#and then i made it so using the powers bestowed upon me by god

[obikindred]

Grief/gain

[ma1dita]

it will pass

part two can be found here -> without a doubt

words: little under 2k

summary: Without a doubt, James Potter loves you. But he’s not in love with you.

warnings: none! fem!reader; i would die for best friend!james, did not demonize lily; angst, unrequited love, lil childhood speech impediment, cheesy nicknames, sharing clothes, will they wont they (they wont im sorry)

a/n: guess who just rewatched fleabag szn 2! i chose pain today sorry— god i missed writing. i am a words of affirmation gorl pls affirm me

(posted 9/8/23)

—

There isn’t a single doubt that James Potter loves you.

You’ve been attached at the hip since training broomsticks and pinky swears in Godric’s Hollow. You accidentally call a boy ‘Jam’ once because of your childhood speech apraxia, and he swears you’re meant to be his best friend.

“Don’t worry, I can be loud enough for the both of us, peanut!”

Like peanut butter and jelly, you two were a perfect match– and even better partners in crime. When James puts his mind to something, he sees it through. So even if you were honestly unable to string the words together, who were you to say no?

Technically it’s somewhat official too, by whatever imaginary power was bestowed upon the Potter’s house elf for your very elaborate backyard fantasy wedding the two of you had when you were seven. All of your parents were in attendance, along with your cat and you all had blueberry cupcakes after your first and only kiss.

“Miss Mippy pronounces you huzbind and wife!”

Giggles are heard all around as the tiny elf tripped on her way off the stool, knocking both your heads together. James lost a front tooth that day, but he grinned for the pictures your mothers took anyway. Without a doubt, he loves you.

—

There wasn’t anyone at Hogwarts who would expect one of you to be present without the other following behind. You never had to hold back your smart mouth because James was always willing to finish your fights. The both of you were a package deal, with your number of protectors growing once Remus, Sirius, and Peter came along. It was not a routine you both consciously established, but rather second nature to be in each other’s lives. Like how you always made sure his glasses were clean before quidditch matches and he’d chuck his extra jersey at your face for you to wear.

“Stay warm during the game okay? I’ll see you later, love you!”

He skated around your waist, blowing a raspberry onto your cheek as he grabbed his glasses from your fingers.

“Don’t fall off your broom. Love you too, loser.” You’re already tugging his jersey over your head, inhaling his signature scent of broom polish, cinnamon, and Sleakeasy’s hair potion.

James smiled at you softly, before running to meet up with his team. After Gryffindor won again, he threw you over his shoulder and you laughed and yelled that he smelled like sweat. He always tucked you in his bed after parties, wrapping you in his arms once the lights go out. Without a doubt, he loves you.

—

Your friendship is stronger than most romantic relationships, and as your teenage years fly by, both of you realize how rare that is. He often took you to the kitchens to eat vanilla sundaes after boys broke your heart (and they got black eyes to match, courtesy of him and the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team) and you would listen to him, building him up and calming him down through years of pining over a certain Lily Evans. You were there for each other through everything, silly crushes, secret trysts, boring detentions, and highly esteemed accolades. If there ever were such a thing as soulmates, you knew it had to be him, even if it was platonic. Just being around someone as vibrant as James made you consider yourself lucky.

You once saw your best friend with his head in his hands on your way to a date—he was moping after a nasty prank on Snape went wrong; it ended in Lily crying and after defending her albeit quite boisterously in true James fashion, he still didn’t get the girl.

He gets up to see you walking down the corridor to meet him halfway, and before you even speak he rubs his eyes, posture shrinking as his towering frame melts into your embrace.

“Don’t know why I thought it’d be different this time,” he mumbles, and you gladly carry the weight of his heart.

“Let’s go swimming in the Black Lake, ” you say suddenly, rubbing his broad back in small circles.

“But peanut, you have a date in an hour! You’re all dolled up and pretty...”

“I’ll have more dates. You need me right now, jelly. I’ve got you.” His nickname makes you blush a little more than you should sometimes, so you only ever pull it out as a trick up your sleeve to make him feel better.

“Love you,” you whisper, brushing through the hair at the nape of his neck.

He breathes easily for the first time in hours, mouth curling up from its frown when he sees you walk straight into the lake water with your nicest clothes on, not even hesitating for a moment. Without a doubt, he loves you.

—

When James puts his mind to something, he sees it through. So years later, when your best friend asks you if you could go wedding ring shopping with him to propose to the love of his life, who were you to decline? I mean, who else would go with him?

“Come on, (Y/N). I need my best girl with me to make the biggest decision of my life.” he’s practically moaning, the man ever so dramatic as he’s sprawled across your couch.

“And why aren’t you dragging Sirius with you again?”

Your eyebrow is raised as you stand at his feet, lifting his burly legs for you to place yourself under and get comfortable.

“What does Sirius know about women? He’d tell me to get the shiniest one and leave!” James’ yells into your throw pillow, anguished at the thought. You pull it off his face, before he quietly admits, “I just want to get it right.”

“When are we going?” you answer, without missing a beat.

Later that week, the saleslady recommends a wide array of glimmering engagement bands, none of which are for you. But you let yourself fall into the fantasy of the what-ifs, flashing back to your flower crown and candy ring wedding, wondering if it could’ve been you getting proposed to by him in another life.

“Would you like to try a few on?” the saleslady asks, assuming you two are together.

“Show me and my girl your best. No price limit.” he grins.

And how dare she assume that, as he puts his head on your shoulder, whisking you around the store to look at stunning rings, fingers brushing, and the both of you being able to communicate clearly with no words spoken. James plays along with the saleslady, finally choosing a whimsical-looking diamond setting placed upon your left ring finger. You remind yourself it’s not yours. Your heart comes to a screeching halt and you can’t help but feel all of a sudden like he’s being mean.

After all, he’s not yours, not really.

There is a little bit of doubt now and a weird tightness in your chest that makes you think of the possibility that you’re in love with James Potter.

—

Like a good best friend, you help him plan his proposal. James’ love is loud, pulling all the stops, and preferring the grandest of gestures.

“James, you are not proposing to Lily with a flash mob.”

“But it would be so cool! After all, my heart dances every time I see her face.” he wiggles his eyebrows as he takes a sip of his butterbeer.

“Your heart might, but you, unfortunately, are the worst dancer I’ve ever seen.” You laugh, reaching over to tug the quill out of his hand, crossing it off his list. He pulls you into a headlock, kissing the side of your face teasingly.

“What would I ever do without you, peanut?”

You wipe James’ spit off your cheek, pushing his face away, blushing from his attention.

“Combust, probably.”

Your heart is dancing now too, and you realize that there isn’t a single doubt that you’re in love with your best friend.

—

You keep yourself busy in the month before his proposal. It hurt learning too many details, such as what flowers he wanted to order to bring out her eyes (pink and yellow tulips), and scouting out the perfect location on the beach he picked (next to the lighthouse you and him visited as kids), even down to how he’d convince Lily to wear white without being suspicious (honestly he just expected you to do him a favor for this one). But after seeing each other almost every day for more than half your life, he knew something was off when you became distant.

James shows up at your apartment, his key in hand, but he decides to knock anyway. The sound of the TV is muffled, lowering in volume until he hears your footsteps pad over to the door and it swings open. You’re in one of his old Quidditch sweaters and fluffy blue socks.

“Hey. Wasn’t expecting you to come by.” You smile timidly, as he leans against the doorframe peering down at you.

“Never used to have to tell you.”

“James...” you stutter, before awkwardly opening the door completely. He shuffles towards the couch, keeping his shoes on as he sits at the end, and there’s a certain tension in the air that frightens you. You’re not sure if you’ll come out of this one unscathed.

“Talk to me (Y/N). What’s been going on with you? You don’t answer my calls, you don’t write back, hell, I haven’t seen you in a month because you started deadbolting your door. Did I do something?”

Yes, James Potter. Ever so blunt and to the point, your favorite person in the world is sitting on your couch uncomfortable with the fact that you’re not comfortable around him anymore.

You fight back against your instincts to tell him what’s wrong, but the three words escape your mouth before you can even take a breath.

“I love you.”

It’s silent. The floor creaks as you shift your weight onto your other leg. You lock eyes with him for the first time that night, and so many things are going through your head that you hope he’s able to pick up on how you’ve been physically aching, carrying the weight of his love for Lily for years.

James looks like he’s about to shake his head, and you beat him to it. You don’t want pity, and he knows that, but he mutters a consolation into the air.

“It’ll pass.”

No, it won’t. Not this.

You think he knows that too. He smiles sadly, watching you turn shrinking into yourself. You never were good at thinking before you spoke. A tear drips down your cheek as you look at your socks again. Your love for him is too big and too loud for your chest cavity to handle. This love feels like dramatic choral music clashing and banging around in your ribs.

“I’m—”

“Don’t apologize. This one’s on me,” you say, stopping him before he finishes speaking.

Without a doubt, James Potter loves you. But he’s not in love with you.

“What I was going to say...is that I’m going to have to ask you not to show up to the engagement party. It’ll be better for the both of us. We can start again from there if you want... Peanut...”

The term of endearment hangs in the air. Your dancing heart was a ticking time bomb after all. The fragments hit your insides, tearing you apart as it combusts, and you realize that nothing will be the same after this.

James stands abruptly, shoving his hands in his pockets. He hesitates before he kisses your temple, and for some reason, this feels like a goodbye. After all, when James sets his mind on something, he sees it through. He’s been set on Lily for years.

You’re his best friend, he swears. And there are no words you can think of to deny that.

—

The End

“I don’t know what to say,” he said.

“It’s okay,” she replied. “I know what

we are— and I know what we’re not.”

Lang Leav

[aphroditelovesu]

Since requests are closing in a few days, I just wanted to put another one in. No rush go get it done of course!

I want to request a oneshot/reaction where Alexander gives reader a really, REALLY expensive necklace. Maybe it's a wedding present, a just because present , or something following the birth of the twins. You can decide what you want to do with that 😁!

Also, I keep picturing a necklace made of opal??? Not only is it a stunning gem stone, but it was also thought to be the tears of Zeus in ancient Greece, which would be an interesting tie to Alexander. Again, it's just a suggestion. You can use whatever gemstone you want!

Thanks, and take care ❤️❤️❤️!

--O-

❝ 📜— lady l: this had been sitting in my drafts for a while and I finally decided to write it. I got a little carried away, so it's a little big, but I hope you like it and if you want to order anything else, feel free, anon! Good reading and forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️

❝tw: none, just fluff and very soft!Alexander.

❝📜pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader.

❝word count: 1,308.

Alexander wanted to find something to give you. Something expensive and extravagant, something that would leave you impressed.

He felt like he owed you that. Not only had you given birth to his children, but you were loved by him and he wanted to please you. He thought of several options: a horse, silk clothes, food and even drink. He still wasn't sure what you might like.

Until he had an idea after talking to Hephaestion. He was the one who gave you the idea of giving you a necklace made from a special and rare gem. And he knew it was the right choice to make.

It was no easy task to get a merchant to have the necklace he liked and deemed worthy of you to wear around your delicate neck, but after the fifth try with a different merchant, he finally knew what your gift should be. He decided to gift you with an opal necklace, a jewel that reflected the beauty and mystery of his passion.

It would change color and he would know that it would look beautiful and graceful on your neck. Everything about you was beautiful and graceful, so the necklace would only stand out on you and no one else.

This opulent piece was adorned with the most dazzling opals that could be found in the entire Empire. Each stone sparkled with vibrant colors, dancing like the aurora borealis reflected in the starry night. The necklace was a unique treasure, a harmony of opalescent hues, displaying hues of celestial blue, emerald green, and royal purple.

The merchant who sold it told him a story about the necklace and it was this story that convinced him to buy it. According to the Persian merchant, legend said that opals were gifts from star spirits, who bestowed their blessings on those who used them with love and wisdom. The necklace was not just a piece of jewelry, but a source of magical power. Its colors and reflections were believed to contain the essence of nature, connecting the wearer to the spiritual realms and bringing fortune and protection.

Whoever owned the opal necklace was seen as a keeper of ancient secrets, an heir to the ancient magic that flowed through the precious stones. It was said that opal possessed the ability to amplify intuition and creativity, allowing the wearer to see beyond the ordinary, opening doors to new possibilities and inspiration.

After this explanation, Alexander knew that this necklace must be yours. Not just because of your story, but because of who you were. From when you really came. No one was more worthy than you.

There was also another version of the story that convinced him to buy it. Knowing how religious Alexander was, the merchant also told him that the opal was made from the tears of Zeus. Long ago, at the beginning of Greek civilization, when the gods walked among mortals, Zeus, the mighty king of the gods, shed tears of joy and sorrow over human fate. These tears, upon touching the earth, transformed into radiant stones known as opals, carrying within them the duality of emotions of the great god.

Thus was born the opal, a legendary gem forged by Zeus' own tears. Each stone was shaped from divine emotions, capturing the essence of heaven and earth. Its unique iridescence reflected not only the colors of the rainbow, but also the contrasting feelings of joy and sadness, hope and despair, harmonized in an eternal dance of light and shadow. Ancient sages believed that the necklace was not just a manifestation of beauty, but rather a link between mortals and the gods. It was said that whoever wore the opal necklace would be enveloped in the protection of Zeus and would have the divine wisdom to navigate life's challenges.

