#MYTH THE FALLEN LORDS

[retrocgads]

USA 1997

[alertarchitect]

Full disclosure, this is a long one. It's also a vent post. I'm mainly writing this out to help get the thoughts and feelings regarding this kind of organized and out of my head, makes dealing with them just a little easier. Maybe it'll help you put to words your own thoughts & feelings on this kinda shit, too, and if it does, I'm glad my screaming into the void at least helped out someone other than myself! After all, if anything I say, write, or do ends up helping at least one other person, then maybe I'm doing something right :]

Sometimes having long-time special interests in an ongoing franchise FUCKING SUCKS. Perfect example - I am both a big Halo nerd, and really enjoy the overaching lore of Bungie's connected worlds (with how Marathon, Pathways into Darkness, Myth, Destiny, and even the ways Halo originally connected before it had to become its own thing thanks to Microsoft). Here are the ways that currently sucks:

The state of Halo Infinite, the most recent Halo game, both currently and at launch. At launch, you had a buggy mess, with multiplayer that barely functioned, lacking feature parity (even just on the multiplayer side of things, not counting the campaign) with Halo Reach, a game from 2010. Currently, 343i has admittedly fixed a lot of the launch issues - there's more customization than the game has ever had before (still not as good as Reach's customization imo, but at this point I've given up hope on any multiplayer AAA game having that level of customization for free ever again), the desync issues (in my experience) are no longer happening, and it has the most powerful Forge mode in any Halo game to date. The flip side of that, though? Egregiously horrendous monetization, an armor core and coating system that both hurt the customization more than help, and a drip-feed of content with little to no communication from 343 on anything past the most recent update. Not to mention the issues that come from a focus on "Live Service" bullshit.

The issues at 343 Industries itself, which come part and parcel with the massive issues related to Microsoft as a company. Massive megacorporation, horrible management, staff getting screwed over, crunch culture, and more - it just goes on and on.

Halo 5, despite its generally negative reception, is horrendously inaccessible to those of us that want to experience it as a piece of history and/or try out the multiplayer. A perfect example of how little companies care about game preservation, despite the decent track record 343i has had in that respect thanks to the Master Chief Collection, its PC release and addition of Halo Reach, and the efforts to find, occasionally recreate from almost nothing, and implement lost & cut content in the MCC titles.

Being a fan of Bungie's overarching stuff... really bad when you are at PEAK investment into their stuff, namely my Destiny 2 hyperfixation, and they not only announce that their new Marathon game is going to be a fucking EXTRACTION SHOOTER, and thus unlikely to have one of the most interesting things about Marathon in it (that being its lore) while also being very hard to get into thanks to people treating that kind of game as a massive sweat-fest, but also suddenly lay off a bunch of employees (when previously they had a good track record of treating employees decently...) due to Square Enix levels of profit overestimations of Lightfall, the BEST SELLING DESTINY EXPANSION EVER only getting 45% of the expected sales. Because why be realistic, right? Just fuck over employees, that certainly won't hurt us in the end!

The fact that, despite ALL OF THIS and my moral convictions against the shitty nature of this stuff, my dumbass brain still wants me to just spend spend spend on it anyway because of how much of a special interest Halo & the Bungie lore are to me - it almost hurts. I generally prefer fantasy stuff, but I can't stop myself from loving the lore and stories associated with this stuff. I have to fight myself every goddamn time I have money to not fall into the traps. It's easier with Destiny - I uninstalled it, replaced my PvE needs with Warframe and Risk of Rain 2, replaced my PvP needs with Halo Infinite, and just keep up with the story from a distance. But now that Halo Infinite is back in my life? I love the gameplay, hell I'd go as far as to say it has some of the strongest gameplay in the series (though some modes could use a bit more work, for example the Infection mode just isn't as fun as the Infection from Halo Reach), but the monetization just... AAAARGH it hurts me that I want to spend on it, both for customization and to have little goals to work towards in the (thankfully well-implemented due to them being available eternally) battle passes.

I just want to be able to love something that's been so central to me for so long - I played a cracked version of the CE PC demo for countless hours growing up, to the point that to this day I know the mission Silent Cartographer back to front from memory & could do it in my sleep, and associate Blood Gulch with countless memories of Halo's multiplayer from how often I'd play it with my sister, and to add onto all of that Halo Reach is one of my favorite games ever made, period - without caveats and moral hangups. I just want to love something without justifying it every time I think of it, both to myself and others.

I know this is a massively first-world issue, having the luxury to whine about my Favorite Things going through years and years of getting fucked by their own successes driving them into corporatism, but it still sucks. Obviously not as much as other issues both myself and others deal with, and DEFINITELY not as much as the horrible shit people are enduring in several parts of the world, but just enough for me to want/need to vent about how much corporations like to shit on the little rays of sunshine that we use to feel better about life.

[mapas-fantasticos]

Map of the world from the Myth game series.

[fanaticsnail]

Pretty Bird - Part 2

Masterlist here

Word count: 2,065 Part 1

Synopsis: you nursed back to health and injured raven that was found in the canopy of your cottage. The raven was a shifted Avariel fae, a creature of myth and legend, and the new lord of Kuraigana. He is extremely smitten with you, and doesn't know the adequate customs to court you. All he knows and feels is you are his mate, and he wants you.

Themes: fae!Mihawk x human!reader, raven!Mihawk x f!reader (can be read as gn, no gendered terms used).

Notes: prompts based on this ask by 🪶 Anon. Header picture made by me using OPLA's Yoru and doctored stock images. We're leaning in on a bit of hybrid au stuff. Mihawk is a winged, elf-like creature that can shift into a raven and human form - but he is most comfortable being a winged humanoid with dark feathers and talon-like fingernails.

Tag List: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @sinning-23 @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @sordidmusings @nerium-lil

It wasn't quite the grandiose hallways and intricate ornamentation you had experienced once upon long ago. The high keep was, for all other words considered, gloomy. The light was dull, the curtains barely parted, and the lengthy leading carpet had begun to fray at the edges from ill-maintenance and neglect over the years.

The single room in the entire manor that caused your heart to flutter was the one you had reminisced with your pretty bird at your inherited cottage. The gallery was in full bloom, the curtains clipped and dusted with a place for everything, and everything in its place.

A large amassment of individuals were wandering and chattering within the halls, eyeglasses drawn up their faces and assessing the finery with criticism in their snarls. The group which were invited to the grand premier of the reopening were some that you had not seen prior, and many local dignitaries you had dealings with in your cottage.

You assumed you were here as a civilian observer, like some of the others, to give the new lord of Kuraigana a reputation of hospitality and humility. Truth be told, you did not care you were to be used as a ruse. All that seemed to matter was finding that one painting you recounted from the days of your youth.

Spotting a long since forgotten painting of your childhood, you felt the wonderment warm and swell in your chest as soon as you laid eyes on it. Your land, your hometown, a field of wildflowers shrouding your familial home with two figures sitting on a hanging swing off on a hollowed willow tree. The figure on the swing was looking up, just as a winged creature with a humanoid face was smiling down.

This was the picture you imagined when you spoke with the wounded raven in your cottage. There was something in the way the two subjects looked at each other, their hearts swelling in their eyes, as joy was depicted on their lips. Two creatures from different worlds just as captivated with the other as the other was with them.

As you leaned in closer to the image, you felt a presence behind you with their dark shadow cascading your form with their silhouette.

“Do you enjoy this one, then?” their vocal cadence was difficult to read, but their presence felt intimidating. You turned to face the figure, and curtseyed low to them with your eyes fallen to the ground.

“This painting holds meaning for me, yes, sir,” you rise from your curtsey, keeping your gaze held firmly to their dark, leather boots as you rose back to full stature. They stepped forward in a single stride, puncturing your border of personal comfort and towering over you.

“Can you explain it to me, so as to grant me a greater understanding of such a piece?” their voice purred down at you. The scent of their cologne felt familiar to you, as did the subtle pattern in their flowing cloak over their shoulders.

Softly floating your gaze to their features, you hovered over their unique, angular facial hair and bit back your nerves.

“The prior lord of this house was known for his admiration and appreciation for the fae-folk,” you spoke, attempting to maintain your calm demeanor while feeling intimidated by the man towering over you, “Many seem to enjoy the fables and tales of old. Hearing the joy of a world far from our own, whether written on written paper or depicted on canvas, is an accessible binding that draws people of all creed and color together.”

