#but if i need to send myself to the shadow realm to be able to focus on art then by god i will do it

[aurosoulart]

I put a little deer inside the lamp to be its light source... his name is Lightbringer and he acts as a guide through even the darkest of forests. ☀🦌

(ps: if you have Figmin XR, you can download this and put it in your own home here!)

[i-bring-crack]

Part 5 from these one, two, three and four Wips.

"A King is needed everywhere." The dragon Maiden looks back at her sword, [God's Blood] shines with a unique aura as Jin-Chul takes one step forward before collapsing on the marvelous floor. The drops of blood and white miasma that is running through his eyes filters his vision alongside the running tears that fall in the reflective floor.

"But not here." Her hands clench the weapon ready to break the same way as her voice shatters with every word.

"You. Know. That... You. Said..."

A White golden screen cuts the sight of his frail body, trembling muscles as he tries to contain the power of a God inside the weakest man known to have come this far. His thoughts glow freely over the screen.

[I'm sorry. I'd promise to tell you everything once and for all, and I did, but I couldn't bring myself to tell you about this.]

The red aura in her eyes quelled just a flicker.

[From the moment I stepped into this world I wanted to set Hunter Sung free to be able to grow into a God himself. I wanted him to be the strongest being there ever was because I knew he could do it. I knew him of all people had the power to do so, but he had to earn it on his own.]

[The only way to do that was to revive the source of his limits and fully destroy it.]

[That was all I wanted from the very first moment.]

She took one step closer.

"Then why am I here...." and not him? Why send Jin-Woo back to earth and have him kill the rest of the Itarims out there while they both came here to this throne room? He planed to killed himself— no, to merge with the Absolute Being and... and do what's in front of her. Why didn't he ask Jin-Woo to kill him then, or do it himself or ask Lennart and Ju-Hee to take the rest of the burden why is she—

Cha Hae-In takes her sight to the reflection of her sword. Before she can even say anything the words of the system change again.

[...I've always wondered how Ashborn went from a Ruler to a Monarch...]

[It needs a sacrifice of sorts, I think. Well, as far as I knew Ash or had died in order to get the power over the dead. The same happened with Jin-Woo. But to bring the power of light onto someone else...]

The Light scattered in his body, Hae-In moved even faster than before to catch the body of Jin-Chul before his head hit the floor.

[...With this, I can grant two wishes.]

He wasn't able to take a look at her face anymore, only at the floor and some blurry visions of white.

"Chief—" But her voice has never sounded so shattered, mumbling with sobs and ready to shout. Has she ever felt this much sadness in the novel? He doesn't think such emotions were ever shown. Maybe back at the Double dungeon. Maybe back when Jin-Woo was stabbed in the back.

But even then...

[...Hunter Sung will be able to become an Itarim himself.]

A God of Death whose powers can surpass even those of his son.

[...You can be a Ruler...]

He felt the movement of his body being turned over to face an even brighter light with a warm aura coveting his body. It was so warm that the small droplets of water which fell on his cheeks felt like ice upon his skin.

[Take the light.]

He always thought it suited her the most, especially when she had been the light in Jin-Woo’s dark world. To this day she still was, despite the embodiment of chaos trying to control her body, despite the number of regressions that cup had done to her soul.

Just as she had brightened his days for the 7 years in the hospital, he also wanted, even if it was at the cost of his life, to make her shine once more.

But he couldn't hear anything anymore. He couldn't hear the sword or her answer.

Jin-Chul finally let the miasma of the Absolute Being take full control of him.

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"It's over now."

Esil watched as the screen flickered in her hands. From afar she could hear the shadows move all around her, and the scent of mana change to something far more powerful that covered very realm.

As a demon, her senses naturally tuned and made her skin crawl whenever the purest of mana was close to her.

Turning around she saw Jin-Woo, who had finished massacring the monsters from the outer gods, and realize it too.

The change in his body, the change in his heart.

His eyes quickly turned over to Esil, who almost jumped at the sight of his teletransportation.

"Show me. Show me where Jin-Chul is right now."

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"This is horrible!" Ju-Hee protested. "Someone call for Laura again!"

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Bora: I don't mean to say this in a bad way vice, but like, have you considered... possibly... maybe in the future... thatyoushouldgettherapy?