And maybe when little Aella grew up, he could give her a necklace similar to the one he chose for you.

He smiled at the thought and with the necklace inside a small wooden box with gold ornaments, he walked to the room you shared in the Babylonian palace. Straightening his posture, Alexander knocked on the door and after hearing a soft ''come in'', he opened the door and smiled widely when he saw you sitting in a padded chair with Aella in one arm and Cyrus in the other. He fell silent when he realized the twins were asleep.

You looked at him and smiled softly when you saw what he had in his hands. Alexander placed the box on a table next to the bed and approached you, carefully taking Cyrus in his arm. You smiled lovingly when you saw him cuddling the baby in his arms.

Whispering, Alexander says, ''I have something for you.''

You smiled and asked curiously, ''What is it?''

Alexander carefully picked up the box with the arm that wasn't swinging Cyrus and placed him on your lap, looking at you expectantly. You smiled and opened the box with a little difficulty due to the sleeping child in your arms. Your eyes widened when you saw the lush opal necklace. You had never seen such beautiful jewelry.

Alexander, who was watching you like a hawk, smiled at you.

''Alexander, that's…'' You swallowed and took the necklace in your hand, carefully observing its details. The necklace was a magnificent piece, a heavenly masterpiece that captivated the eyes of all who dared to gaze upon it. Every aspect of the necklace was a symphony of intertwined beauty and magic.

The centerpiece of the necklace consisted of a main opal, a generously sized gem that radiated an unparalleled iridescent glow. This central opal was an explosion of celestial color, with soft, shimmering hues that moved like an aurora borealis trapped within the gemstone. Its tones ranged from the deep blue of twilight to the lush green of enchanted forests, and occasional glimpses of the deep red of divine fire.

Around the main opal, a series of smaller opals were skillfully arranged, forming a necklace that seemed to have been woven by the stars' own hand. Each smaller gem had its own color personality, some glowing an ethereal blue, others a crystalline green, and still others with purple and gold hues reminiscent of the sun setting over distant mountains.

The structure of the necklace was as intricate as the reflections of the opals. Delicate strands of gold wove between the gems, creating a sparkling frame that complemented the iridescence of the opals. Small, intricate metal sculptures, decorated with designs that resembled star constellations, adorned the necklace, giving it an aura of ancient magic.

''Do you like it?'' Alexander asked after you remained silent, observing the necklace with a strange expression.

''I loved it.'' You whispered, admiring the necklace. Alexander walked over to you and took the necklace from your hands and placed Cyrus back in your arms, careful not to wake him. He stood behind you and removed your hair from your neck, placing the magnificent necklace around your neck. You closed your eyes when you felt the touch of his calloused fingers on your skin and sighed when the necklace was placed on you.

''I'm glad, it suits you.'' He kissed your neck affectionately and you closed your eyes, smiling.

Alexander leaned closer to your ear and whispered, ''When I heard the story about the opal… I knew it would have to be yours and yours alone.''

You opened your eyes and turned your head, looking at him. ''And what is this story?''

Alexander smiled widely and after kissing your forehead, he began to tell you both stories he had heard from the merchant. You just listened in silence, delighting in his words, with your sleeping children on your arm and the weight of the beautiful necklace around your neck.

Your small, loving family.

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

Rebel please hear me out! Kratos! Reader w/ a twist!

This is an AU I’ve been dreaming of for like a week now. Btw ‘Kratos’ is a nickname Teyvat’s citizens gave the reader, not their actual birth name

Centuries ago, before the Great Archon War was a massacre like no other. All your beloved Archons of today had radically different personalities. Most of them took their divine roles for granted by succumbing to sin. Until one day: The mortals rebelled. They were fed up, but not quite like one bitter soul was.

A being made of flesh with gold flowing through their veins was born. The half blood was the embodiment of humanity’s wrath. They led mankind to war with the Gods. Nearly 2/3 of deities were slaughtered within a year. This was the year the Gods were humbled…..

In the end, Kratos was tragically slain by the hands of their own heavenly parent. That massacre was a painful lesson that present day Archons still follow: Devotion is something that is earned. For someone to be devoted to you, they must have respect and faith that you will lead them in the right direction. Do not abuse the faith others bestow upon you.

To this very day, humans still praise their name. They erected statues in their likeness. Kratos is viewed as a champion of mankind by the mortals, a bittersweet reminder of a shameful period in time for certain for the divine……So get this. In an ironic twist of fate, centuries later, a baby was placed at the doorstep of a cathedral one late night. A baby who was born with very familiar tattoo-like markings on their body.

An Archon, who was spared by that same tortured soul, was now cradling the tiny babbling creature. “Oh. My. Heavens. H-how!? Do you remember me, Little One? I am deeply regretful for the suffering we caused. Please, can we start anew? A fresh beginning for all of us.”

Sincerely, 🌩️ Anon

🌩️ ANON IM SO SORRY I DIED ON YOU 😭😭😭😭😭😭

But holy cow this is a good narrative. I 100% love this! Definitely gets the brain juices going for sure 👀👀👀👀

Kratos being a mortal ascending to the powers of divinity solely because of their bitter nature and revenge-esque methods is definitely interesting! I might write something (no promises) if I find the motivation in myself :D

Venti having PTSD fr tho—somebody get him a therapist 😔

[gomu-fer]

The sparrow and the hunter

Zoro x fem!reader

Warnings: pure fluff, mentions of daggers, zoro making fun of gods as he does, fem reader can transform into an animal idk thought you should know

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: In which Zoro falls hard for you and he struggles with it

𖤓˖⁺‧₊☽𓅨☾₊‧⁺˖𖤓

When you first joined the crew, Zoro was very skeptical about what you actually would bring to the table, since your abilities were… unique to say the least, but you had helped them giving useful information and advise when in a very tight situation, and who was he to doubt his captains decisions.

“A BIRD?” Luffy exclaimed almost jumping out of his seat. Yes, you could turn into a bird

“Yep, that’s why I am a good informant! People don’t suspect of a tiny sparrow flying around” you explained followed by a wink

“But… how?!” The navigator asked still confused

You turned around tugging your shirt slightly down and removing your hair form your back to reveal a tattoo “This is an ancient mark that was bestowed upon me by my people, the mark of a god called Quetzalcoatl, also known as the feathered snake. It carries the power that allows me to transform”

This only made Zoro grow even more doubtful about you, a god? It sounded like a fairytale to him. But as it turned out, you were also a fearless fighter, extremely skillful with daggers and combined with your special ability it made you fierce, which earned you his respect quickly after having fought beside him and the strawhats.

As you slowly went from the quiet reserved new crewmate to show your real colors of a confident caring bright and easygoing individual, the swordsman didn’t mind sharing with you the ‘training zone’ which was just a section of the going merry Nami had assigned to such activities to prevent accidents. Most if not all of the time you would train separately since you only did cardio and battle training and Zoro was more of a heavy lifting kind of guy. Both seemed to enjoy the silence of each other’s company and only exchanging few hellos and goodbyes.

But of course that slowly began to change when Zoro became curious on your fighting tactics

“Where did you get that dagger?” He asked from the other side of the ‘gym’ after staring at you training from a while, you turned to him a little taken aback, he wasn’t the one to talk let alone start a conversation

“I made it myself when I was 12” you answered as you slowly walked to where the stoic swordsman was standing.

Zoro had noticed how this dagger was different from the others you kept on your belt, not only was the shape and overall hold and design different, you kept it in a cover around your thigh at all times, so it peeked his interest

You presented the dagger, making slow steady movements that made it shine in the afternoon sun, it indeed looked more homemade, and the sharp edge was of a black shiny material he had never seen before.

“My father was a hunter, he showed me how to build this type of daggers to protect myself since we lived in the mountains… and for artistic purposes” Zoro’s eyes examined every detail of the weapon, and in further examination he noticed how indeed everything about it was really you, your essence was plastered all over it

“Interesting” he said still fixated on the dagger “You can hold it”

Zoro looked at you now closer and speaking almost in a whisper, you handed him your beloved weapon and he took it slowly. It was lighter than he expected it to be, he made an aggressive strong move as if he was cutting something and you giggled which made him embarrassed and a little insecure

“What?” He blurted out in defense

“You don’t use it like that, it’s meant for self defense or close targets. You have to move fast and steady” you took his hand in yours and demonstrated how to attack with it cornering your own throat between the dagger

“Always strike with purpose”

The swordsman felt his heart rate accelerate and a pink blush creeping from his neck, his gaze fixated in yours and his mind racing. You offered a sweet smile before removing yourself from the hold, Zoro returned the dagger to you shyly “Nice uhm… technique… and beautiful dagger” he immediately turned around to resume his workout, still flushed and with nervous hands.

The green haired pirate felt his head spinning not believing how you, a freshly arrived new strawhat, had not only allowed him to hold something you treasured and valued so much, but also had pointed it to your neck with his hands while being a man that doubled you in size and strength. His head couldn’t stop thinking about the intimacy of it all, it had left him breathless. You trusted him

But really it was just the beginning of the end for this poor man. Zoro had found himself trying to have more of you, like you had casted a spell, craving for your attention and essence.

He now looked for you when he entered any room, always wanting to be in your presence even while you just were enjoying your hobbies or any mundane task, he was eager to learn things about you and oh what a wonderful person you were to chat to, always keeping the conversation fun and interesting, listening attentively when it was his turn to talk, always sharing a piece of your soul.

You had seen through his stoic scary facade and saw what he really was. Everything that Zoro did was driven by love and the deep meaningful connections with the people around him, always remaining loyal and acting as the protector of the crew not because it’s his job but because he cares. He may not be as expressive as Sanji, but you were able to read him.

This scared Zoro immensely, not only cause he started to catch himself feeling annoyed whenever the stupid cook swooned your way or called you sweet names, or cause he couldn’t stop thinking about you even when training or trying to nap, or cause somehow you seemed to enjoy being around him too. No, it scared him because it made him feel like you had a hold on his heart and was afraid of being vulnerable. He felt weak

So when he finally came to the conclusion he was falling for you, and falling hard, instead of talking about his feelings, he opted for actively avoid you but of course you noticed right away. At first you gave him some time pretending you didn’t notice, he probably needed space from you feeling like you were smothering him, but eventually it had started not only to become ridiculous but to hurt you, because at the contrary of Zoros better judgment, you cared.

You excused yourself from dinner way early one evening, making a lame excuse so that you could finally catch Zoro alone on the crows nest on night watch and confront him, tired of his obnoxious behavior. Your stomach stirred in nervousness as you laid down on your hammock trying to distract yourself while crocheting, the door creaked open and you saw Nami menacingly standing in front of the door

“When are you gonna pull Zoro out of his misery?” your brows furrowed and a scoff escaped your lips

“What are you talking about? He’s the one avoiding me” The navigator rolled her eyes and sighed very loudly clearly annoyed

“He’s head over heels for you y/n! But he doesn’t know what to do just spare him”

“That’s not true” you sounded almost sad, Nami slowly came closer to you changing her approach

“You’re kidding right?, I swear he almost got up and ran after you when you stormed out, he’s smitten I had never seen him like this” you didn’t answer, thinking about his change in behavior and Namis thoughts, it seemed like it made sense

“I was planning on talking to him later anyways”

An exited squirm escaped Nami as she aggressively pushed your hammock back and forth shaking you “FINALLY! I swear you both were driving me insane”

As the sun disappeared behind the ocean and the moon greeted you shining through the cloudless sky, you awaited for everyone to retire to their bedrooms to peek your head through the door of the girls quarters, the ship was lulled by the waves and not a sound could be heard, quite rare for the Merry to be this quiet only confirming everyone was fast asleep.

You looked up to see the swordsman’s green hair peeking through the crows nest, only making you more nervous

“I can see you staring you know?” Zoro spoke loud enough so you could hear but not to wake anyone up, a shiver ran down your spine before you cleared your throat approaching the tall nest

“Can we talk? Please?” You didn’t wait for an answer before transforming and flying your way up, feeling shaky as you landed in the edge and morphing back

“I guess” Zoro whispered, arms crossed in front of his chest looking up at the stars twinkling in the night sky

The gentle breeze made your hair dance revealing your glistening eyes and your pinkish cheeks, the moonlight softened you making you look like a fallen angel that had answered to Zoros prayers. Of course he knew what were you doing here, it made his heart quiver in anticipation both of not having a clue of how you may approach the topic and to finally see you up close again after a long time of staring from afar

“Why are you avoiding me?” Oh so we are going straight to it “I gave you space so you would figure things out, but it has gotten stupid what did I do wrong?”

Silence pierced your ears only hearing your heavy breaths both of how nervous you were and how quickly you had morphed to get up there with him, you had never been so blunt in your life but it was Zoro who we are talking about here there was no way around it

“I don’t know” after a while of you staring at him while his gaze shifted from you to literally anything else this was his response? You sighed defeated before getting up

“I won’t get in your way then” it hurt you deeply but what else could you do if you couldn’t reason with the hardheaded swordsman?. Before you could get on the ladder you felt a strong hand reach yours in a hurry

“Wait… stay” there was a shift in his tone, you had never heard Zoro speak like this, it was like soft plead for understanding. You hesitated but sat back down face to face while he kept his grip on your hand

“If you don’t tell me what you’re feeling I can’t understand Zoro” you also changed your tone to a softer one, making him feel secure, encouraging him to speak up.