You float your eyes up to meet his, the amber hue of his gaze piercing you like a blade and seeming to goad you into speaking more on the subject.

“And the fae?” his challenging tone almost made you recoil, but you held your ground and attempted to avoid his gaze as he spoke down his nose at you, “Do they not frighten you?”

“Truth be told, sir,” you quickly bobbed a polite curtsey as you continued, “I feel I do not have enough experience on the matter to fear them.” You turn back to the painting, focussing on the gaze of the young Avariel beaming down at their human counterpart on the swing, “I appreciate them from afar, but I am yet to truly meet one.” The man hums in deep thought, slowly turning their own attention back to the painting while sitting in silence beside you.

After several moments of studying the painting, you turn to your guest and curtsey once more to the individual with a shy smile tugging at your lips.

“I fear it's getting rather late for me, sir. I best be getting home and tending to my homestead,” you nod to the sun beginning to fall behind the swirling landscape of curling mountains, “It is a lengthy trek home.”

“You arrived here on foot?” his voice seemed to be taken aback, “Do you not have horses, or some mule to pull a carriage? A cart with two goats, a saddle for a swine-?” You broke his train of thought with a soft, melodical giggle. He halted his words, listening to your laugh and slowly offering his own alongside it.

“Forgive me, sir,” you stifle your soft laugh, slowly biting back any further humor in your tone, “Some of us more common people can not afford the luxury to own such things. This is the furthest I've ventured of late, and I do wish to make it back before nightfall.”

Before you had the opportunity to flee from his sights, he swooped down and claimed your arm in the crook of his left elbow and held you there while slowly whispering down at you.

“You will allow me to escort you from the gallery and towards the door,” he was firm in his tone, but his poised elegance seemed to put you at ease. As he began to take a step to walk with you, he froze in place as you spoke to him.

“I feel like there should be a ‘please’ in there somewhere,” you offer him a nervous giggle and gently nod your head to him, “I don't think you have a right to lord over me like some cruel tyrant, sir…?” you trailed off, attempting to meet his gaze.

He looked at you from the corner of his eye, a look that seemed somewhat familiar to you, but foreign atop his features. His amber eyes seemed to hold a challenge within them as the corner of his lip ticked up.

“Lord Dracule Mihawk,” he offered you freely, raising his right hand to circle over your knuckles clasping his left elbow, “And, would you please allow me to escort you from the gallery towards the door?”

Something between a squeak and a gasp caught itself within your throat as you failed to find the words to respond to him with. The man at your side was the mysterious host you were curious about, and you had been conversing with him so openly you didn't spare a thought as to whom he was.

As he lead you silently through the quiet halls towards the door, he gently coaxed you through the threshold and gracefully spun you to face him within the archway. He stooped down towards you, and gently reached up to preen at a fallen strand of your hair to tuck it behind your ear.

“Should you need to borrow a horse, I would gladly provide you with one from my stables,” he uttered, gently caressing the crown of your head and scanning over your features without meeting your eyes. “I have a few to choose from, alongside a personal carriage or cart should you ever need one.” He finally met your eyes, looking down at you as your gaze was intense with eyes wide and in shock.

The lord of Kuraigana was shuffling your hair with such familiarity, it immediately drew up and rose every alarm in your mind. Why was he doing this? What motivation would he have to press his hands into you, and toy with you in such a way? You were a commoner amongst a den of lords and ladies, why you?

“I have no formal training in cart rearing, my lord,” you nodded your head to bob your hair from his clutches, “Nor do I desire to have you part with a horse on my behalf.” Stepping away, his hand hovers where contact was priorly met against your skin and hair. “Thank you for your hospitality, this is where I take my leave from you, my lord.”

Bowing in a low curtsey, you chose to walk from him without waiting a further dismissal from him due to the fluster his intimidating aura rose to you. As soon as you were out of sight, you breathed out a sigh of relief and gazed up into the first light of purple stars greeting the pastel purples and pinks over Kuraigana.

“I am such a fool.”

Both yours and Mihawk’s lips shared the same sentiment, feeling truly imbicilic in the interaction you had with one another not moments ago. For you, your embarrassment came from speaking so freely about childhood fantasies to the man who lords over you. For Mihawk, it was another aspect entirely.

“My mate hates me,” he whispered to the walls of his keep, “My mate fears me and recoils from my touch.” He gazed down at his hands, witnessing the first release of talons protruding from his fingertips in response to holding a human-passing form for so long.

As soon as he left your cottage once he was healed, he was attempting to find a way to welcome you into his home. While he understood that humans have kindness for one another in times of need, and compassion for injured animals, at the first offence of aid from you in his raven form, he knew it was you. You were his, and he was yours.

He needed you, craved you to know how desperately he wanted you in his high keep. The understanding on the intricacies of human clourtships was sadly lacking in his regard, but he knew he needed to try to win you over.

If you were an avarial, a changeling, or a shifter of the fae folk like he was, he knew he could express his desires and make his wanting known by preening and grooming you. He would nest for you, fill it with your scent matched with his, and welcome you into it while nestled against one another. Should he wish to make the match permanent, which he considered the notion the moment you began to converse with him as a man, he would dance for you to showcase his skills as a reveered fighter and exceptional provider.

Witnessing the fluster on your face at the moment he attempted to groom you left him feeling deflated and dejected. The rejection of his mate, the one he sorely wanted for himself, had him frustrated and desiring to know if you truly were rejecting him, or if this was an action lost in the courtship discorse of fae folk and humans.

He would never be able to get close to you as the lord of Kuraigana, your lord and ruler over your land. He would absolutely not desire for you to see him in his radiant glory, as half-shifted into his more comfortable form as a winged humanoid. He was assured you would turn from him in fear.

But as a raven? You liked him as a raven. You praised him as a raven. You scratched his chin, offered him meat, and spoke to him as a raven. He could listen to you as a raven. As your raven: your pretty bird.

Giving his shoulders a gentle shimmy, his cloak sprung to life and revealed his darkened wings as his form began to shrink into his smaller avarian form. The golden hue of his watchful eyes remained as intense as they searched for you on the pathway leading to your cottage.

He needed to know. Were you interested in such a courtship with a beast like him, or were you simply one of the kinder varieties of mortals? He shook his wings to take flight, his intense gaze was fixed on your form as the soft sunset became a gentle dusk and faded into a blue, cloudless night.

[circeius-invidioso]

I do not get why the Red Corsairs are not a popular choice.

Like.

Like here is the elevator pitch for the warband and then we can come to some justified conclusion.

What isn't there to love?

You want me to turn into an infomencial and make a top 3 reasons why the Red Corsairs are great?

Cause I can.

And I will.

The Diverse Working Enviroment

Here in the Red Corsairs we might have started as Ultramarines but the barrier for entry is on the floor. So anyone can join.

You are Night Lord with a bad rep and no ship.

Buckle up we got you covered.

You are a Fallen and have 20 Dark Angels all up in yo business? Trying to shoot down the boss babe you are?

Fear not, or in our case. Know no Fear. We are strapped and don't get clapped.

You are a traitor that likes their Legion but sadly you got in our way?

Tough luck buddy, you will join or die and your geene seed will join our cause. Nothing personal battle brother. Just business as usual.

Everyone is welcome as long as they follow Huron's guidelines and don't aggitate the topless sweaty Khorne worshipping Ultramarines in the basement.

Sustainability

Unlike the corrupt Imperium of man and the corpse Emperor our leader is powered by miracles (which is trully a miracle how he survived but that on the next section), and we use 0 psyckers to power our crap.

Our carbon footprint is also minimum as we use salvaged goods and don't indulge in toxic industries that destroy worlds.

The Red Corsair base of operation is in the Eye of Terror and from there we expand our scope. A place greatly known for its constant shifts, and horrible conditions but the tan our serfs have are spectacullar from all that cosmic radiation.

Finally we are commited to recycling. As in we take from our victims benefactors and put those stolen goods to some great use. Nothing goes to waste, neither mortal, nor static object. If something is not nailed on the floor we will take it.

In fact we might take the floor too and the nails used to set it in place.

Nothing goes to waste!

Unmatched Leadership

Last, but certainly not least.

The man.

The myth.

The Legend.

Huron Blackheart.

Aka Lufgt Huron.

Aka what would happen if we gave a compressed Guilliman a daemonic familiar and left him to ferment in a warp storm.

Not only the name is so edgy you might cut yourself by saying it out loud. But also it's complex enough that if you say it quickly three times without twisting your tongue theres is a chance furniture might start levitating.

The man has put his Ultramarine brain to use and amased enough influence and power to put the Black Legion to shame.

Huron went from 0 to 100 in no time, he is a self made Warmaster. With no daddy issues or troubles in the world, he goes into battle blasting Alestorm in the voxxcasters.

He does not care.

He probably wears this when he wants to relax.

You think he cares?

He does not care.

He has a biker gang specifically organized to hunt down those who have betrayed him.

They slap those things on their armors not for the usual biker reason

(which fun fact the meaning is, 99% of the bikers are law-abiding, where the 1% are not. That's where the 1% comes from. The more you know 🌈)

no they wear that 1% because that's how high are your chances of escaping from them are.

Is that a bit extreme?

Yes.

You think he cares?

He does not care.

The dude once gathered his buddies and decided...

to you know. Have a casual outing. Nothing too serious, it was a sunday afteral.

So they decided on.

Kidnapping Guilliman.

Which they almost did if not for a Fallen of all people getting in the way.

But still.

The mad lad took Macragge's Honour and went on a joyride/ mini civil war.

Who in the galaxy can turn and say.

Yeah, I stole Macragge's Honour, almost captured my old Primarch. Told a daemon prince they are irrelevant on my way there. Anyway after crushing a fool who thought he could take my crown as king of the space pirates, I went to the home planet of the White Scars and kidnapped and tortured their Chapter Master. What did you do this week? 💅

Who wouldn't want to be a part of that?

You tell me I can be an immortal, gorgeous chaos Ultramarine goth boy going on pirate adventures across the galaxy?

Where do I sign up?

I don't need ink for a signature.

I will use my own blood.

[scoutsbabygirl]

I would like to see headcanons from you about how your favorite mercenaries realize that they fall in love with the reader :333

🎷🐛

my first request! hi my little meow meow! i wrote for all the mercs bc why not?! fluff below the cut! also written in headcannon form! idk how to write for soldier (i just don't see the appeal)

scout:

-why did ms. pauling have to be lesbian???

-when you came along he was immediately drawn to you, maybe it was because you were new and young

-he's way too cocky around you and acts like he doesn't care about you

-after a stern talking to by spy, jeremy decides to ask you out

-other than sports, jeremy loves to paint and draw and is surprisingly good at it. he asks you to make some art with him and of course he draws you

-this melts your heart and you've fallen for him. he's just waiting for the right time to confess and ask you to be his

soldier:

-man has zhanna

pyro:

-hearing you say "you're all good! no worries!" after he lights the hem of you shirt, almost burning you alive. he feels a spark...literally

-pyro slinks around you where ever you may be. in the kitchen baking? pyros throwing flour all over the kitchen. working out? pyros cheering you on. got some spare time? pyros got some crayons, colored pencils and a bunch of coloring books

-spending time with a masked man that the team fears has him drawn to you. the mercs warned you about him, you never felt intimated by pyro yet understood yet you could understand why he was treated differently

-if you're ever sad he will give you the best comfort. he's never shown himself to the mercs but once he sees you cry the mask is coming off and expect kisses to be planted over you

-its a very intimate moment and he just admits it then. he's never had anyone love him back, he's always been depicted as a monster.

heavy:

- won't approach you first. he waits for you to make a move. he knows his size is intimidating in itself and doesn't want to scare you away.

-he's a gentle giant. he's very careful with his words and movements. he's so paranoid that you'll view him as something he's not on the inside.

- one night you cooked with him and he told you all about his life back home, showed you photos of his sisters and taught you basic russian (assuming you don't know any already)

-if you speak russian he'll be over the moon or if you use the simple russian he's taught you he loves you just a little bit more. he adores your accent when you stumble over certain pronunciation. he knows you're the one for him

-when he decides to confess he handwrites you a long poem with an russian to english translation on two separate pages. after he signs his name he writes that he won't bring this up unless you do

-please don't break his heart. he's so sensitive

demo:

- when he confesses he's drunk as fuck. he doesn't even remember when you bring it up the next day.

-is so embarrassed. he's hungover and groggy. he plays it off by acting defensive. "i was just drunk! i meant nothing by it!"

-in the inside he's freaking out. he wanted to plan it out. it's only been 7 or 8 months since you've been at teufort but he fell so quick for you.

-3am outside pointing at the constellations, telling you about old celtic, scottish myths and folklore, shit talking the other mercs, and an accidental kiss on the lips he caught feeling for you right then and there.

- he's willing to give up scrumpy just to have you reciprocate the same feelings for him. 🤞

engineer:

-lord, he used so many pet names with you; "check this out, sweet pea", "you look beautiful, darling", "i made pancakes, you want any hon?"

-he knows his voice with a combination of his pet names do something to you. he loves when you call him those names back!

-compliment his cooking! bbq is his specialty! he'll gladly eat up anything you make. hungry boi :3

-he loves when you spend time with him in his workshop, working on his little metal trinkets warms his soul. he tries to teach you about the intricate parts of engineering. it's okay if you don't understand, he's more than willing to break it down for you and teach you a bite-sized version quantum mechanics

-friday night. a few beers in. a lot of work finished. "(y/n), i know i'm a bit older and dusty at the whole romance thing but" he pauses "you ain't seeing anyone right now, are you?"

medic:

-he either falls in love with you the second he lays his eyes on you or it takes many, many months for him to catch feelings for you. regardless, of how long the process takes his love for you becomes an obsession.

-you begin lingering around his office, inquiring about his tools and weapons. he finds it very interesting that you're not startled by him and his... unethical ways of "doctor assisted suicide"

-internal battles with his conscience. does he want to rip your organs out and shove them in the wrong places? he wants to slice your arteries one by one. yes, he wants to cut your jugular and see how much you bleed before dying. alas, he won't. you're too beautiful to be cut up into pieces. he doesn't want you to die by his hands, he doesn't know what he would do with himself.

-"guten morgen, wie gehts?!" has him weak. just a simple phrase you've rehearsed a few times. you though he would appreciate you taking time out of your day to learn his native tongue. he thinks this is your way of flirting with it (and perhaps it is).

-occasionally he'll call you into his office, not for a checkup by any means but rather just to chat (on company time). he removes the gloves and runs his hands over the scars on your face and neck. "schätzelein, i have been feeling some way for a while."

sniper:

-he is such a cunt. he's so rude and bitchy to you. his attitude causes you to avoid contact with mick at all costs and he avoids you like the plague. he spends a lot of time in his van anyways so staying away from you isn't too hard.

-seeing you hurt breaks his heart. he decides to visit you in medbay after your broke your arm. the baboo uterus experiment procedure wasn't finished by the time you got hurt. you notice how out of character it is but appreciate it regardless. he brings you a little necklace made with animal teeth (him making jewerly with animal bones is the most canon-noncanon headcanon.)

-after you get a cast you ask him to sign it. next to his name he writes a little heart. then scribbles it out. and draws a skull underneath it.

-butterflies in his stomach when he lays eyes on you. he hates that he's gotten feelings for you. you're his teammate, not his partner. not yet atleast. no? why is he thinking like this.

-it's obvious that mick is touch starved of attention, he want to be validated and appreciated. he's also getting shit from his teammates so when you begin to stand up for him and complimenting him he looses his mind.

"scout, you're being mean. no wonder you have no dad, i would leave too. " "he's not ugly at all. you're old and its evident enough in those wrinkles of yours."

-oh god. who knew a petite little thing like you could spit venom. he wants to tell you how he feels so badly but he doesn't want to loose you as a friend.

spy:

-he'll flirt with you before even developing feelings for you. always trying to court you, inviting you over at late hours. he just wants to get laid tbh.

-you're playing hard to get. it excites him a bit but he's much older now so if anything he's annoyed that you won't sleep with him. he tries being more romantic and pushes idea the idea of getting with you sexually and takes a different approach.

-smoking on his red velvet couch until the sun begins to rise, sharing cigs together. he has a small stash of weed (he stole it from scout) but coughs when he smokes it, earning a plethora of giggles from you. now he's smiling and laughing with you despite his lungs being filled with smoke.