There was no other way around it, even if he didn’t felt ready to say it out loud the more he did leaps around his feelings the worse it’ll get. Zoro squished your hand as he struggled to find the words

“I’m avoiding you because I can’t handle the way you make me feel” He couldn’t look at you even if he tried but if he did he would be met with a puzzled expression planted all over your face

“I am falling for you and I don’t know what to do”

Zoro looked intensely into your big orbs that shone as bright as the moonlight above both of you, the confusion of your face was washed away immediately, a loving smile now in its place. You giggled which made him back up in embarrassment you did that often

“You love me you big idiot! That’s what you do” you said before leaning in to lock your lips in his.

The pirates eyes widen in surprise but slowly welcomed your action, melting in your touch and positioning a hand in your back to keep you closer while both of your hands hanged from his neck. You tasted sweet like he imagined but way more addictive, he never wanted to part his lips from yours ever again, but breathing was necessary for both of you.

Your smile came back to your mouth as you separated, cupping both of his cheeks so he would keep looking at you

“I love you Zoro”

An unfamiliar warmth settled on his face, but a wonderful feeling captured his heart and then he knew, if he was to ever give his heart to anyone in the world it’ll be you, you’ll take care of it and love it unconditionally

“If I say it back you’ll kiss me again?” your laugh was heard again brightening the dark sea and the pirates soul

“Yes”

“I love you too y/n”

𖤓˖⁺‧₊☽𓅨☾₊‧⁺˖𖤓

Omg I loved doing this oneeee, and ofc had to represent my culture adding an aztec god as reference ☝🏻 if you want a series or a follow up lmk, as always feel free to request and correct me, English is not mu first language

[cappulcino]

hi!! saw your requests were open!! I dont have anything super specific in mind but an enemies to lovers plot with a lucifer x angel reader would be very cool!

Sure! I was originally going to write the whole thing and post it as a one-shot here, but I got overexcited with this idea and couldn't resist turning this into multiple short chapters and already giving you the first one (idk, let me know if you'd rather have the whole thing when it's done).

Seven Days Til Fall (Part 1)

Part 1 – Part 2 – Part 3 – Part 4 – Part 5

Read on AO3 (you do need to be logged in, though)

Words: 2,185

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Angel!Reader

Summary: You're an angel sent on a divine mission to retrieve a powerful relic that has been stolen from Heaven. The orders are clear: gain an audience with the Devil, make deals with them if necessary, anything to return that object to the Silver City. But Hell is not quite what you expected, and neither is Lucifer.

Trigger warnings: None in this chapter (let me know if you think I should add some)

In the beginning, this assembly had seemed no different from the other monotonous celestial meetings the Divine Council liked to conduct. The session was strictly organised and full of unnecessary details, as per usual, golden light shone through the large windows, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the Silver City –routine, in short.

But now the Archangel Michael was calling your name, and you weren't so sure this would be your typical angelic meeting any more. Nobody ever called your name, it wasn't among those that mattered. Why was he calling your name?

Straightening your slouched back and wings, you answered with uncertainty. "Y-Yes?"

Michael offered a fake smile before returning to his bureaucratic demeanour, his hands joined only by the fingertips on the table.

"As you know, the Cup of Eternal Grace has been missing for quite some time now."

"The… Cup of Eternal Grace. Missing. Yes."

You had forgotten about that –your mind had surely deemed that to be another 'unnecessary detail' from one of the previous assemblies. But it was coming back to you now. The chalice, made of celestial metals and inlaid with precious stones had the power to bestow divine grace upon those who drank from it, offering visions, blessings, and, for humans, even limited immortality. And indeed, the artefact had been lost for a while.

Michael's eyes narrowed at your hesitation, but he continued. "One of our emissaries on Earth had found a lead on the Cup tracing back to some… obscure cult. Unfortunately, by the time he got there, the humans had traded with a demon –they do like to do this for a reason that escapes me. We now have cause to believe the Cup is in Hell."

"I see," you said slowly after a short silence. You weren't sure why this had anything to do with you.

"Its presence in Hell could easily disrupt order or worse, be used to bargain with divine entities. It cannot stay there. We need someone to retrieve it," Michael replied as if annoyed to have to spell out the evidence for you.

Ah, now you understood. "Me?"

"Yes. You."

That Heaven could have so foolishly lost an object that had the potential to tip the balance of the entire universe when in the wrong hands was already astonishing to you. But to entrust you with the task of going to Hell, assuredly face its ruler, and retrieve the Cup? That was hardly believable, and for an angel like you, who had to Believe, that said something. Why didn't Michael go himself?

"I… don't understand. I'm merely a Dominion, and the Morningstar is your sibling, Your Grace."

"Yes, so that's your job." That was Gabriel talking down to you as if you had just uttered the most unintelligent thing in front of the whole congregation. "Besides, we're not going to waste our time when others have been designated for that kind of risky stuff. That would be…" He let out an inelegant snort-laugh.

"What Gabriel means," Uriel intervened in their usual soft-spoken voice, "is that angels among the higher ranks have other matters to attend to, but we cannot ask this of anyone with lesser powers. And well, it is your function to execute divine orders." Uriel paused, scrutinizing your expression. "Would we be making a mistake by putting our faith in you?"

You gulped. "N-No."

"Good."

Plans had been made, and you were now approaching the gates of Hell. Protocol required that you banged a sort of gong by the entrance, and a dead mortal fused into the wall handed you a mallet. You had read somewhere once that the Damned made Hell what it was. At the time, you hadn't understood that meant this realm was literally made of the Damned. You winced and then, forcing the politeness out of your angelic mouth with a small "Thank you", you grabbed the tool.

The gong's echo made the other souls trapped around the gates scream and then, accompanying heavy steps, a deep voice growled.

"There's one at the door. At the gate of damnation. Is it thief, thug or–" Squatterbloat, the gatekeeper suddenly froze in his speech when his gaze landed upon you. An angel, in Hell. Quite the unusual sight. "Whore?"

"Peace be upon you, demon." As you uttered them, you realised how ironic your words sounded.

Squatterbloat chuckled. "We don't accept holy brochures."

His sense of humour compensated for his dreadful looks, and you managed to stop your wings from shuddering. "That is not why I'm here."

"Then state that business of yours."

"I seek an audience with your sovereign."

"Do you now, little cloud-hopper? I fear the Devil doesn't have time for your affairs."

You approached the gate, your wings spreading in a foolish attempt to appear menacing, your tone still polite but steely. "I am an envoy of Heaven, and the matter is urgent. Even you cannot go against God's will, demon. Take me to your master."

Squatterbloat's eyes remained fixated on yours for an instant, and then, his keys jangled.

"Mmh. Right this way… If you dare."

"Oh, what a joyous day," Lucifer purred with a faint smile before relaxing on their throne with a sigh. "Can you feel it, Mazikeen? The innocence? So pure."

"Shall I ask for more guards to stand by Your side?"

"That will not be necessary. That little angel is no threat to Us."

You were certain the ruler of Hell had sensed your arrival –how could they not?– and your suspicions were immediately confirmed when you entered the room. Sitting regally on their throne, the Lightbringer did not even bat an eye as they eyed you and the heavenly glow that surrounded your body. If anything, they seemed… amused.

You had heard many stories about them –though most of those tales still spoke of a Samael– but you had never seen them. Imagery was forbidden in Heaven, of the Devil more than anyone else, and you had never been down to Earth to look at the various depictions humans had made of them either. Therefore, you took a moment to marvel at their appearance, so foreign and yet so familiar, and as your gaze roamed over their leathery wings, you wondered if that was what became of angels' wings after the Fall.

In fact, you wondered about so many things at once that you almost forgot your manners. But Mazikeen's insistent look quickly pulled you out of your reverie.

"Uh, yes. Apologies. Peace be upon You, Lucifer Morningstar," you greeted with a slight bow of your head. "And upon you, Mazikeen of the Lillim." It sounded even sillier than when you had said it to Squatterbloat.

Lucifer let out a small chuckle then and exchanged looks with Mazikeen. Then, as they turned to face you again, they smiled. "It is unusual for Our Father to send His subjects down here. Almost an event, We might say. To what do We owe the pleasure?"

Lucifer's words dripped from their mouth like honey, and you weren't sure whether you found it more captivating or terrifying.

"Well?"

You shook your head and straightened your back some more to give yourself a semblance of presence, and undertook to explain why Michael had sent you here.

"Our dear brother has never liked getting his pristine hands dirty," Lucifer remarked once you were done.

They stood up, took a few slow steps in your direction with a thoughtful expression, and then stopped a mere yard away from you. The way they towered over you and the power they radiated felt overwhelming, and a shiver ran through the feathers of your wings.

"It is not a task fit for his rank," you said. And for a brief moment, you almost convinced yourself of what Gabriel had told you earlier today. Almost.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow as if seeing right through you and perfectly understanding the lack of conviction in your own words. A doubtful angel. Oh, this day could not get any better.

"Tell Us," they said, now pacing through their throne room. "What do We gain from helping you?"

The question startled you. What did the Devil gain from obeying God for once? Not another divine punishment, that's what.

"Excuse me?"

"We said, what do We gain from helping you with your task? We sure hope you did not come all the way to Our domain expecting a pretty smile to be sufficient to convince Us."

That… serpent. You clenched your jaw, resisting a sudden urge to speak from your heart while Lucifer kept on smirking devilishly.

Taking a deep breath, you chose to show yourself open to discussion instead. "What is it You wish for, Lightbringer?"

Lucifer pretended to think about it, gazing into the vastness of their realm, and then spoke firmly. "A single visit to the Silver City."

Your heart stopped. "And open the gates for You to terrorise us or attack the Creator? Absolutely not."

"Then forget about the chalice."

"The Morningstar may believe angels are foolish, naive creatures, but I assure You I'm not that stupid."

Your defiance intrigued Lucifer, who gauged you for a second. "No…" they eventually said. "Indeed. Which is why We are fairly certain you will know how to convince the Divine Council. Tell them We have no intentions of wreaking havoc in their home if that is what they are so worried about."

"Then why?" you asked somewhat harshly.

"You would not understand."

"Your Majesty, I–"

"There will be no need for further discussion, little angel. Either you manage to get Us what We want and We will do everything in Our power to help you, or the Cup of Eternal Grace remains in Hell. In which case, do not even bother coming back."

"They said what?"

"The Morningstar wishes to be able to visit the Silver City, Your Grace. Just once."

You were now standing in the bright room where the heavenly meeting that had got you sent to Hell had been held a few hours ago, alone in front of the five members of the Divine Council. You felt small, but not as small as you had felt in front of the ruler of Hell.

"Yes, we heard that part," Azrael replied rather angrily.

Somehow, their tone managed to make you feel as if you had already failed your mission, and it took a lot of self-persuasion to stand your ground. You were only repeating what you had been told, after all.

"They, uh…" You cleared your throat and tried again. "They said they had no intentions of attacking Heaven, and I think their words were genuine."

"Hello, this is Satan we're talking about," Gabriel said, exaggerating their diction as if you were mentally impaired.

"My sibling does not lie, Gabriel," Michael reminded him. The other Archangel sighed. "If you will excuse us, the Council needs to consider Lucifer's offer."

Taking the hint, you bowed and promptly left the room to find refuge in the closest chapel. Once there, you dropped to your knees for the Almighty and clasped your trembling hands so tight your knuckles turned white.

"Forgive me Father for I have sinned…"

You started repenting because you couldn't help but feel as if it would be your fault if Heaven ended up needing to make a deal with the Devil. You should have resisted and told Lucifer that they deserved their banishment from the Silver City and that never would they be welcome here again. You should have fought them if needed, though you would have been doomed –you would have died a martyr, and maybe for once your name would have mattered in Heaven. But you hadn't.

Deep down, you also prayed for the Council to give up on the Cup of Eternal Grace. Hell was a terrible place, and Lucifer a dangerous monster, your sworn enemy. You didn't want to go back to Hell. Not for a stupid goblet.

But as soon as you came out of the chapel, Gabriel was standing in front of you, his hands behind his back. As God's messenger, you knew he was here to pass on the Divine Council's decision.

"So. We have deliberated and we want you to carry on with the mission. You will go down to Hell every day, do whatever you need to do, and come back up every evening to report before compline until you find the Cup. Okay?"

You opened your mouth to answer but only managed a weak, strangled sound. Gabriel didn't give you enough time to speak anyway.

"Great!" he exclaimed as he slapped your shoulder. Then he pointed at the chapel. "Is this free?" Again, you tried to answer, but he was already gone.

Feeling an irrational anger rising inside, you decided you needed a break, some time alone spent in silence, not even in prayer. Angels, like other immortal beings, didn't need to sleep, but you wanted to forget about the world for a while. So you flew back to the Dominions' quarters to lay on your soft bed.

And there was evening, and there was morning –the first day.