-stacks of guy de maupassant on his table near the red couch, he reads the love poems to you and translates it to you. please snuggle up into his chest and try to read the french words yourself. your pronunciation is horrible and your accent is awful. you sound so cute yet so pathetic at the same time.

-he tries to keep his feelings hidden for as long as he can. of course, it slips out. he's stopped wearing the balaclava when around you (and only you, even his own son doesn't know what he truly looks like) so the bright red blush is evident on his face. he tries taking back what he said but there's no use as your already face first into his chest.

[furicookiebndz]

Lucifer x !FemReader : My old friend

Hello everyone, it is my first time writing this, i hope it will be good enough, have fun! This fan art isn't mine. Full credits to the amazingly talented artist/creator.

It has been thousands of years since evil began.

Lucifer, whose pride blinded him, attempted to dethrone the creator, only to ultimately fail and be banished from Paradise.

Lilith, who refused to submit to Adam, in turn fled from this magical place, but which hides many facades.

Yet few people know that with them, a third person flew out of Paradise. And even rarer are people who know the cause, 3 to be precise.

However, behind this unusual act lie very dark secrets, seen as…

-Can you stop, Vag'? You're giving me a headache.

The young woman turned her head towards the source of this execrable voice, a spider who was visibly lying carefree on the sofa, arms behind her head, a bored expression on her face.

Refraining from answering him, she continued:

Tragic, some thought it was another rebellious woman, others a fallen angel because of a serious crime, but that wasn't logical, what's worse than to confront the creator?"

-That doesn't help all of us, the young woman noted, running her hand through her hair, frustrated.

-It would be beneficial to have her on our side, especially if she has such a significant influence on the world of the living and beyond, Charlie concluded thoughtfully.

-But she hid from the world, living as a hermit. Many think it's a myth, but given what's been happening lately, I believe it's much more present than sinners think.

Vaggie rubbed her temples, trying to come up with an idea.

-Who the hell are you talking about? I hate it when you pretend to be Sherlock and leave me like the old cookie in the back of the cupboard.

-Are you interested in what we do? retorted Vaggie sarcastically

-No, more about why you were busting my balls, joked Angel.

-You don't even have one, asshole, mumbled quietly Husk, taking a sip of his cheap booze.

-Want to check~? It is free for you kitty cat.

-Not even for a thousand balls, growled quietly Husk, who was beginning to lose his patient.

-Ouuh finally a price there is progress, Daddy, the spider sent him a kiss

Alastor, who was reading a book by the fireplace, decided to speak

-Charlie, Darling, you seem concerned about this person Let me see…

He seemed surprised for a moment, before smiling more, if possible.

-My my, what a terrible coincidence. The person you are looking for is one of the most sought after. Didn't Lucifer tell you about Lady (Y/N)?

-Um… We're not exactly talking about all that-

“Daddy issues,” Husk muttered.

Alastor continued:

-As reported in this document, she flew away shortly after your parents. She was a person living in Heaven, she was not human, but not an angel entirely though, she had two pairs of wings, although she is the appearance of a mortal, yet she had her own power, not to be underestimated. She embodied humor, justice and determination. In short, all these things that are way too boring-

-Cut it short, Alastor, Vaggie said, snapping her fingers.

-But when Lucifer challenged God, she did not follow him, not because she had to beat him, but because he knew just as well as she did that what he was doing was wrong. For the first time in her life she felt an immense disappointment in the love he had once inspired in her, and the semblance of a relationship that was perhaps tending to end disappeared with the appearance of the first demon, your father, Charlie.

However, you are aware that shortly after the creation of Lilith, she quickly became friends with your mother, and when she flew away from Paradise, and she learned the cause, she entered in a black anger, so black that Gabriel had difficulty in containing it, Until then, she had always been obedient, never contesting the decisions, which were of infallible Justice, but this departure had torn away part of her herself. She confronted the lord, she tried to rally the others to her cause, but nothing changed. Disappointed, she left that place, and no one ever saw her again.

There was a heavy silence for a moment, before Angel said:

-So…Is she still a virgin?

Vaggie rolled her eyes before Charlie had an idea:

I'm sure she's not that far away. Maybe I should ask my father to contact her again. She must care about him, at least I hope so, and if I convince her, Gabriel won't be able to object!

Vaggie refrained from adding a comment, she knew it was too good to be able to do it, but in front of her girlfriend's adorable face, she couldn't refuse anything.

______________________________________________________________

-No, Lucifer said firmly, before Charlie could even finish his idea.

-But dad-

-End of discussion, I don't want to hear anything, he turned around and mechanically squeezed the rubber duck in his hand, like an anti-stress ball.

Lucifer seemed elsewhere, deep in thought. His friend, his old friend…

.

.

.

“Luciferrrrr!” A burst of joy appeared as she walked towards him, a smile on her lips, a book in her hands.

Lucifer as usual had a lyre in his hands. He looked up at Y/N and smiled.

One discussion led to another, he shared his ideas about the mortal world, while she agreed with some and shared her opinion on others. They would sometimes just stay silent, or she would read aloud from a book, and he would then accompany her with his lyre.

Such a beautiful memory…

.

.

.

Why Lucifer?! Why did you do this?

This same friend was there with her eyes filled with tears, disappointed in him.

Lucifer looked down. One mistake, just one mistake, had caused him to lose those he considered family, and his closest friend.

He wanted to tell her that it was just a misunderstanding, that it was for the best, but the damage was already done.

He took Lilith's hand and without a word, left for their new home.

The young woman, in tears, could only watch them leave, the man she loved and her friend, without being able to do anything, because her principles prevented her. Gabriel placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, and said nothing. If she knew, he couldn't imagine how she would have reacted

.

.

.

-Dad?

Lucifer seemed to come out of his thoughts and focused on a family portrait. Lilith was already gone, after their separation he only had his daughter left, and after a second of thought he sighed and said:

-I'll see what I can do…

-It's true? Oh thank you Dad, thank you thank you thank you!, cried Charlie enthusiastically.

She took him in her arms, and Lucifer said to himself that finally, if having a hug from his daughter meant having to seek the 7 rings of Hell and even the beyond, he would do it without complaining.

Now all that remained was to find it, the most complicated part…

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

Lucifer, Charlie and the hotel members thought for several days, using all their knowledge and powers to find her. If she was neither in Hell, nor in Heaven, or even in the mortal world, she must be between the latter options-

Lucifer suddenly had an idea, remembering a conversation they had shared long ago, and he cast an incantation, which opened a portal to a world- no, a unique place, so messy and blurry, and yet so… familiar, as if he were…

“In the middle of a dream,” Charlie whispered softly. The rest of the team followed her, looking around curiously. Lucifer asked himself so many questions, was it a place where souls rested between life and death? He did not know it. After all, the soul left the body for a while when it slept, that would explain the place.

-Who are you? I sense human souls, but something else…

They saw several women advancing, of great beauty, similar to fairies, but armed, ready to defend themselves, if it was not for another who stopped them by raising her hand, she advanced slowly, and Lucifer recognized her completely. right now.

-(Y/N)..Lucifer seemed upset to see her, and tried to pull himself together by talking to himself. "Ok, Ok. It's going to be okay buddy, you can do it, you can do it", When he met her gaze, he lost all his courage and hid behind Charlie.

-Dad!

-What? I-I'm just covering your back Charlie.

-At least what I thought of you is true, you're just a sissy Lucifer, Alastor sneered.

You looked at him for a moment, the man you had loved for thousands of years, it was..strange. You didn't know whether you should greet him or hit him.

-Lucifer, what is the honor of this visit worth to me? In 10,000 years you have never had the decency to come visit me.

Sarcasm. Something unusual about you, he couldn't help but admire you. Your two pairs of wings were now grey, but your eyes were still this soft (e/c) shade, but now full of resentment, and perhaps.. mockery?

-And you, you must be his daughter, mhh?

You moved closer to her and observed her suspiciously, while she was sweating profusely, and Vaggie seemed on the edge on attacking you, and to her surprise, you smiled widely and took her in your arms, with surprising strength.

-My lord you are his carbon copy, so pretty~, you squish her cheek cheeks and gush about her, while she laughs awkwardly.

Everyone was stunned by how fast the tension dissipates, and the women behind you giggle, seemingly aware by how fast your emotions tend to change. Lucifer smiles, maybe he still had a chance..

-But you seem so polite, unlike some, you cast a dark look at Lucifer, and greeted the others with a sympathetic and curious look, their offering to sit down for a while to talk.

...maybe not finally.

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

-If I understood everything, you created a hotel to rehabilitate sinners… and are trying to convince Heaven, is that right?

She nodded and Lucifer tried to add something, but you stopped him:

-I don't speak with traitors and liars, especially if they forget to send me a life message for eons.

Lucifer doesn't say anything wanting to make anything worse. He knew he was wrong, and sighed heavily.

(Y/N)-1 Lucifer-0.

-Damn, this girl is awesome, Angel whispered excitedly.

Vaggie continued:

-Lady (Y/N), you still have decent relationship with heaven.Could you try talking to some highers-up about it? Like Gabrie-

-No, this thing is no longer part of my circle of close friends, I can still try to talk about it again with Sera and Emily, but I can't do anything with the other weirdo.

Charlie felt hopeless, and she took your hands and looked at you with a miserable expression.

-I beg you, you must speak to him, my people are dying every year at the hands of the exorcists, and I-I cannot stand by and do nothing. Can you try..?

At his beaten puppy look, you widened your eyes, it was exactly-

Please don't tell them where I was, Lucifer pleaded with adorable eyes. You sighed but smiled, nodding your head.

-Well, i will. But I'm not promising anything though-

-Thank you thank you thank you, she hugged you, and you hugged her back with a smile.

Lucifer felt his heart beat faster, these two women who are precious to him have finally met, and got along better than he expected.

Now all he had to do was sort out one last problem.

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

Explanations were made. You listened patiently, and after a while you answered:

-Why Lucifer, didn't you tell me before? I-I thought I was your friend.

Lucifer held her gaze, and for the first time in millennia he took his courage in both hands and took hers:

-I didn't want to see your disappointed look, I know I made a mistake, but I only thought about doing the right thing. And I-

-You got scared?

He nodded, and you sighed:

-I don't blame you, at least not anymore.

He raised his eyes, feeling a bit of hope, and feeling Charlie's encouraging look, he continued:

-So, can we try again? I mean our relationship- Well our friendship!

He blushed slightly and you chuckled softly:

-Yes, always Lucifer.

[whereserpentswalk]

Select an alternate universe to study abroad in for a semester. You'll be sent there with a new body that matches inhabitants of that realm. Little to no time will pass in your world, as time between dimension is entirely diffeent. Wherever you choose to go you won't be known to be from another dimension unless you tell people.

1- an endless forest made of massive trees, so tall no mortal soul has seen the ground or the unobstructed sky. The sentient races of this world consist of slender owl like humanoids, various insectoid races, short squat mushroom people, and a minority of rodent like creatures who live further down the trees. Technology in this world is as advanced as ours, but the aesthetics are more similar to our Victorian age. They say this world's heaven is deep above the trees, and this world's hell is deep below it, with each culture's religion having its own version of God/gods above an devils in the forest floor (outside of the mushroom people, who worship gods below.)

2- an endless system of volcanic caves and tunnels that demons and fallen angels come from. This realm is vast, and is ruled over by countless lords and kings, some truly evil, some merely strange. Demons and fallen angels come is countless forms, most looking somewhat humanoid, though with strange and unnatural distortions, from animal like parts to things humans would find much more horrifying. This is one of the few realms listed where they know what earth is, but they don't know much about it outside of myth.

3- an alternate earth where mythical creatures such as vampires, werewolves, deep ones, dragons, and witches exist. It also has a population of demons and faeries who came over generations ago. While they were in hiding for many millennium, they've now taken over most of earth, with humans being removed or conquered in some regions, and peacefully integrated into others. Though in both cases they are now a minority.

4- a version of earth that's both flat and entirely endless, with many sun's carving safe warm zones in the ice. Even with 21st century technology new lands are still being explored. Most social problems still exist, but things are looking a bit more hopeful, and the world's slightly nicer to live in. Cryptids, gods, magic and the afterlife are all proven to exist, even if humanity doesn't know much about them. Human bodies here naturally trend twords looking however the person inside them wants to look, and sexual attraction and pleasure don't exist.

5- an alternate earth where the kpg mass extinction never occurred. Dinosaurs remained dominant but kept evolving, leading to a sapient race eventually emerging from raptors. The raptors are currently at a similar technology level as us, though due to how they're mind works they've spent more time developing computers and mathematics than they have any other field of technology. Also don't mind the obelisk in the pacific ocean, nobody there knows what it does or who put it there either, and we won't put you anywhere near it.

6- a world filled with giant monsters of all kinds, some looking like massive dragons or Chimeras, others looking like more strange and colorful creatures. Though some animals are smaller, the smallest intelligent creatures are the size of bears, and the largest are much bigger than blue whales. Technology is limited in some regards, mostly as the inhabitants don't always need it.

7- the world of the faeries, strange and complex, and both terrifying and beautiful. Very little is known about this realm other than the strange and often dangerous creatures who come from this place. If you go here it's likely you will remember very little and enjoy very much.

8- a universe where humanity is completely isolated to spaceships and space stations, most of them the size of cities. Humans here are grown artificially, and have completely androgynous bodies that lack biological sex, and most of them combine their bodies with mechanical upgrades becoming cyborgs. Most humans never touch a planet, and those who do don't stay there for long. There are a few alien species with planetary civilizations, but almost all of them are strange and eldrich. Technology is incredibly advanced compared to ours, and quality is life is better. Most humans consider AI taboo, though normal computers are fine and commonplace.

9- a world where humans are entirely missing, but every species of mammal is sapient and humanoid. Birds and reptiles pick up the pace of animals in the ecosystem, as the mammals have created a global civilization. Though magic doesn't exist here, and technology is around a 21st century level, the quirks of each species have created a lot of situations impossible in our world. Though several nations exist, the main powers of the world consist of a group of powerful corporations, an ancient secret society, and the church of the dead gods, all of whom are locked in a cold war, that luckily keeps the nations of this world at peace.

10- a massive city, floating in the void, surrounded by eldritch horrors. Countless humanoids have made their homes in the city, most hailing from diffrent dimensions themselves, but permanently stuck here. Though many races here could pass for humans, none of them truly are, from the sirenia who have wings for arms and hands for feet, to the modutal who can take parts of their bodies off and swap them with other members of their race, to the subterranean vamire who eat raw meat and have albino skin, to the hyven whose minds are each split between two to five bodies. It's estimated between fifty to a hundred humanoids call the city home.

11- the abyss. Do not attempt to enter the abyss. We cannot assure your safety.

[sweet-honey-tears]

The Eyes That Stared

GreekGod!Shoji x Fem!Reader

Thank you so much for this request and I’m so sorry how long this took. I hope this is okay and I hope you enjoy. This is loosely based off the myth eros and psyche.

Warning: Slight Self-deprecation, bullying(?)

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

It was strange, extraordinary. Such a large house, mansion, house? Shoji, or Lord Shoji-no he didn't like that. Shoji referred to it as a home, but it was more of a mansion to you. A little nobody from the village, your house was a one-room shared with your family. You were of marriage age, yet marriage seemed out of the cards for you. Not by your hand, of course; you'd love to settle down in your own home, with your husband in hand, and far from the village. "Too beautiful, too handsome, to everything." That's what the first man said, and the one after that, and that. You were just too beautiful for their eyes, so beautiful that they avoided and spoke ill of you.

"I heard she kissed a frog for the looks."

"she has the intelligence of the ground she steps on,"

"she's likely only useful to warm a bed."

The woman hated you, and the young men did too, for you took all the looks from the oh-so-handsome bachelors of your village. Ah yes, the black teeth, shit-smelling men of your village, the cream of the crop. Your eyes rolled as you rested against the plush white couch, body slumping and stretching to fill the lounge chair.

Your mind wandered more; the house's silence sometimes made it a challenge to relax. Without Shoji, the rooms felt bare and cold, and yet you'd never even seen Shoji. Yes, he was a god, but one that hid his appearance from you. "I don't wish to scare you," he said, and you simply nodded, pale-faced and scared at your first encounter.