[spacebarbarianweird]

Hi! Could you do HCs for Astarion with a Archfey Warlock!Tav. Since fey are well known for trickery and Astarion is known for trickery at times as well. Thank you :)

Archfeys are god-like Feys seen as deities by their worshippers. They are difficult to kill and often unpredictable. A warlock can form a pact with a Fey patron. The magic bestowed upon fey pact warlocks can be enchanting while retaining the savage lethality common to the Feywild. Warlocks who focused all their attention on dealing with fey spirits might have become one of the feytouched, half-mad spellcasters who slipped between the Feywild and the Prime Material Plane as they wished.

More info

There are many Arcwfeys to choose from (I recommend reading about them, they are insanely cool). I chose Nintra Siotta for the following headcanon - a chaotic evil entity. 

Astarion x Archfey Warlock! Tav

You never wanted to be a warlock.

But Feys don't ask, they take.

When you were thirteen, you almost died.

You were comatose for a year and when you woke you had a Fey pact.

You don't remember who made the pact with you. The archfey erased your memories.

You don't know the conditions. The rules.

The price.

Your powers are of a dark and wild nature.

You try not to use them but the Archfey dominates you and make you spell cast against your will.

Adding more and more to the pile of debt you already have.

You search for answers but you know you won't like them.

You are a puppet in the hands of someone evil and chaotic.

The tadpole gives you freedom. It blocks your connection with the Archfey. And you feel free from her never-sleeping eyes.

You know the fear Astarion has - to return to the master. To the master you don't know but whom you owe.

You promise Astarion to deal with Cazador because you hate when people are held against their will.

When you tell him your whole story, he also gives you a promise. He is a magistrate, after all.

He can look at the contract.

The problem is that you don't remember having it.

You don't want to make pacts with the devils and you fear the Emperor and whatever awaits you.

And you decide to contact your patron, to see who it is.

The misty hands drag you to another plane.

Here she is, the Princess of the Shadow Glass, powerful and hateful.

She hands you a list of every spell you've ever used.

With all the debts.

"You are mine, little warlock, and you will do as I say. I saved your pathetic life when you were a child and gave you powers of the Fey. Now, you pay me back by serving me and fighting for me. Your life, your sanity, it all belongs to me."

Finally you have a copy of the contract. The Fey glamour wanes, and you remember that you were forced to sign it to survive.

A scared little child who didn't know the price.

And you are going to get into into more debt.

"Help me defeat the Elder Brain."

Niitra agrees.

She gives you more powers. More dark spells. Agonizing blasts, domination, masks. All yours.

You are pushed back into the Prime and wake up in the streets of Baldur's Gate only to rush into the battle.

You win. You save everyone from their peril. The Emperor is destroyed so is the Brain.

Astarion runs away from the sun in pain and suffering, and when you find him, you promise to save him as well.

But you have your own chains. The Archfey calls upon you and makes you do cruel things.

Killing for her, striking fear.

Astarion reads your contract and doesn't find any loopholes. You will have to serve the Archfey till your days end.

You are doomed to lose your sanity, to be Feytouched.

Astarion promises he will be with you no matter what.

"Do you want more, my little warlock? Do you want to save him? I can make him mortal again, I can let him walk in the sun."

And you agree.

You wake up in some abandoned place without Astarion by your side.

You've spent seven years in Feywild. Another evil trick.

You don't know where to go and what to do. To search for Astarion? But where is he? Did the Archfey keep her promise?

Is he mortal? Can he walk in the sun?

Your sanity is slipping away.

You are Feytouched. A mad warlock.

Even if you meet Astarion, you won't recognize him.

And should Niitra order you, you will kill him on her demand.

The Prime, Feywild, interdimensional places - you go wherever she orders.

You try to grasp your sanity but it slips through your fingers.

How long has it been? A year? A decade? A millennium?

You don't know anymore.

Until one day you're awakened in chains.

A familiar man stands in front of you.

Silver curls, a tender look.

But he has the body warmth of a mortal and his eyes are the color of emeralds.

"Hello, my sweet, it's been a while," Astarion says. "Two centuries, to be precise."

The Archfey kept her promise and made him mortal. But you paid for it with two hundred years of slavery.

"I woke up mortal back then without you by my side. That bitch of yours told me I should go away because you are hers."

Astarion never gave up. He searched for you. Some even thought you were his archnemesis, as he was obsessed with finding you.

Unfortunately, you can't just walk away from the Feys. Nyitra has many enemies, including Titania.

Astarion made a deal with her. Now he is her warlock - and he used his newly found powers to kill the Princess of the Shadow Glass.

To save you. To return your sanity.

"Don't you worry, my sweet, I've made a very fair contract."

You return to the world with him. Free from your chains with him, a mortal elf by your side.

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96

[fantasyinvader]

I was thinking how Sothis seems to be more associated with water, flooding the world after the Agarthans destroyed it. Yet her Crest is known as the Crest of Flames. It kinda hit me that the Crests are named either after the saint that bestowed them upon the people of the Empire or, in the case of the Elites the name of the Elite who took the Crest. The Elites were allies of Nemesis, who had the Crest of Flames, who was a puppet of the Agarthans. The Agarthans were the ones who gave him the Crest, so what I'm thinking is that they in all likelihood gave it the name.

So thinking about this, the Agarthans were the one who set the world on fire before heading into their vault. They're the ones who gave Nemesis his Crest. They took the heart and blood of Sothis, who is tied to water, so that they could take power over the surface they long ago abandoned after they fucked it up, and used it to create a being with the Crest, which they called the Crest of Flames/Fire Emblem, to their puppet king. The Agarthans seemingly presented themselves as gods, tasking Nemesis with killing the "wicked" gods, and Nemesis then went onto persecute the people he conquered. And when they're defeated, they manipulate Edelgard into becoming their puppet, the Flame Emperor, in order to purge the surface.

There's also the fact that fusing with Sothis allows Byleth to access the Nirvana class and the powers associated with it, including making the SotC stronger. Nirvana is a spiritual state where the individual has extinguished the three flames from within themself, furthering her association with water. And as I've said in the past, Rhea seems to be more akin to an ICE dragon due to her abilities despite the setting of Flower's final battle or her power going nuts in SS.

It really seems to be that Flames are tied to the Agarthans, not Sothis. They took her power and were the ones who made it associated with Flames. It's a symbol of their theft from the Nabateans, calling back to the OG Fire Emblem, as well as their corrupting influence.

"BUT THE AGARTHANS WERE THE ORIGINAL INHABITANTS OF THE WORLD! SOTHIS STOLE IT FROM THEM!"

That's like saying the surface rightfully belongs to the vault dwellers in Fallout and the people living there should submit to them. Wild Arms 5 did this plot, with the aliens that conquered humanity a century prior being humans who left thousands of years ago after wrecking the environment. They were gone so long the planet, the actual planet, didn't recognize them as it's people anymore and they needed to create stuff in order to do so rather than the planet trying to kill them like they were a disease. They weren't entitled to the planet, and the game is about coexistence.

They fucked up the world, they left it while Sothis fixed it. And now they want it to burn again so they can take it over. Fuck them.

[rose-colored-tarot]

What is the latest belief or thing you added to your faith?

Faith specifically? That godhood is a title bestowed or earned, not an intrinsic aspect of an entity. This is a slight expansion of Stag's "spirits in silly hats" theory.

So last year I started my journey, maybe not on the crooked path, but next to it? within eyeline of it? Idk, I started seeking out The Witchfather. And things went really well, we have a good relationship going, I've expanded my craft significantly in just the 6 months since I made my pact (that sounds WAY more serious than it is, right now I have a year and a day deal going with him, we will reassess on my birthday). I also went into this relationship relatively blind to literature and prevailing ideas surrounding him. I wanted to get to know each other before I started researching him in depth.

As the weeks and months passed, I started to realize he was rather limited in power relative to what I thought a god should be able to do. Most of what we did together was tied to the forest behind my house, and his ability to act outside of my property was minimal. I have since come to the conclusion he is the spirit of that forest, not The Witchfather (capital T capital W, big daddy God [which I'm sure is a cultural Christian expectation anyway]) that I thought he was. He was simply MY witchfather. He only became a deity because I decided he was one, and from what I can tell, he does not give two shits if he is considered a god or not. He simply is a Guy who answered when I called out. I am the one who put that crown on his head, and he wears it indifferently.

So I think a lot of what makes godhood is how we as people/worshippers/whatever you wanna call us treat the entities concerned. Aphrodite is not the goddess of love, sex and beauty because of any inherent quality she possesses, the ancients just gave her that domain and she ran with it (and she's doing a wonderful job as far as I'm concerned).

This whole change in philosophy was super freeing with regard to my idea of faith and devotion. It takes the pressure off of my ideas of divinity. It is easier to approach someone when you think of them as "just some guy with a fancy title" god instead of "behold my radiance, look upon me and weep" god.

Thanks for the ask! It was nice to actually write this all out and get it to be coherent.

[thrashkink-coven]

Ritual Report 2024-07-30

I had the opportunity to meditate on Attar Lucifer for the first time this morning and witness his energy in it’s more warlike, rebel archetype. The ritual took place in the bath, I first lit my candles and smoke cleansed the room with dragon's blood incense. I then drew Lucifer's sigil on the wall of my shower with ink. I then said the Invocation aloud 3 times.

Invocation of Attar Lucifer:

“Attar Lucifer, radiant and bright I, Shi, call to thee

I invoke your presence here this morning

I invite you to attend my vessel

Father of rebels, Lord of the Underworld

God of love, of sex and pride

Attend my sacred space,

Illuminate it with your light

Attar Lucifer, I call to thee once more

Bestow your blessing of love upon me,

help me to feel your presence,

and heal my wounds,

I invoke your presence here and now.

As my magic is made

Be here in this, your temple!

For your loyal devotee stands before you,

ready and willing to honour you

Oh, great God, be near me now

Illuminate this space, for it is ours

So Blessed Be

So it is Done.”

While mediating I listened to Lucifer's infernal enn in a video which repeats his enn 81 times. I listened to this 2 or 3 times before switching to a song called Ashtar by Horizons Interrieurs before finally switching to Lucifer's enn by Carl Sparticus, I believe I listened tp this 6 times, I fell into trance while listening to it.

When I found myself on the other side, I was in a very dark and smoky place. I did not know where I was exactly, but I knew that the place I was in was very ancient, very dangerous, and very primal. Perhaps a time when humanity was only just starting to establish itself. I never felt like I was truly in danger, as I was wearing my Venus talisman and knew I was protected. But I still felt very much like prey being stocked by an unknown predator. I was vulnerable, ignorant and exposed. I felt as though, at any moment I could be killed. I felt as though I needed to hide, and found myself crouching low to the ground to avoid being noticed. Death and Disease were King in this place. I immediately understood that the world that Attar Lucifer was a part of was very old and very different, with different laws and different authorities, a world almost unrecognizable from the world I live in now. I understood that Attar is very old and has been doing this for a very long time.

In the darkness and smoke I could hear a whistle. It began to get louder as if the person blowing it was approaching me. Soon I saw lights emerging from the darkness. One light brighter than the others, emerged as the leader. He dawned a red flag and a torch, and lead a collective of spirits through the darkness atop a golden chariot. His eyes, red and bold like flames, burned into me intensely, though never offensively. It was immediately clear to me that this is a face of Lucifer that is often kept hidden from me.

Lucifer's energy usually feels very airy and smooth to me, like a nice chocolate cake, but today it was smoldering, very hot and firey. Rather than the light of a twinkling star, he felt like the light of a blazing forest fire bellowing in the wind. He was stern and authoritative, his power could not be unnoticed. and he was beautiful in the way triumph and victory feel, but it was also clear to me that he himself was dissatisfied.

When he looked down at me kneeling close to the ground, he gave me a look of distaste, like the image of me doing so offended him, and then he ordered his comrades to pick me up and place me in the chariot beside him. From atop the chariot and with his light illuminating everything around us, I could see the carnage, disease, death and murder that ruled this place. The collective of spirits being commanded by Attar Lucifer would hunt through the darkness to find his wandering children and unite them with Attar. I was one of these children.

As we continued through the darkness I began to woe, mourning the displays of death and violence, and that was when Attar's look softened. He said something to me like "upsetting, isn't it?" his voice sounded similar to the Lucifer I am familiar with, but deeper and heavily accented in a dialect I am unfamiliar with.

When I looked back at him I could immediately understand that he shared my remorse. Attar Lucifer is a true pacifist at his core. He cannot stand to see the unchecked destructive power of tyranny, but he does not revel in battle or violence. His spirits bore no weapons, only light. He continues to liberate the weak despite his displeasure in facing true evil and ignorance. Yet he cannot stop, he mustn't, for he is the light bringer. Without him, there would be no illumination in this darkness. The darkness of the subconscious, of hidden prejudice, of unfamiliar conflict.

I began to cry as it dawned upon me how cruel this world is despite all the best efforts, and that was when he took me into what looked like a castle made of obsidian, and dismissed his spirts to leave us alone with each other.

He asked me, "why do you weep?" and I responded shakily through tears, saying something like "I'm sorry you have to keep doing this, I'm sorry this world is so fucked, I'm sorry I can't change the world".

His look changed, it returned to its intensity, and he grabbed my head in both of his hands and said "You can change the world, you will change the world. I don't ever want to hear you say that again."

and I asked him how someone like me, with no power, could possibly change the world if even he can't. He became more determined, saying "Because you are mine, because the spirit of my love burns inside you. All you need is to nurture it, keep fighting and fostering it, fanning it with air until it blooms and blazes like the greatest fires in Heaven."

In his eyes I could see 100 thousand years of struggle, but never defeat. and then he finally sat down with his arms crossed and asked, "do you know why I refused to become the God of the Most High when I rose to the glory of the Highest Heaven? For I was never exiled, no it was I who made this decision, do you know why?"

I told him no, and he answered "because the past is perfect."

"The past is perfect" is a phrase I learned from Lord Leviathan. It speaks to the nature of time and divine authority. Essentially, it is the hard to stomach lesson that says that all the events of the past were necessary to achieve the present, divinely written. All the bad, all the good, it is perfect. Regardless of how ugly, these things were necessary, mandatory, to form the existence of everything that came after it. The man of the past is perfect in accordance to the rules of the past. The past belongs to the dead, it is no place for the living, and it is perfect.

Attar then told me, in order to be the God of the most high one must be satisfied with this reality. They must be willing to accept that the natural flow of the universe is violent and cruel but also merciful and perfect. He had to be willing to be the God that knows all and allows all to be, and he simply could not. In order to liberate we must accept that there was once a time of oppression. In order to be the God of the most high, he would have to accept being the God responsible for all the things he fights against, and he could not be the darkness, for he is the light. The past is cruel, but it is perfect; and in its perfection it is complete, finished. Attar Lucifer never claimed to be perfect.

"The light of Venus is brilliant, but it will never be enough to illuminate the entire sky, to bring the light and life of day. Not alone, for its light is only a reflection of the light of the Sun. I accepted that my role was not to be the God of the Highest because I accept that I do not know everything, and I don't need to. This does not make my efforts meaningless. I may not shine brighter than the Sun during the day, but when in times of darkness, when he cannot be found, when he cannot save us, oh, how I shine!"

If he were to illuminate all the Heavens and make everything in his image, there would be no more work to be done, and he would not have the pleasure of being the light in a world of darkness. Helel cannot change every mind, but oh, how he shines.

Attar explained to me that darkness will always be faster than light, that is why the job of the Illuminator is never finished. As we increase our knowledge, the light of our understanding, the circumference of darkness around us only continues to grow. The more we know, the more we know how much we do not know. The more we learn, the more we learn how much there is to learn. Attar Lucifer knows that the pursuit of knowledge is never ending, the rising and falling must always happen. We must be willing to change our minds. We must be willing to burn, to be wrong, to be ignorant, before we can be liberated and purified.

"My people, my comrades, my devotees, they occupy the land of the dead and the land of the living, and I cannot bare part with them, for my love defies all boundaries. Love exists everywhere, there is no place above or below that I will not touch. I refuse. Whether I must be the God of the Underworld or the star who falls in the morning, whether I must die and be reborn 10 thousands times more, I will be free in whichever world I occupy. I will provide light for those who have given their hearts to me. This is my promise. I cannot promise that oppression will forever be defeated. I cannot promise the end of all suffering. But my promise, which I have always kept, is to bring light in times of darkness. To bring the conflict which changes minds and guides through ignorance. I am the Light Bringer."

I saw Attar as a phoenix, dying and rising from the ashes in an eternal cycle. Learning, rising, changing minds and burning away all that does not serve us. It is only then that I saw my Lucifer, the Lucifer I’m familiar, within him. When he looked at me I could see him. He smiled at the Venus star on my chest. When we embraced I knew it was him.

[alice-angel12x]

Death is always around the Corner

Idia + Death!Reader+ Ö̵̗̭͙̠͍̙̬̦̬̺͙̻̻̰̮́͌̈́͑̅̉̉͆̄̓̉̒͝͝ͅř̵̡̨̡̞̦̩̰͖͚͕͙́̑̎̆̏̐͂̀́͒̿͆̆̆̀̿̐̀͂͊̀͑́̅̈́̚t̴̛̛͖͚͑̽͑̓͋̒̈̈́̀̔́̌͒̆͘͝͠ẖ̵͚̦̫̫̻͔̤͚̺̬̗̥͇̾̈͐̎̿̊̋̄̉͑̅͑̊̊̍́̿̚ͅơ̵̛̹̯̤̟̔̍̋͗͗̾͆̒̏̋̉͐͛̿͆̇̈͆̈́̈́̔͝͠

Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, Vil, Iida, Malleus

Masterlist

Let's set the scene:

So it was finally that time again, I will not let you get in the way of my work Shroud. The shroud company, through blessing or curse from Hades. Made it very difficult to find the Isle of woe to be by mortals, or Death itself. Memories from times of old began to resurface.

" Look at this cute little pie. We would like to thank you all for the gifts on behalf of our son," Zeus smiled. " Oh, so precious. How absolutely heart-warming. I haven’t felt this choked up since I got some moussaka stuck in my throat," Hades said, trying to make a joke. "Don’t look so glum, chum. Come and join the celebrations!" Zeus invited. " I’d love to, but unfortunately, I can’t leave my post thanks to the work you graciously “bestowed” upon me. Love to stay, but sadly can’t!" Hades said as he backed away. "Come now, you’ll work yourself to death!NGet it? To death! I could kill myself laughing!" Zeus laughed as the rest of the party joined him. " Ugh, if only…!" Hades scoffed to himself.

As Hades returned to the underworld, his two minions Pain and Panic came running with news.

"BOSS! BOSS!" Panic cried out.

"What! What is it!? I am Not in the mood," Hades scowled.

"T-T-The Boss! The Big Boss is back!" the two screamed.

"After all this time, this could be a great opportunity," Hades smirked.

The God quickly made his way to a simply room that belonged to the one and only, Death. The room was simple, it had one throne that was placed by the window. That over looked the river of Souls.

"Hey, Death! The Big Boss, Head honcho, Top dog! How've yeah been?" Hades greeted his long time boss and friend. "How was the travel, travel good brought souvenir?"

"Hmm, oh. Hello Hades," Death greeted, snapped out of their thoughts. "You needed something?"

"So I have plans for Mayhem, your favorite," Hades smirked as he went on to explain his plans.

But he noticed that something was different about his underworld friend. The bloodthirst chaos loving friend was not present, instead this sad and mellow person sat before him.

"Um Who are you and you know what happened to Death?" Hades asked.

"Just a new perspective I guess. As for your plan. If that's what you really want I won't stop you, though I'm afraid I will not join you," Death said calmly.

"Okay, no seriously what happened to you. What happened to the King/Queen of terror and dread?" Hades asked.

"I guess like you I'm also tired of ruling the dead and this place," Death sighed as they looked back at the underworld.

__________________

Death would be confided Hades. The only other high being that would associate with them. Even if they were never Hade's first choice.

But Death told Hades about the many changes to come. Like how they plan to eventually get rid of the underworld. Their symbol and trophy to rub into Life's face of their power over said, god.

Hades did not like this much. But he was confident he would take over Olympus before that would happen. But of course, things didn't go that way.

So as not to lose anything else, using the last of his power to hide the remaining piece of the underworld and a few mortal followers. Becoming the Isle of woe.

__________________

Y/n knew that this next series of events might be the only chance to find this isle of Woe. At least for a long time.

So in the middle of the night, Y/n woke Jamil and asked for his assistance.

Y/n informed Jamil what was about to go down in the morning. So they gave Jamil an enchanted necklace to hide him in plain sight. While they took on his form and be captured in his stead.

Jamil agreed to this since he doesn't like the thought of being dragged off to possibly be never seen again.

________________

~~SNAP! SNAP! CRACK! SNAP!!~~

" What are those!? They’re all flying in the sky with their– Wait, are those hoverboards!?"Kalim gasped.

"What in the world…!? Unless there are events, the school is supposed to be protected with a magical ward to keep intruders away," Vil said in a slightly nervous tone.

"No, the Barrior is breaking," 'Jamil' said.

"They’re heading this way. One, two… Incoming! Take cover, everyone!" Rook said to everyone.

"Jamil" quickly raised a shield to protect everyone from the debris and robots falling from a ceiling.

"Are you alright, Y/n?" Deuce asked as he helped "y/n" stand up.

"This is the Hepta Unit. We have visuals on Subjects D and E. Beginning Detainment Maneuvers," The bots said.

" I do not know who you are, but it is absolutely impolite to be barging in through windows! I will acknowledge this as an emergency! On my authority as the Pomefiore Prefect, you are all given permission to use magic against these intruders!" Vil said.

"Wait! Vil, I need you to think carefully," 'Jamil' said quickly. " We are outnumbered, and most of the students here are rookie wizards. You Rook, and maybe myself can last a while, but the first years."

Vil scowled as he realized Jamil's assessment was right, and they would risk a lot if they fight.

"Then what do you recommend we do?" Vil glared but gasped as he watched Jamil raise his arms and surrendered.

" What!?" Everyone gasped.

" They are only after us. If we don't resist no one will get hurt," Jamil said simply, Vil sighed in frustration as he slowly raised his hands.

_______________________________________

As the fiery robotic men loaded the overblot boys into the airship, "Jamil" gave one final look back to the school. Only to see the VDC group running in the distance, trying to reach them in time.

"Jamil" smiled warmly as the airship door began to close. My heart warmed that mortals were trying to save them-... No, save Jamil.

But It was a long Flight, and the most "Jamil" could do was let Riddle rest on their lap. When the boy woke up, he was a bit startled. But "Jamil" Was quick to comfort the boy.

But Azul quickly pointed out that "Jamil" was acting strange. So Y/n decided to let them in on the plan a bit.

So "Jamil " explained how the Isle of Woe is the only place in the world that is hidden from the eyes of Death. It is also the place where many blot monsters are stored.

The boys asked why death would care so much about Blot monsters. With "Jamil" would explain that when a person overblots, for a time they will be joined by a blot phantom.

But eventually, the phantom will consume the victim and store the person's soul deep within it. Leaving the soul in perpetual torment, till the Phantom is destroyed.

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

"And you know this how?" Leona glared.

"Cause they told me. So in my plans to get into better standing and redemption. I am willingly being their eyes, and beckon for them to track down," Jamil smirked.

"So that's why you didn't want to fight, Y/n wanted this to happen," Vil sighed in annoyance.

"They also wanted no one to get hurt," Jamil snapped back.

"So how long must we wait for Y/n to rescue us?" Azul asked nervesly.

"Only Time will decide," Jamil said.

"Umm don't you mean 'Only time can tell' ?" Riddle asked.

"No," Jamil said simply.

"So these robots are from the Isle of Woe?" Vil asked.

"They’re S.T.Y.X’s special security unit, Charon. It’s their job to capture magicians who have Overblotted so they could be transported to the Island of Woe," Leona explained, then smirked. " But the fact that not even Y/n can find this place must be a blow to their ego. Score one for mortals."

"I think you mean score one for Hades," Jamil said as he went on to explain the story of Hades, Death, and the Underworld.

Apparently, the story was so Gripping and engaging, the 4-hour flight was over in a flash. They have arrived on the Isle of Woe, with Idia there to greet them. But as soon as Jamil stepped off the airship a wave of cries and howls filled their ears, the sounds that went unheard by everyone else.

"̶w̷҉̧h͘͟y͜͝͏ h͘a͏̵v͢e̸ ̡̀͝y̡o͏u̵͠ ̛̀f̷̨͢o͜r̴̕͜s̷̢a̧͝͏k̷͠en͏̷ ͟u̧̨s̕͡,̡ ͡d͢ea̢͠͡th͟

"̴̕P̸͞l̸͝e̷͡a͝s̵͘ȩ̷,̷͢ ͟w̸̡h̸͡ȩ͏r̵e̛ ̵͝a̶̡re̷͟͞ ̸̡y̸͜o̴u̷͝ ́͞D̵̛͠e͏̀a̴t̢́̀h̷͟?̴͘͠!̡͟"͢

"̡̀͘S͘om̛̀e̸͘o͘n̶̨͜e ͘͟Pl̵e̸̶a̧ś̷̶e ̕͟͜S͢҉a͞v̸e͞ ͏̷M̷͢͝é͢͝!̢͢!̨̕"҉

The voices cried out, it was so overwhelming Y/n almost dropped their disguise. But they composed themselves and held back their tears.

As Idia put the boys through many tests, he noticed something strange about Jamil's vitals. That he didn't have any vitals or basic signs of life. Before Idia could pull Jamil aside for questioning, he was locked in the meeting room with the rest of the NRC boys.

________________________________

Idia began to question Jamil, but he didn't really answer any of the questions. Till ortho pointed out that Jamil had no body heat. So seeing no need to hide, they dropped the illusion.

Revealing Death.

Idia began to panic as he quickly stood, but before calling for hade's level to shut down. His calling device suddenly shut down from low power, and the same with some of Ortho's functions.

Y/n sat down confidently as Idia trembled in his boots, and the others sat in awe and confusion. Vil was just frustrated that he was tricked so easily.