The oracle had stated he was a hideous monster in "the eyes that stared". Yet such a monster was destined to be wed to a beautiful bride from your village. It gave you little humor that the village so willingly offered you as a way to appease the god to get his favor. Appease may not even be the right word. In no story, no matter how much you searched your mind, was Shoji ever angry. Few and far gods were like that. It seemed every god had a massacre behind them; a small village turned a bloody smear due to insolence. Right or wrong actions, most god's hands were stained with blood, except for Shoji. Not even the servants of the home seem to be scared of the man. They showed respect, of course, but the house had a quiet yet peaceful atmosphere. Never filled with dread or fear, as you experienced when Bakugo came by to speak to Shoji. The tension in the room and the fear was palpable and seemed to linger long after he departed. Maybe that was why the village jumped at the opportunity to get on Shoji's good side; most other gods were terrifying, their hands dripping with the blood of villages that offended them, that didn't meet their demands. But Shoji, his so-called 'demand,' your village was willing to give. But give up a singular person, one who seemed to cause unrest among suiters, well, that was easy to give.

And so, you were taken to the cliffs and left there. You fought very little, if at all. The loneliness of your childhood and young adulthood left you with no life to yearn for. There was, however, a pit in your stomach, bubbling and gripping your lungs. "What if it's worse? What if life is hell?" You silently prayed to the gods, "please, let this not be worse."

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

You must have fallen asleep, for candles and lanterns were lit. The beautiful glowing bodies hung from the ceiling like stars, illuminating the room with their soft glow. It made your chest warm and tingle; Shoji added these for you once realizing the house's darkness was dreary and cold. He would be home by now; the thought made your chest flutter. Excitement, joy, you couldn't care to figure it out. It didn't matter; he was home, back from the prayers, and possibly your village. Your mind wandered back to the dusty place as you pushed up from the chair you'd been lying on. The soft white silks of your dress trailed behind you as you quietly walked.

Did Shoji bless them like they'd hoped? Had your 'sacrifice' satisfied their need for a god's attention. You laughed slightly; the image of your grasping village, pulling on the capes of whatever god they could reach for attention, was pitiful. Maybe a part of you was still stuck there, still bitter at how you were treated. Yet here you were, married to a god, in a paradise only a child could dream of. But you could hear their voices:

"You don't even know what your husband looks like."

"You married a monster, a monster. Ha! And you thought you were so much better than us."

You brushed off the thoughts. You were happy, so happy. You didn't know what your husband looked like; the world said he was a monster, and so be it. He was kind and gentle, he listened, he didn't hurt you. You smiled proudly at yourself; your prayers were answered, regardless of the dark age lingered.

You silently pushed open the door to the room. According to the many servants, Shoji typically stayed in this room after work. Their nervous glances at each other as you happily thanked them went unnoticed by your excitement. You poked your head into the room with a bright smile on your face. "Sho-," the words crumbled in your mouth. He stood there, body stiffening, in front of a large mirror. His extra arms stretched out, the gold bracelets and jewelry shining brightly. His face, even when tense, made your breath hitch. Your fingers twitched at the sight of the scars on his chin, yearning to rub them with your fingers as if to soothe the pain. Your heart ached at the thought that someone could do something to such a kind and gentle giant. You had seemed to catch him amid something; he looked startled by what the mirror's reflection showed. You crept more into the room, your body moving with impulse, standing a few feet from the door as you both stared. You watched his mouth creek open, sharp white teeth staring at you, and fear trickled up your spine. Was he angry? The thought was sobering, terrifying.

He spoke first, shattering the thin tension. "I'm sorry." His voice was small, cracked, and nervous.

"W-what?" Your voice shook, mouth dry. He crumbled in on himself, his extra arms wrapping around his body like a blanket, like a hug. Was he…?

"I know Im… Im not what you deserve. "He turned away from you, his eyes staring at the wall behind him. "I'm hideous, I know. I will keep the illusions on, I promise. You will not have to endure this…" You watch his body tense again. His voice dripping in disgust, "Thing"

"No!" Your words came out sharp and startled you. But your heart pounded and seized at the idea of not being able to see his face again. "Please don't," Your feet were quiet as you shuffled towards him. Your hand out and voice soft as if approaching a wounded animal. Your fingers brushed one of his arms, and you watched as he flinched. You struggled for words, trying to grasp the correct string to make him believe you. "I want to see you; I want to see the face of the man I love." Your voice was soft, and your fingers spread over his large shoulder blades. Feeling as the muscle slightly loosened at your words.

A small, saddening laugh slipped from his lips. His body straightened slightly, and he stood at full height, towering over you. You took a small step back, enough to give him room to stand fully and face you.

Your eyes scanned him, once again awestruck.

"You do not need to lie to me-"

"I'm not," your voice was sharp. Your hands reached up carefully, hoping to hold his face. Shoji's back hunched slightly, lowering himself just enough for your fingers to reach him. His eyes fluttered closed as your thumb ran over the long scars on his chin, fingers rising over the bumps and dips from the deep cuts. "You're so handsome, Shoji." Your words were like whispers as you stared at him. You are no monster; you are beautiful."

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

[an-idyllic-novelist]

Hello! Saw your request was opened! Can I please request Record of Ragnarok Hades with Kanae Kocho!fem!reader headcanons? Thank you!

warning: spoilers from the manga, ooc.

Here it is! Sorry it took me so long to respond! Enjoy! :)

Let it be known that Persephone is and always will be Hades’ first love. 

Eons ago, he adored the tiny goddess of spring, and she returned those feelings wholeheartedly. But not even this witty, charming woman was willingly to change her entire life for him. How could she? She told him. How could I do such a thing when Mother still needs me?

Demeter wanted to always be in control. Not just over the seasons in Midgard and Valhalla, but her daughter’s life as well. Persephone was too precious to the harvest goddess, and she would be damned to give her child’s hand in marriage to someone like himself. 

A monster. 

That is the truth behind the myth surrounding Hades and Persephone: a passionate, yet brief romance. When it was over, he had come to accept his fate; forever alone, watching over the underworld with an iron fist. 

Just as a king would do. 

His interest in women faded with time, preferring to exert his energy into making sure his domain would thrive and there wasn’t a single cog out of place in the palace. Everyone and everything has a role to play, and by doing so accordingly, things will fall into place. Never love. 

When the Bifrost fell, demons began pouring through the fractured gates and into Valhalla, causing chaos everywhere. This catastrophic event gave rise to a fallen organization that had once combated them in Midgard many years ago, eradicating its progenitor and allowing the humans to finally live in peace. The Demon Slayer Corps. 

With its resurrection came a proposal that Hades knew Kaguya Ubuyashiki would not refuse. His family had been overseeing the organization for over a thousand years, no one knew its works as intimately as he and his predecessors. There is no one else who fit for the job as the head of the Demon Slayer Corps….but Ubuyashiki would sooner disband the Hashiras than assemble them to work for someone who operated from behind the shadows. 

The Hashiras, the kakushi, the medics….they were all his children. No one would control them like puppets. Hades’ respect for mortals was raised ever so slightly in that very moment with Kaguya Ubuyashiki in the wisteria gardens of his estate. 

Once negotiations were established, the Demon Slayer Corps laid its foundation in Valhalla. To show a sign of goodwill towards their new ‘business partner’,  the Ubuyashiki household elected a former Hashira to be the middle-man. Someone who will send information between both parties and coordinate meetings if needed. 

That person is [First Name] Kocho, known by her companions as the Flower Hashira. Although she had been offered a place in the ranks, she sweetly declined and opted to help from the shadows than the front lines. She wanted to live a peaceful afterlife with her sisters, if that is possible. 

In the beginning, Hades did not think much of the Flower Hashira beyond her excellent work ethic. She was professional, polite, and empathetic. This behavior was not extended towards him only, as he had initially expected due to being the lord of the underworld. 

She respected his subordinates, greeting them with a beaming smile and wishing them to have a pleasant day or helping someone with their workload. She followed the orders given to her, though if she had any concerns, she did not hesitate to say something once she had given permission to speak instead of raising her voice in a meeting. 

To his embarrassment, he fell for the Flower Hashira hard and quickly. Though…could someone blame him? 