"Y-you can't be here! The Isle of Woe is supposed to be hidden from you?!" Idia panicked.

"You can only hide from death for so long," Y/n said simply as they rested their elbows on the table.

"W-why are you here?" Idia asked slowly.

"I'm here to collect all the souls in Tartarus," Y/n said simply.

"This isn't the underworld, there are no souls to collect," Idia glared.

"That is untrue. Phantoms hold the souls of their victims and those it slaughters. I am here to collect them," Y/n said.

"but that would mean you will destroy the phantoms. But we need them to study and find a way to stop blot," Idia reasoned.

"Those 10,000 and more souls have been suffering for thousands of years. I think it's time to give them an out," Y/n replied as they stood up.

"Demands here, demands there… This isn’t a zoo, damn it. Did you forget what I said earlier? Don’t make me repeat myself again… I!!! AM!!! THE!!! BOSS!!!" Idia shouted as stood in front of Y/n, blocking their path.

"HAHAHAHAHA!!" Y/n laughed, so much so that they had to lean against the table to support themselves. "You almost remind me of Hades. But no Your not my boss, and are you okay with keeping Ortho the first in Tartarus, to suffer till the end of time? You made a machine of him, so why not let the real one go?"

Idia froze as Y/n bore into his soul when suddenly the power went out as the room went dark.

______________________________________________

Things just did not get better, as Y/n learned that Rook and Epel had tracked them down. And the blot phantoms had felt the presence of their doom. So in one last desperate attempt, they manipulated the bot Ortho. To Get Idia down to them.

With this, the isle of woe went into Chaos. The NRC boys went to go collect the thunder staff, but thanks to Y/n there were little to no phantoms standing in their way.

Y/n, in a blink of an eye, was making quick work of the phantom. Ortho was not happy about the lack of challenge to the NRC boys.

But eventually, The boy manages to push the final phantom back to Tartarus. The phantom using Ortho's voice cried out to Idia.

Idia jumped to follow his "brother" to Tartarus, but Y/n in one clean motion slayed the phantom.

______________________________________________

As Idia's memories and regrets flashed in his mind, he slowly opened his eyes to find himself in the void. As he sat up, he heard a familiar voice in the distance, he turned to See Ortho. He was sitting on death's lap as the two were talking when Ortho noticed Idia. Death helped ortho to his feet as Ortho ran to Idia and hugged him tightly.

"Thank you for looking out for me. You’ve made me so happy. But, you can’t be here yet, Big Brother," Ortho said.

"Ortho… Why? I want to go with you. We made a promise, didn’t we? And You," Idia turned to Death. " Why did you save me, I just wanted to follow Ortho."

"Because Ortho and I believe it's not your time yet," Y/n answered.

"You still have comics to read, concerts to watch, and new games to play, don’t you…? You love this world too much to give up on it completely," Ortho added.

"What!? Who said I loved this rotten world!? All that nonsense can just disappear!" Idia said as he began to tremble.

"Not everything has to make sense. You shouldn’t have to give up on anything ever again. You have your future ahead of you, Big Brother.  You see, I want you to fulfill the dreams we talked about that day," Ortho smiled.

"Our Dream?" Idia asked.

"I’m sure it will take a long time. You might feel like giving up along the way, but… I know… I’m sure you can go anywhere, Brother. It may be long and tiring, but you’ll get there someday. It’s okay. I’ll be right there with you always. Please, don’t give up," Ortho said as he gave one last squeeze of a hug. He slowly let go of Idia and turned to Death. "Okay, I'm ready to go now."

"Wait, Ortho! Death Please Don't Take Him?!" Idia begged as he watched Ortho grab Y/n's hand.

"Actually I have something special for you, and I want Idia to be there. But he needs to wake up first," Y/n explained.

"Really, I can't wait. Hurry and wake up big brother," Ortho said.

________________________________________

When Idia came to, standing over him was Y/n and some old man. Who was actually Vil? Idia shyly apologized to everyone and said he would probably never return to school.

But Grim and everyone else was not going to let him off easy, telling him to fix ramshackle at least. But the group was spooked to see the ghost of ortho next to Y/n.

"Well before you do anything else I will need you to come with me Idia," Y/n said as ortho grabbed their hand.

"H-huh W-why?" Idia asked.

"To accompany ortho and me when we go to see someone important. And I think Vil will need to come too," Y/n sighed.

"Why am I needed?" old man vil asked.

"To help with your situation," Y/n said. "And the rest of you are free to go back to the school, we will catch up."

"W-wait where are you going?" Epel asked.

"And where is this important person?" Riddle asked.

"In the void between dimensions and the worlds," Y/n answered simply.

"Who could you possibly be taking them to?" Azul asked.

"Life," Y/n smiled

______________________________________________

To be continued...

[sunnys-aesthetic]

Cotl lore rambles below!

Cutting it straight to the point,

This entire post will have spoilers regarding cult of the lamb and the newest dlc The Pilgrim Pack!

you have been warned!

Mind you this probably won't be choesive at all its straight up just notes and theories of mine that ran through my head as i read the comic!!

HHOOKAY. SO THERES A LOT I WANTED TO RAMBLE ON ABOUT BU T LETS START AT THE BEGINNING.

in the bg we can see a huge plume of White smoke. This means a fire was obviously involved, and from the size of it, this HAD to be a ship with multiple other people, because you cant sail a ship that big with just one person. It also made me think about the most recent trailer with the sea freezing over! Was whatever caused *that* the cause of this too? or are they two separate situations?

though it definitely brings the question of why jalala, the unknown people on the boat, and her brother, to have come from such a long way, to a cult infested island?(that apparently outsiders don't know had cults IN it)

2. There being cults is apparently, not normal. (Who woulda thought) but jokes aside, despite the game giving us the norm of there being a cult for every little thing, It was to a point where jalala didn't even know WHO the old faith/Bishops were. And it makes me wonder just how disconnected this island is from other possible ones??

Even Rinor herself probably doesn't know WHY there's cults just that there IS, like its a normal way of life that she's used to, and that's honestly reasonable considering she's mortal and wouldn't know the intricate history about the bishops upbringing or why there's literal gods roaming around that place. Mind you, this comic takes place before you kill leshy!

-

Now, lets rewind time wwwway back, and im talking probably before even the bishops were born, new, or still mortals, its still unconfirmed and up to interpretation! But anywho,

THIS scene, started making the gears in my head turn. What the FUCK is going on in this game and its history and lore, and i mean this in the bEST WAY POSSIBLE. This is a sneak peek into Chemach's history before she lost her mind and became what you would call a 'false god' (just obviously not to her face.) This i was NOT expecting because we haven't seen anything this big depicted until *now*. Who oR WHAT is this.

(SEMI UNRELATED BUT IT TRULY MAKES ME THINK IF THE MYSTIC SELLER IS OF THIS SIZE, BUT DEPICTS HIMSELF AS 'SMALLER' BEHIND THE DOOR.) <insane little headcanon/theory that struck me upon reading.

all of that aside, we get a little preview of what chemach looked like!! She very much picked off of the dying gods to a point of no return and i'm so interested if they will say more on her story. I didnt know this beforehand but apparently the three were made and born for bestowing godly power and never to use it, seeing chemach give in to whatever mindset was eating at her was so :(

Kudaii:

Chemach:

Clauneck:

But I LOVE that we got a preview into the world She, and her two brothers kudaii and Clauneck were born into.

-

also last thing i just want to mention is how much i love this guys design i did not fucking know he was this big. hello. what. hello. h-

anyways thanks for coming to my ted talk

[thedarkdisgrace]

Here is my thread from twitter i wrote about my theory about Fyodor’s ability not working on ability users. I wanted to get this posted here before we learn even more about it than in the next chapter probably lol I’m probably wrong given how old Fyodor is there’s probably plenty we don’t know and haven’t seen yet. But I still think this is interesting to talk about :) (Also I had more images to add but I will have to wait till i have access to my PC to add more cause the mobile app won’t let me)

—

So what if Fyodor can’t use his ability on ability users? We haven’t really seen him use it on other gifted, we’ve seen him shoot/manipulate gifted but not use Crime & Punishment on them.

People he did use it on were normal people and the people who have touched him & lived are all ability users.

—

If Fyodor has used C&P on an ability user, please let me know but I can’t find a particular instance he does.

Either way, his ability is probably something he either is consciously controlling or the ability itself is selective in some way with normal people because this kid touches him with a cloth.

—

Meanwhile this agent has gloves on but Fyodor still kills him with C&P. So, clothes/cloth isn’t the difference on its own.

Like i said, it’s gotta either be he *does* have control in some capacity or Crime & Punishment is selective on its own, regardless if it affects gifted or not.

But even if it is selective or controlled why never use it on the gifted?

The people he claims to want gone the most? It would also make sense why he really wants the book to write ability users out of the world. If his ability doesn’t work on them, maybe that’s why he see them as sinners.

If Fyodor has an ability he believes is a blessing or something that’s “holy”, something bestowed upon him by god then him believing ability users are sin/sinners because that “holy” ability doesn’t work on them could make sense. It’s why he wants the book to completely erase them.

But also, a different extension of this is maybe Fyodor views the book as holy because of its power. Maybe someone say, stole the book to create ability users. Fyodor would want to correct that “sin”. And maybe his ability doesn’t work on anything made by the book, thus why it doesn’t work on ability users.

But that aside, either explanation could also explain Fyodor’s fascination with Dazai (aside with his intellect), Dazai’s a walking contradiction.

The ability user who cannot be unaffected by abilities. Fyodor may even see it as Dazai can’t be touched by their “sin” and maybe is tied to the book in some way. Of course such a thing would grab his attention.

It could also explain Fyodor’s reverence for Sigma, a being created by the book. He seems to hold the book in high regard & even Ranpo himself says the book was created by smth “greater”.

If Fyodor sees the book as a tool from god, he would think highly Sigma being born from it. Similar in the way he may view Dazai

I don’t believe Fyodor did anything to Sigma. (Addition to this repost: I still believe this. I still think it’s just information overload. That’s why he’s not waking up with skk. We were told about this for a reason and given Fyodor is old af it makes sense he as SO MUCH information to go through)

As Ango explained, you can pass out from too much information & Atsushi passed out from a small amount.

Sigma requested to know *everything*. I think Fyodor knew what he knows would fry Sigma’s brain. That said, I think Sigma will wake up.

(Again, addition to this repost: now that we know it’s like hundreds of years of information of course that would be hard for his brian to process)

(I will add to this next bit because we have more information from chapter 113.)

Whatever Sigma learned, he knew he had to tell the agency right away. He obviously knows more than just how Fyodor’s ability works but i’m sure he thinks the agency needs to know something *specific* he learned about Fyodor and/or his plans & ability.

(Addition: It’s interesting Sigma said this given he’s only *just now* going through Fyodor’s memories and seeing how old actually Fyodor is. I wonder if that is what he wants to tell them or if it’s *how* Fyodor is so old that he feels must be shared with the agency. I feel it’s definitely Sigma wants to tell them that he knows *how* Fyodor is that old. As he says “I know *what* Dostoyevsky really is. Not who, *what* he is. Interesting.)

—

Back to the main point, assuming his ability wasn’t used on Sigma (it wasn’t), Fyodor hasn’t used his ability to kill ability users.

He shot Dazai’s accomplice, he “shot” Katai as well. He manipulated Ace into killing himself. He wanted these people dead, why not use his ability?

Chuuya & Nikolai touched him without anything happening. Of course like I said, Fyodor can either control his ability or it’s selective on its own. So he could’ve chosen *not* to use it on Chuuya & Nikolai or for some reason his ability just didn’t care about them.

But still, why hasn’t he used it on other gifted? Like the first 3 i listed, he wanted dead right? He also choses to manipulate gifted like Mushitaro or mutilates them like Ivan & we’re not sure if he touched them or not. If he himself did the surgery on Ivan he had to have touched him.

Even with Shibusawa, Fyodor cuts his throat. He doesn’t try to use crime & punishment. Of course, Shibusawa was “dead” already so it could be a different case.

He also never went up against Natsume directly in untold origins, although in the novel Fyodor is only eluded to and we never see. But maybe Natsume is “that man” Fyodor refers to. (Though now it could be Bram given 113?).

You could also throw in Fyodor stabbing Mori instead of using his ability on him in there. But in this case Fyodor’s objective was to pit the ADA & PM against each other so they would take each other out. Though there’s an argument he still could have done that & kill Mori here.

But let’s just assume he didn’t want Mori dead because of his plan to pit the two organizations against each other. So, I won’t touch more on Mori other than he must’ve touched Mori when he stabbed him, but since Fyodor seems to have some control over C&P let’s also say he just didn’t activate it here.

No one knows how Fyodor’s ability works aside Fyodor himself (Sigma might know now, we’ll probably know in a chapter coming up).

Even Dazai, which is why Dazai hasn’t wanted to give him the opportunity to touch him. He’s see what we have, people touching him & dying. So until Dazai knows for sure how his ability works, why risk touching him.

That’s why Dazai was hoping Sigma would help (assuming we believe Dazai when he says he doesn’t know how Fyodor’s ability works).