The question now is…how could even approach this lovely mortal woman when she is fiercely protected by her younger sisters and an army of highly-trained demon exterminators? More importantly, how to not let his damned brother Zeus find out about it. It’d be one thing if it was Poseidon because the tyrant of the oceans knew how to keep his mouth shut, but Valhalla’s supreme god? Not bloody likely, that damned gossipmonger.

[perseabeth]

The Promise of the Wild Sea

< this is not an official fic yet, i had this AU in my mind for a while, and now i got the time to write few parts of it. if the story was to your liking, i might get encouraged to make it an official fic. i’d like to remind you that i do not own any of the characters, as they all belong to the original myths and Rick Riordan. except for the oc Callista. however, i made some alternation in the myths that could benefit my story. i hope you like these changes. also this is a fem!percy version. enjoy reading >

- 1184 BCE, The fallen city of Troy -

Apollo stood in front of Callista’s pyre, the flames not yet lit, his gaze fixed on her lifeless face. Her once radiant beauty now drained, her cheeks no longer flushed with the color of life. Her hair, dark as the starless night, framed a visage that seemed at peace, a peace she had found only in death. Yet, she had stolen his peace with her departure, leaving him hollow and bereft.

With painstaking care, he had smoothed away every bruise, every mark of the cruelty she had endured, wishing to present her to the underworld in the full splendor of her glory. His Callista, his heart. He clutched the two drachmas in his hand, the coins a symbol of her final journey, but to him, they were a cruel reminder of his eternal separation from her. How could he consign her to the underworld, knowing he would be condemned to an eternity without her by his side?

His soul ached with a grief that seemed too vast to contain. With a trembling breath, he placed the drachmas on her closed eyes, sealing her fate, preparing her for her voyage to the underworld. She deserved a realm free from the sorrows of war and the sting of death, a place of peace and light. He swore on his immortal soul that she would find solace in Elysium.

Apollo leaned down, his tears falling like rain upon her serene face, pressing a final kiss to her cold, unresponsive forehead.

“Farewell, my Callista... until we meet again, my angel.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun god cradled her cheeks in his trembling hands, his soy blue eyes filled with the agony of days spent pleading with his uncle, the merciless lord of death, for this moment. She was there in his embrace, radiant as the true princess she was, her beauty untouched by the shadows of the underworld. Her black hair cascaded down her back like the soft night sky, a dark tapestry embroidered with stars in silken threads. Her eyes, those mesmerizing sea-green eyes, gazed up at him—the very eyes he had yearned to kiss open one last time before cruel fate tore her away.

But nothing unfolded as he had hoped.

"My lord," Callista whispered, her eyes shining with boundless love for the man before her. She wore a white, elegant chiton that clung to her form with an ethereal grace, adorned with a delicate laurel crown—a vision of Trojan royalty. Apollo shook his head, refusing to accept the words forming on her lips. "No, you are coming with me," he implored, tears welling up in his sky-blue eyes, each drop a testament to his anguish. He was begging, pleading for her to return with him to the world of the living.

The princess before him shook her head gently, her gaze unwavering. "No, my lord, I am dead. I am happy here," she said softly. She took his palm, still cradling her cheek, and pressed a tender kiss upon it, as if sealing their fates with that simple, heartbreaking act. "You must respect the rules of death, my love. You must go on and find happiness in the lands of the living."

Her words stabbed his heart, despite the delicateness of her voice, despite the sweetness of her words, and despite the loveliness of her eyes. She was pushing him away, each word like a dagger twisting deeper.

Callista looked at him again, her gaze filled with a sorrowful resolve. "I'm with my family, and you should be with yours. Lord Zeus will not be tolerable when he hears that you brought me back from death."

Apollo tried to reason with her, desperation lacing his voice. "But Uncle Hades has already accepted," he argued, only to be met with another tender kiss on his palm from Callista.

"I'm not letting you get into an argument with your father," she replied softly. She lifted her hand and gently caressed the strand of his hair falling on his forehead. Her melodic voice continued, soothing yet heartbreaking. "You will live on. You will find happiness again, I'm sure."

"My happiness is with you only," he insisted, his voice breaking.

But Callista only shook her head with a sad smile. "That's what you're saying now, because the pain is so new. But trust me, my love... time will go on, life will go on." She looked into his eyes, her determination unyielding. He knew there was no way to change her heart. She gave him a beautiful smile that could have brightened his days if not for their situation. "You did all you could. You made sure I found my final rest in a beautiful place. Now it's your turn to let go... to move on."

Apollo's tears threatened to fall, threatening to drown his eyes. He did the only thing he could do in that moment; he planted a soft, small kiss on her lips, a goodbye kiss filled with all the sorrow of a love that could never be. It was a kiss that spoke of unending longing and the crushing weight of farewell.

He would never force her to do anything. If she was happy, he would be happy, even if it meant an immortal lifetime of his heart shattering every day he remembered that she wasn't waking up next to him.

His time in the underworld was ticking away, leaving him with precious few moments to spare in the arms of his beloved. How cruel fate is, he thought, that even time refuses to grant him a longer respite to find peace in her embrace one last time.

He kissed her forehead once more, a goodbye kiss—the same kiss he had planted on her brow the day of her pyre, the day they consigned her body to the flames in a solemn ritual of farewell. He looked into those beautiful eyes one last time. "I swear to you, I’ll always find you in the stars, in the calm oceans, in the beautiful sunlight, in the warm flames, and in the serene mountains. You will always haunt me, forever haunt my life, Callista."

This earned him a sad smile from her beloved face, and he realized he loved all her smiles except this one. "Who knows, maybe someday you will find me again, amidst the moors or maybe in the wild sea."

He nodded, a silent nod, as a single tear traced a path down his cheek. He kissed her hands one last time and turned his back, leaving his beloved, leaving his heart, leaving the bane of his soul in Elysium, where she belonged. Before he stepped away, he turned to her one last time. "Someday, I’ll find you in the wild sea."

With that, Apollo left the underworld, each step a testament to the immortal lifetime of sorrow that awaited him, a sorrow he would bear for the love he could never truly hold again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

- December, 2007. New York City-

"And now, sis. Transportation for the Hunters, you say? Good timing. I was just about ready to roll.

"These demigods will also need a ride," Artemis said, pointing to us. "Some of Chiron's campers."

"No problem!" Apollo checked us out. "Let's see... Thalia, right? I've heard all about you."

Thalia blushed. "Hi, Lord Apollo."

"Zeus's girl, yes? Makes you my half sister. Used to be a tree, didn't you? Glad you're back. I hate it when pretty girls turn into trees. Man, I remember one time—"

"Brother," Artemis said. "You should get going."

"Oh, right." Then his gaze landed on me, and his eyes widened with a mixture of shock and recognition, as if he had glimpsed a long-lost memory. The once vibrant blue of his eyes now bore golden freckles, a haunting reminder of his divine nature. "Callista?"

I met his gaze, my heart pounding with confusion and uncertainty. Was he mistaking me for someone else, someone from his past? “No. I mean... no, sir."

Calling a teenager "sir" felt awkward, but I knew better than to offend an immortal. They were known to have volatile tempers, and tended to get offended easily. Then they blew stuff up. and now Apollo seems to be on verge of blowing things up, or me perhaps.

His silence stretched on, his eyes still fixed on me, probing and searching. It was as if he was peering into my soul, unraveling the layers of my being with each passing moment.

Eventually, his gaze shifted to his sister, Artemis, who offered him a subtle shake of her head. Their silent exchange felt like a wordless, deep conversation, conveying a depth of understanding that transcended spoken words. Apollo cleared his throat, breaking the tension that hung in the air, before turning his attention back to me.

His gaze shifted abruptly from sheer confusion to a myriad of emotions I couldn't quite pinpoint. It reminded me of the way my mom once described my reaction to blue cookies or a serene beach—a mix of wonder and longing. Yet, as he looked at me, I saw something more. His eyes, now a crystal-clear sky blue, brimmed with an affection that seemed to encompass the entire world. It was a strange sensation, one that left me feeling oddly nervous, knowing that he was a god who could unleash his power at any moment. If it were anyone else, I might have blushed under their gaze. But facing a god for the first time, unsure if he was friend or foe, left me feeling unsettled rather than flustered.

"Percy Jackson," Apollo's voice cut through the tense silence like a blade. For a moment, it felt as though time itself had frozen, as if I were caught in a web of his penetrating gaze. I nodded silently. Then, without a word, he turned away, his attention shifting back to the group. The weight of his gaze that seemed to convey the burden of centuries, left me unsettled.