Sigma should now know both Fyodor’s plans & his ability & i’m sure he’s going to wake up and tell skk. Then Dazai will know.

But what if Fyodor was secretive about his ability because it doesn’t actually work against gifted? He wants ability users gone & it only benefits him for people to believe he can kill anyone with a touch. So why wouldn’t he play into that assumption?

We also haven’t seen too much of his interaction with other DOA members (Addition: aside we now know Fyodor and Bram go way back and Bram may even know more about Fyodor's ability, but he might not). We've only seen Nikolai & Sigma & we only see Sigma touch him once, to get information & Nikolai holding his hands. Nikolai admitted he doesn’t know about Fyodor’s ability either, hence saving Sigma to help.

I believe Fyodor would want to use his ability on gifted if he could, like Ace or Katai etc. People he knew he wanted dead and wouldn’t serve another purpose. But he doesn’t seem to use it. (Again if we have seen him somewhere use it on an ability user please let me know). But since he doesn’t seem to use it on gifted, maybe he just *can’t*.

He could just be choosing not to for all those instances for one reason or another & it does work on gifted and we just haven’t seen it yet. We just don’t really know but I’m sure we will soon.

This is just a fun theory, one that will probably be proven wrong to be honest haha so take it as you will. Everyone has their own interpretations and we will find out in canon soon enough.

[storiesofmyhead]

Gojo Satoru

Summary: Gojo Satoru x Sukuna's immortal sister, Yume.

Warnings: Sad, fluff, death

In a world where curses and jujutsu sorcery intertwined with the fabric of existence, power often meant everything. Gojo Satoru, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, had always lived at the pinnacle of this power, unmatched and unrivaled. However, there was one story that even he had never heard, a tale hidden deep within the annals of history, buried by time and forgotten by all except the few who dared remember. It was the story of Sukuna’s immortal sister.

Her name was Yume, and she had been a legend long before Sukuna's reign of terror. Unlike her brother, who was feared for his unmatched cruelty and strength, Yume was known for her grace, wisdom, and the terrifying power she held within. Her immortality wasn’t a gift but a curse, one bestowed upon her by the gods themselves as punishment for defying the natural order. She was ageless, bound to wander the world forever, watching as empires rose and fell, as the world changed, while she remained the same.

Yume had no desire for power, no craving for dominance like her brother. She sought peace, a way to end her eternal suffering, but she found none. Her presence was enough to twist reality, to make curses stronger, to bend the rules of life and death. This made her a target, a coveted prize for those who sought to use her for their own ends. But Yume was elusive, vanishing into the shadows of time, always a step ahead of those who pursued her.

It was in one of these fleeting moments, during the dawn of a new era of sorcery, that she encountered Gojo Satoru.

Gojo had always been curious about the legends that surrounded Sukuna. The more he learned about the King of Curses, the more intrigued he became by the stories of Sukuna’s sister. Most dismissed her as a myth, a ghost of the past, but Gojo knew better than to underestimate the power of legend. He could feel the weight of her existence in the world, a presence that defied the logic of sorcery.

His search for her led him to the ruins of an ancient temple, hidden deep within a forest that seemed to exist outside of time. The air was thick with an unnatural energy, a sensation that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Gojo pushed forward, his six eyes piercing through the veils of reality, until he reached the heart of the temple.

There, standing amidst the crumbling remains of what was once a grand sanctuary, was Yume. Her presence was ethereal, almost otherworldly, with long, flowing hair that seemed to shimmer with the light of a thousand stars. Her eyes, deep and endless, held a sorrow that had been etched into her soul over centuries.

“You’re not like the others,” she said, her voice soft, yet it carried the weight of her immortality.

Gojo smiled, his trademark arrogance showing. “I’ve been told I’m one of a kind.”

Yume regarded him with a mixture of curiosity and weariness. “Why do you seek me, Gojo Satoru? Do you not know that those who find me often regret it?”

“I’m not like most people,” Gojo replied, stepping closer. “I’m here because I want to know the truth. I want to know who you really are, why you’ve been hidden away for so long.”

Yume’s gaze softened, and for a moment, she seemed almost human. “The truth… it’s a heavy burden, one that has crushed many before you. Are you sure you wish to carry it?”

Gojo’s expression grew serious. “I’ve carried heavier burdens.”

Yume sighed, a sound filled with centuries of pain. “Very well. I will tell you my story.”

And so, under the twilight sky, Yume began to unravel the tale of her cursed existence. She spoke of her brother, Sukuna, and the horrors he had unleashed upon the world. She told Gojo of her own power, a force that could rival even Sukuna’s, but one that she refused to use for fear of becoming like him. She explained how she had been hunted by sorcerers, how they had tried to use her immortality to achieve their own twisted goals, and how she had fled from them, seeking only to live in peace.

Gojo listened intently, his usual bravado tempered by the gravity of her words. He realized that Yume was not just a figure from legend, but a living being who had suffered more than anyone could imagine.

“What do you want?” Gojo asked quietly when she finished.

“I want to be free,” Yume replied, her voice trembling slightly. “I want to break this curse and finally find peace.”

Gojo nodded slowly. “I can help you.”

Yume looked at him, hope flickering in her eyes for the first time in centuries. “How?”

“I’ll protect you,” Gojo said firmly. “We’ll find a way to break the curse together. You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

Yume was silent for a long moment, her gaze searching Gojo’s face for any hint of deception. But all she saw was sincerity, a determination that matched her own. For the first time in her endless life, she felt the possibility of hope.

“Thank you, Gojo Satoru,” she whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek. “You don’t know what this means to me.”

As the days turned into weeks, Gojo and Yume traveled together, seeking answers in ancient texts and forgotten places. Their bond grew stronger, a connection forged not just through their shared quest, but through an understanding of each other’s loneliness and pain. Gojo, who had always been alone at the top, found in Yume a kindred spirit, someone who understood the burden of power and the desire for freedom.

Yume, in turn, found solace in Gojo’s presence. His strength and confidence gave her hope, and his unwavering support made her believe that perhaps, just perhaps, she could escape her fate.

Their journey was fraught with danger. Curses and sorcerers alike sought to stop them, fearing the power they could unleash if they succeeded. But together, Gojo and Yume were unstoppable. They fought side by side, their powers complementing each other in a dance of light and darkness.

In the end, it was not some grand battle that brought them to their goal, but a quiet moment of realization. The curse that bound Yume was not one that could be broken by force, but by acceptance. She had to embrace her past, forgive herself for her perceived sins, and let go of the fear that had held her for so long.

And she did. With Gojo by her side, Yume confronted her past, faced her brother’s legacy, and chose to forgive herself. In that moment, the curse shattered, and for the first time in centuries, Yume felt the weight of her immortality lift from her shoulders.

She was free.

But freedom came at a cost. As the curse broke, Yume’s immortality faded, and she began to age, the centuries catching up with her in an instant. Gojo held her as she grew weaker, his heart breaking as he realized what was happening.

“Yume…” he whispered, tears filling his eyes.

“It’s alright,” she replied, her voice weak but filled with peace. “I’m finally free, Satoru. Thank you.”

And with that, Yume closed her eyes, a soft smile on her lips, and took her last breath in Gojo’s arms.

Gojo stayed with her until the end, his heart heavy with grief but also with a sense of fulfillment. He had done what he set out to do. He had given her the peace she so desperately sought.

As he buried Yume in the forest where they first met, Gojo made a silent vow to remember her, to keep her story alive so that she would never be forgotten. He knew that she would always hold a special place in his heart, a reminder that even the strongest among them needed someone to lean on.

And so, Gojo Satoru, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, walked away from the forest, his heart a little heavier, but his resolve stronger than ever. He had lost a companion, a friend, and perhaps something more, but he had gained a deeper understanding of the world, of life, and of the importance of connection.

Yume’s story might have been over, but Gojo’s was far from it. And as long as he lived, her memory would continue to guide him, a beacon of hope and strength in a world filled with darkness.

~~~

Yuji Itadori lay on the ground, his body still, but inside, something had shifted. Sukuna, the King of Curses, had taken over again, but this time, something was different—something beyond anyone’s understanding.

Gojo Satoru stood a short distance away, his sharp gaze focused on Yuji’s form. He could feel the shift, the subtle yet undeniable presence of something more. It wasn’t just Sukuna; something else had returned, something he had thought he would never see again.

Yuji’s body began to stir, and as it did, a familiar energy started to emanate from it—a presence that Gojo knew all too well. His heart skipped a beat, a mixture of disbelief and hope surging through him. It couldn’t be… could it?

Slowly, Yuji’s body lifted off the ground, and when his eyes opened, they weren’t just Sukuna’s crimson eyes of malice. They were also Yume’s deep, sorrowful eyes. The combination was eerie, a blend of Sukuna’s twisted grin and Yume’s serene grace.

“Satoru…” The voice that came from Yuji’s lips was a blend of Sukuna’s cruel tone and Yume’s gentle warmth.

Gojo’s breath caught in his throat. It was her. Somehow, Yume had returned, but she wasn’t alone. She was sharing a vessel with her brother, trapped once again in a situation she had never asked for.

“Yume?” Gojo’s voice was barely above a whisper, his usual confident demeanor cracking under the weight of the impossible situation.

“Yes,” Yume replied, her voice gentle and conflicted. “I’m back… but not as I was. Sukuna’s presence brought me back.”

A twisted chuckle escaped Sukuna’s lips—no, Yuji’s lips, but it was unmistakably Sukuna’s. “Surprised, Gojo? Seems my dear sister just couldn’t stay dead. What a family reunion.”

Gojo’s eyes narrowed, and without hesitation, he closed the distance between them. His hand gently cupped Yuji’s—no, Yume’s—cheek, and for a moment, the dark presence of Sukuna faded into the background, leaving only Yume’s soft expression.

“I thought I lost you,” Gojo said, his voice betraying the emotions he usually kept buried. “But you’re here… and I’m not letting you go again.”

Yume’s eyes glistened with tears, a stark contrast to the malevolent smirk that Sukuna’s influence forced onto her lips. “I don’t know how long I can stay like this,” she whispered. “He’s too strong… but for now, I’m here.”

Gojo’s protective instincts kicked in immediately. He could feel Sukuna lurking, waiting for an opportunity to seize control again, but he wouldn’t allow it. Not this time. Not when Yume was back in his life, even if it was under these dire circumstances.

“You’re not going anywhere without me,” Gojo declared, his voice filled with a mix of determination and affection. “I won’t let him take you away again.”

Sukuna’s laughter echoed in their minds, but Yume’s soft smile, though forced, was enough to push the dark energy back for now. “I’ll stay with you, Satoru,” she said, her voice laced with both resolve and fear.

From that moment on, Gojo rarely left Yume’s—Yuji’s—side. The others at Jujutsu High noticed the change in him, the way his carefree attitude had shifted into something more serious, more protective. They saw how he stayed close to Yuji, how his gaze softened whenever Yume’s presence emerged, even if it was fleeting.

Days turned into weeks, and Gojo’s protective nature only intensified. He shielded Yume from every danger, never allowing her to be alone, always keeping Sukuna’s influence at bay. He fought with a ferocity that none of his students had ever seen before, a determination born not just from his duty as a jujutsu sorcerer but from his deep, unspoken feelings for Yume.

Yume, for her part, was torn. She wanted to stay with Gojo, to find solace in his presence, but she knew that Sukuna’s power was too strong. She feared what he might do, how he might use her against those she cared about. Yet, whenever Gojo was near, she felt safe, even if it was just for a moment.

“Satoru,” she said one evening as they sat together in a quiet corner of the school. The moonlight streamed through the windows, casting a soft glow over them. “You can’t keep doing this… you can’t protect me forever.”

“I can and I will,” Gojo replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ll find a way to free you from him. I won’t let him win.”

Yume looked at him, her heart aching. She wanted to believe him, to trust that he could somehow save her, but the reality of their situation weighed heavily on her. “What if you can’t? What if he takes over completely?”

Gojo’s eyes, usually so full of mischief, were serious, determined. “Then I’ll fight him. I’ll fight him until there’s nothing left of him. I’ve faced worse odds before, Yume. I won’t lose you again.”

Yume’s tears fell freely now, her emotions too overwhelming to contain. She leaned into Gojo, letting herself be held by him, even as she felt Sukuna’s presence lurking in the background, waiting for his chance to strike.

But for now, in this moment, she was with Gojo. And for both of them, that was enough.

As the night wore on, Gojo held Yume close, his arms wrapped around her protectively. He knew the road ahead would be difficult, that Sukuna wouldn’t give up easily, but he didn’t care. As long as Yume was by his side, he would fight with everything he had.

He would protect her, no matter the cost.

And somewhere deep within Yuji’s mind, Sukuna watched with a twisted grin, biding his time, knowing that the game was far from over. But even he couldn’t deny the strength of the bond between Gojo and Yume. It was a bond that would make the coming battle all the more interesting.

For now, though, Sukuna would wait, watching and learning. Because even the King of Curses knew that in this game of power and love, there were still pieces left to move, and the outcome was anything but certain.

~~~

The days at Jujutsu High grew increasingly tense as Gojo Satoru continued his relentless quest to separate Yume from Sukuna’s grasp. Yume's presence within Yuji's body was fleeting and fragile, a flickering light overshadowed by Sukuna's dark energy. But Gojo refused to give up, his mind working tirelessly to find a way to bring Yume back fully—to give her the life she deserved, separate from her brother’s malevolent influence.

Gojo’s research led him deep into ancient texts, forgotten rituals, and the rarest of cursed techniques. He spent sleepless nights poring over scrolls and consulting with the few sorcerers who possessed the knowledge he sought. The idea of bringing Yume back to her original body, buried in the forest where they had first met, was a thought that never left his mind. But such a feat required immense power and precision, and even Gojo knew the risks were high.

Yet, the thought of Yume’s smile, of her being free from Sukuna’s shadow, was enough to push him forward. He would do anything to see her truly alive again.

One evening, after another exhausting day of battles and teaching, Gojo felt a surge of determination. He had gathered everything he needed—the right incantations, the precise location of her body, and the immense amount of cursed energy required to make it all happen. There was no more time to waste. Yume had been trapped for too long.

“Yume,” Gojo whispered as he approached Yuji, who was resting in his dorm room. The soft glow of the setting sun filtered through the window, casting a warm light on Yuji’s face. Gojo could sense her presence, faint but there, overshadowing Sukuna’s ever-watchful eye.

Yuji’s eyes opened, and for a moment, Yume’s gentle gaze met Gojo’s. “Satoru…” Her voice was soft, filled with both hope and fear. “What are you planning?”

Gojo’s expression was serious, but his eyes held a tenderness that was reserved only for her. “I’ve found a way to bring you back, Yume. To give you your own body again.”

Yume’s breath caught in her throat. The thought of being free, of no longer being bound to Sukuna, was something she had longed for but never truly believed possible. “Is it… really possible?”

Gojo nodded, his confidence unwavering. “It won’t be easy, and it’s risky, but I believe it can work. I just need you to trust me.”

Yume hesitated, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts. She had always trusted Gojo, but the fear of the unknown, of what could go wrong, gnawed at her. Yet, as she looked into his eyes, filled with determination and love, she knew she had to take this chance. “I trust you, Satoru,” she whispered.

Gojo smiled, a rare, genuine smile that reached his eyes. “Good. Then let’s do this.”

That night, under the cover of darkness, Gojo led Yuji—led Yume—to the forest where her body was buried. The forest was quiet, the air thick with anticipation. The moon hung low in the sky, casting an ethereal light over the ancient trees, and the atmosphere crackled with energy.

Gojo had prepared the area meticulously. He had drawn intricate symbols around the grave, using a mixture of his own cursed energy and the knowledge he had gleaned from the ancient texts. Everything was in place. Now, it was up to him to make it work.

As they stood by the grave, Gojo turned to Yume. “This might feel strange, but I need you to focus. I need you to hold on to who you are, to your essence. Don’t let Sukuna interfere.”

Yume nodded, her resolve strengthening. She could feel Sukuna stirring, his dark presence attempting to push her back, but she fought against it, holding on to Gojo’s words.

Gojo began the ritual, his voice steady as he chanted the ancient incantations. The ground beneath them started to tremble, and the symbols around the grave glowed with a soft, otherworldly light. Gojo’s cursed energy surged, wrapping around Yuji’s body, pulling at the essence of Yume within.

For a moment, it seemed as though nothing was happening. But then, Yume’s presence began to shift. Slowly, her spirit separated from Yuji’s body, drawn towards the grave where her original body lay. Sukuna’s influence roared, trying to pull her back, but Gojo’s energy pushed him away, creating a barrier that he couldn’t penetrate.

As Yume’s spirit moved towards her body, the ground split open, revealing her resting place. The sight of her body, preserved by some ancient magic, was both beautiful and heartbreaking. She looked just as she had before—young, serene, untouched by time.

Gojo’s energy enveloped her, guiding her spirit back to her body. There was a moment of tension, a final struggle as Sukuna tried to regain control, but Gojo’s power was too strong. With a final surge of energy, Yume’s spirit fully entered her body, and the connection was made.

The light around the grave intensified, and then, in an instant, it faded, leaving only the soft glow of the moonlight. For a moment, everything was still. Gojo held his breath, his heart pounding in his chest.

Then, slowly, Yume’s body began to move. Her chest rose and fell with the first breath she had taken in centuries. Her eyes fluttered open, revealing the same deep, soulful gaze that Gojo had missed so much.

“Satoru…” Yume’s voice was soft, but it was her own, free from Sukuna’s influence.

Gojo dropped to his knees beside her, his eyes wide with a mixture of relief and disbelief. He gently took her hand, feeling the warmth of her skin, the realness of her presence. “Yume… you’re really here.”

Yume sat up slowly, her movements tentative as she adjusted to being in her own body again. She looked at Gojo, a smile spreading across her face, and without thinking, she threw her arms around him, holding him close. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “Thank you for bringing me back.”

Gojo wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly as if afraid she might disappear again. “I told you I wouldn’t let him win,” he murmured, his voice filled with emotion he rarely showed.

For a long time, they stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, savoring the moment that neither of them had believed possible. Yume was back, truly back, and Gojo couldn’t have been happier. She was young again, just as she had been before she died, and the sight of her brought a warmth to Gojo’s heart that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

But even as they embraced, Gojo’s protective instincts remained on high alert. He had Yume back, but he knew that the world they lived in was dangerous, filled with enemies who would seek to harm her, to use her once more. He wouldn’t let that happen. From this moment on, Gojo vowed to keep Yume safe, no matter what.

“You’re not going anywhere without me,” Gojo said softly, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

Yume smiled, her heart swelling with affection for the man who had done the impossible to bring her back. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And so, with Yume now by his side in her own body, Gojo Satoru prepared to face whatever challenges lay ahead. Together, they would navigate the dangers of their world, their bond stronger than ever. And no matter what came their way, Gojo knew one thing for certain—he would protect Yume with everything he had, for as long as they both lived.

If you liked this story Buy me a Coffee ;)

[mellowscrolls]

I’ll bite! Tell me about your Dragon Cult headcanons :0

Okay! Dear God, let me go find my notes spread over like ten different documents (exaggeration)!

Alright, so starting off, I'm going to throw in a disclaimer that this is lore built off of Metallic and Liches' works and headcanons all given a new coat of varnish as I scoot my plagiarism ray out of frame. I'm going to throw it under a read more for clarity and the sake of everyone.

TW for manipulation, cults, mutilation (non-graphic)

Starting with the ancient hierarchy, I have it go somewhere like: Alduin > High Ranking Dovah > Konahriik > High Rank Dov's Ruling Priest > Low Ranking Dovah > Their Ruling Priest > Wooden Masks > Acolytes (unmasked) > Divines Clergy > Everyone Else. Technically Akatosh/Bormahu was supposed to be/was advertised as the top of that chain, but that didn't work out so much in practice.

Within the cult itself were a few key customs. Let's start with the masked priests.

Dov have one masked priest each to handle the politics and mortal affairs of their Junaar (kingdom). These masks are made of precious metal or material and can be made custom to the specifications of the dov who requires them. There is one Masked Priest per dovah who earns one, and that internal hierarchy amongst the dragons means that your status and what you are in charge of may change very frequently depending on your dragon's social standing.

It is a great honor and a great burden to be chosen for the role of a Named Masked priest. Masked priests are given names by their dovah, usually approved by Alduin, in a naming ceremony that erases their mortal name from living and recorded memory. Only the dov bestowing the new name may remember the old, and to keep a copy of the name in physical form is considered a great insult.

In preparation for a naming ceremony, priests are usually imbued with "blessings" by being carved with (or even forced themselves to carve) Words of Power into their skin, which are then imbued with power and bound to the priest-to-be's soul by their dovah. These enchantments are binding to the soul in a way that can either slightly shift their personality to favor the nature of the word or can make them a completely different person, at their dovahthuri's discretion. These blessings are extremely hard to sunder and cannot be harmed by the person they are upon unless directly ordered by their dovah or Alduin. (Most of the carving part of the headcanon was pioneered by @metallic-scaled-scarf with Nonvul, go check them out)

Under the Masked priest within their own Junaar was usually a group of attendants ranging in number from about 3-5. They are the Wooden Priests, wearing wooden masks in the style of their Priest, symbolizing their un-named and un-blessed status. They were not allowed to speak, but were usually able to communicate telepathically as a sort of hivemind while still maintaining most of their original personality. Masked Priests were always chosen from their predecessor's pool of Wooden Priests, so there was a long-term competitive nature usually fostered within their little group. Any Clergy below the Masked and Wooden Priests went without a facial covering and could communicate freely. When converging in Bromjunaar for moots, the Masked Named priests would trade their masks for wooden ones to hear the words of Konahriik, as both a gesture symbolizing equality as well as silence before the words of the Mouthpiece of Alduin.

In global politics, mer were much more unlikely to ever make it to the rank of Masked Priest, with the Falmer treated as slaves and prisoners of conquest while the Ayleids and Chimer were treated as highly tenuous allies at best. Dragons did not usually care for their priests so much as use them as tools of communication and politick. A Masked Priest was very regularly simply a new game of chess to start with the other Dov as one would vie for another's power, land, or status.

As for individual Headcanons, or how I write my dragon priests, I will make another post in the near future.

[adenes-archive]

Warden!Sukuna x Inmate!Reader

Warnings: suicide mentioned (wasnt done), degrading, throat fucking, face slapping, and spitting (ONCE)

wc: 773

Notes: probs pt 1

Lets start off with the basics

You were in jail for something petty…almost

Petty being attempted murder

It didn’t matter, you acted out of self defense but everything was just against you that day

The jury was split and jail was bestowed upon you by some scrawny man who didn’t like how you glared at the man you almost killed…pussy

Jail was hell. It was smelly and 100% not your cup of tea

Fights every other hour, one pair of underwear, less than 10 minutes in a shower, it was everything you didn’t want or need in life

The only thing keeping you going was the warden

Suicide was an option during your first 2 weeks but the wardens visit is what deterred you away from any thoughts

He was tall, had pink hair, gorgeous tattoos, and just mouth watering to put it plain and simple

Basically almost every females wet dream

“Alright ladies you know what time it is,” His booming voice echoed through the cell block

This happened every 2 weeks, the warden checking your cell

Sukuna’s power in general was feared

The amount of power he radiated was overwhelming to say the least

You always found yourself with problems

Girls starting fights with you, hiding contraband in your room the whole 9 yards

You weren’t top in your cell block, however, you could very well easily take that spot

This time you were in the clear (or so you thought) you luckily haven't had a cellmate in a few months

“Congratulations y/n, nothing this time,” Sukuna whispered in your ear. He smirked at your face and rubbed something in his pocket

Your heart instantly dropped to your ass

thanking whatever god that was above. he found something but wasn’t holding you accountable…yet

He finished his search and left, a few girls were taken to solitary confinement

Soon enough you did find yourself in a fight, not swinging first aided you for once and you both were instantly brought to Sukuna’s office

“Couldn’t even wait for me to be settled in could you two?”

Your eyes were set on the floor, the girl next to you already allowing her mouth to run

Sukuna ordered her out immediately, sending her to solitary confinement

You however remained silent completely missing the questions and directions you were given

“I said, who the fuck put a shiv in your fuckin’ room?”

You were stunned but kept quiet

The world had always been against you, and the deep timbre of his voice and the small bit of anger laced in it made your thighs clench shamefully

“You never learn do you”

Next thing you know you’re in solitary confinement, on your knees with your mouth wide open to accommodate Sukunas thick and lengthy cock

Your eyes were glassy and tears were streaming down your face while you let the warden abuse your tight throat

His thrusts were sharp, not allowing any air to come through your mouth or nose for that matter

“Fuck your throat’s the best,” he rasped. “Thats fuckin’ right suck my fuckin cock you slut.”

He pulled you back and grinned devilishly down at you. You followed his cock eager to have it abusing your throat once more only to hear him laugh and slap your face

“You’re a filthy cock drunk whore aren’t you,” Sukuna asked. You whined and opened your mouth.

“Please sir, use me, fuck…please,” you cried.

He wasted no time with picking you up and forcing your head over the edge of the bed, giving him leverage to see his cock bulge deep in your throat

He couldnt resist putting his hand on your throat and stroking it opposite of his thrusts making him groan out, “Fuck, yes. God fuckin’ damn, take my nut you nasty slut.” he hunched forward and jackhammered into your throat, his hand tight on your neck while his balls were slapping your nose giving you the delicious lightheaded feeling

Feeling his cock go deeper in your throat made his head spin, you gagged at the perfect time, practically ripping his orgasm from him, “fuckin’ take it. Good. Fucking. Girl.” he accentuated his final spurts of delicious cum with rough thrusts

He pulled himself out and grinned at the mess of saliva across your face

“Open.” you obeyed and opened your mouth, earning a glob of spit on which you swallowed “good girl.” with a slap to your cheek he tucked his cock into his work pants

“Bad girls get reprimanded, if i have to I’ll put you in here time and time again until you act straight, you got that?”

You nodded your head with a dumb smile and watched as he retreated from the room, a small pep in his step.

lol

part 2