"Well!" he exclaimed in a cheerful voice again, as if the past few moments were nothing, breaking the silence. "We'd better load up, huh? The ride only goes one way—west. And if you miss it, you miss it."

—

i’d love to hear your opinion about this.

[retrocgads]

USA 1997

[wardenofthecoast]

if there was an asoiaf animated adaptation, I'd like one of two styles to be used - IDK, but they feel like the most appropriate to proide either actual kickass animation or weird jank that is still otherwise loveable.

1. Don Bluth / Myth Fallen Lords

2. 90s Berserk Anime / Myth 2: Soulblighter

[sculptorofcrimson]

When a guardsman dies, they die loyally, marching ever onwards for the Emperor. 

When an Astartes dies, they die valiantly, fighting for His dream.

When a Custodies dies, they die in glory, painfully roaring defiance with every last breath in the name of their lord.

When a Primarch dies, they die in legend, their stories turned to heroism and glamourized beyond a thousand thousand legends and a thousand thousand retellings. They will become less of man and more myth, so closer to fiction it will be as if they never were at all.

And when an Emperor dies, they die in silence. 

It is how legends die. Not in the fires of war, but in the shadows of oblivion, and the wastes of indifference. In the abyss between stars, where even daylight curdles and the silence reigns unbroken. For it is not enough to simply destroy a god, it is to annihilate him, it is to crush him beyond recognition, to to annihilate him so utterly, so completely, his name has been wiped from living memory itself. Even when his last priests roam the earth and scream out their preachings to the vapid earth, he will be forgotten, wasting away in silent oblivion. It will be as if he never were at all. 

It is to erase every remnant of his grand conquests, to topple the greatest of his creations, to crush his accomplishments so utterly that all records he once reigned are forgotten at all. For that is the death from which no soul can recover, the wrath of the cosmos so absolute, so unbreakable, even divine existence itself has fallen from the fabric of reality. For that is the death where gods die, where even star-killers decay and before which thirsting gods laugh. 

For that is the meaning of death, true, utter and absolute.

[mask131]

There is a trope I really like when it comes to magic in fantasy, and it is the "inhuman wizard/witch".

In fantasy nowadays, the origin of magic mostly boils down to two things. On one side: "learned" magic. It is an art and knowledge you can learn, train and develop and anybody can be a wizard, witch, sorcerer, warlock, whatever. On the other side: you are born with your powers, magic is something inherent in you, that you cannot control.

But the third way is the trope I enjoy and I don't see it being brought up a lot: certain characters have magic because they are NOT human. (And I am not speaking of The Owl House style where witches are just a separate species, no, no no).

This trope is literaly as old as time, it being highlighted by folkloric, legendary and mythological characters like Merlin, Circe, Baba-Yaga, Vaïnamoïnen: most of the great enchanters and sorcerers of legend, most of the powerful witches of myth and folklore, were demigods, half-devil or even minor gods themselves. Being a wizard wasn't just a random business, and it wasn't just being born "special" - it was about belonging to an entirely different level of existence.

I do note that it is quite strange for this trope not to have gotten more of a success because it was a key part of THE great work of the fantasy genre, The Lord of the Rings, + The Silmarillion. In it the Five Wizards, the Istari ; but also Sauron (in his necromancer/sorcerer persona), and Melian (the closest thing Tolkien had to an enchantress or sorceress), are all applications of this trope. They literaly are Middle-Earth's embodiments of wizards, witches, enchanters and sorceresses, but they are such powerful magic users precisely because they do not "come from this world" but rather are divine spirits made flesh, angelic beings disguised as humans/elves, minor gods who bound themselves to these appearances. And yet, when you look at the many Tolkienesque imitators or renewers (Shannara, Belgariad, Wheel of Time, Fionavar Tapestry) they all insist on the wizards and witches being... human.

C.S. Lewis, in his Narnia books, also followed Tolkien's trope, by having his wizards be literal fallen stars stuck on Earth - a concept of "astral magic" that will be reused in works such as "A Wrinkle in Time" where the trio of planet-travelling witches are pointed out to have had previous existences as suns and other stellar phenomenon. Lewis' witches also originally were depicted as otherworldy, inhuman entities (half-giant half-jinn entity working as a sort of angel for the fantasy equivalent of God, giant demonic snake taking the shape of a lady) before he gave us a new Jadis backstory making her more "human", so to speak, or at least part of a neat and clear-cut species.

There's also Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser, where the two great magic-users, Sheelba of the Eyeless Face and Ningauble of the Seven Eyes, aren't just hyper-powerful and very weird sorcerers, but also strongly implied (if not outright said) to be interdimensional alien entities.

This trope does creep up and shine in some fantasy works from time to time, but it is quite rare. A recent example I ABSOLUTELY adored is the Witch of Sarnwood, from "Kingdoms of Thorn and Bone". The trope is also used frequently in French fantasy (probably because it has closer roots with fairytales and medieval tales, where enchanters and witches are more inhuman) but since it probably won't evoke anything to people here I won't do a full list, just point out the character of The Enchanter in Michel Pagel's great "Les flammes de la nuit". (But it isn't very surprising given Pagel's work is part-Shakespearian fantasy, and Shakespeare was a famous user of this idea of "inhuman magic users", with his Weird Sisters from Macbeth, for example)

And of course, I have to speak about The Lich from Adventure Time, which is probably THE big highlight of this trope in modern day. The Lich is presented as, well, a manifestation of a D&D lich, as just your typical undead "evil lord sorcerer", but then as we move more and more down the story it is revealed he is literaly the embodiment and vessel of a cosmic force of destruction and mass extinction that dates back to the primordial monsters before time itself... This is notably such a Tolkienesque move, because I don't think I ever saw such a big character-exploration/twist reveal since Tolkien slowly revealed the Hobbit's Necromancer was Sauron, and then who Sauron originally was - in fact when you look at Youtube "lore videos" trying to piece out the background and evolution of the Lich, you will notice they do bear a striking resemblance to videos discussing the "Necromancer" of the Hobbit and how it ties to Sauron... Someone should one day point out all the Tolkienesque elements in Adventure Time, but that will be for another day.

Conclusion? It is quite fascinating to see how magic-users started out a lot of the time as these otherworldy divine or demonic beings, these inhuman forces that merely appear human somehow, but today people seem to REALLY like and REALLY prefer their wizards and witches to be human, and I guess relatable? The biggest example being the Harry Potter phenomenon, and even more recently the Owl House because while they are not "humans" per se, they are still basically an alternate humanity, instead of being stars in human masks or unique alien beings travelling time and space like Doctor Who.

(By the way, did you ever notice that Doctor Who was literaly designed to be a sci-fi version of the fantasy genre? If not, then I have another post to make... But yes, the Doctor is literaly an alien, sci-fi version of a wizard/sorcerer, down to the magic wand/sonic screwdriver.)

[a-gnosis]

12: Isis and Osiris, part 3

This great one is fallen on his side, he who is in Nedyt is cast down. Your arm is taken by Ra, your head is lifted up by the two enneads. Behold he has come as Orion, behold, Osiris has come as Orion, Lord of wine at the wag-festival. 'Perfect one,' said his mother; 'Heir,' said his father. Conceived by heaven, born of the underworld: Heaven conceived you together with Orion; The underworld bore you together with Orion. Whoever lives, lives by the gods' commands: you shall live! You shall set forth with Orion in the eastern part of heaven; You shall descend with Orion in the western part of heaven. Making three of you is Sirius, pure of thrones: She is your guide on the goodly parts of heaven, In the Field of Reeds.

From the Pyramid Texts of Pepi I translated by Toby Wilkinson.

The Pyramid Texts are a diverse group of hymns, incantations and spells, composed to assist the deceased king in his resurrection, ascension to the sky and admission into the company of gods. In the Sixth Dynasty the cult of Osiris was on the rise, thus Osiris began to play a key role in this transition from death to rebirth, and the texts make explicit references to the Osiris myth. Nedyt is the mythical location where Osiris was slain by his brother Seth. The Field of Reeds is a concept associated with the Osirian model of the afterlife: an agricultural idyll where the deceased could live an eternal life of fertility and abundance.