Haein: ...Is that what a normal person does?

Bora: It's what any sane person would do.

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"Here. A present."

"Why?"

"Because its your birthday."

He checked the stool again. "But I've only been born 5 minutes ago?"

"Yeah and? How many children do you think ive laid that didn't die in less than 3?"

... He didn't take the Plague Monarch to be that caring, but then again he didn't expect much from them in the first place.

Also, wasn't she the only one without a direct descendant out of the first three monarchs? So that naturally meant....

Jin-Chul looked at the river where his worm form was reflected. I'm their first child.

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Zhigang kept smiling the entire time. It wouldn't have bothered him in the least had it not been for his snicker whenever he took glances at his shoulder.

"Hunter Liu do you have something you want to say?"

"Mn?" The necklace flickered in his hand before answering in Chinese and being translated back by the necklace. "No."

He does.

He so does.

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"Wow."

"Hyung-nim I..."

"HAAHA—" Il-Hwan grabbed a hold of Jin-Ah's mouth. But unless someone was blind then Jin-Woo knew exactly what she was laughing about.meanwhile Song-I was still muttering to herself.

"Oh god ohohoho." A smirk almost appearing in her face at the surprise.

"...Honey."Kyung Hye finally spoke as she looked at the cropse in Jin-Woo’s hands. "We support you in... resurrecting the dead but..." She point her finger sternly. "Don't bring corpses to the house."

Jin-Woo turned to face the corpse. Thank you, now I look like a freak in front of the entire family!

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Now that he returned back to the base, the first thing to do was ask:

"Where's Hunter Cha?"

The whole base got quiet like a lie.

In moments like this he turned to the only person he could trust with a sinister smile on his face. "Laura."

"I ain't snitiching."

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[The Priest of Snow calls upon a 'Blizzard']

From the souther sides all the enimiads were stuck to the floor by the ice that extended everywhere except where he and Jin-Woo stood.

[The Priest of Plagues calls upon 'The Black Death']

As soon as the snows stopped its pour upon the floor, a black mist came alongside it. In a quick second he turned to Jin-Woo to cast a seal of protection for the both of them.

[The Priest of Beasts calls upon 'Rabid Bloodlust']

Howls reupted from the east.

[The Priest of Dragons calls forth 'Wrath']

Roars came from the west.

[The System opens up the gates of the four realms]

From all four sides the monsters appeared to encircle the battlefield, Moaki looks around with intrepid anger as she leads five of her 20 sons of to war.

{Butcher them.}

Jin-Woo is still down from the pain inflicted by Kain and Moaki. Despite killing one of them he had extorted too much mana and thus couldn't fight them off any longer. Neither could he against Moaki, but he was somewhat glad that the biggest threat had been killed.

And the surviving Itarim will quickly be killed if he can just—

[The Priest Choi Jong-In has called forth 'The Queen's Summon'.]

His eyes widened at the light that comes towards him from Moaki. A beam of light so strong that everyone around it is dazed by it.

But only one person manages to block it.

The beam is shot towards the sky, light itself shatters and creates an explotion that ruptures dimensions. The scene itself was reminiscent of a big bang or a supernova before dying out quickly and getting wrapped in the cracks.

That beautiful scene suddenly turned dark as he lowered his gaze towards the woman standing in front of him.

[The Ruler of Life, Queen of the Heavens, gazes upon you.]

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Between fated lovers, only a gaze was needed to understand ever thought that flowed through them.

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"...They are going to spread rumors." Despite Jin-Chul trying his best to compose himself, Hae-In’s hand on his hip still made him loose some of his ability to speak clearly.

"Leave them." His heart jumped at the sudden voice coming from behind him "if they know what's good for them they will shut up." The mana in his eyes flickered, one stare was more than enough for the entire room to understand. And for a second he regretted having gotten Dong-Soo's ire just so that Jin-Woo and Jin-Ho wouldn't be persecuted, because if he had simply let the original route of events he wouldn't be in such an embarrassing situation.

As if it wasn't enough, looking at the smirking vice from afar, he could feel Jin-Ho was bound to repeat his words again. Bodyguard huh? For who? For who?

[insanityofvaas]

2 in 1 uquizzes

Thank you @hotmessteaparty for thinking of me, sending you much love! ❤️

And sorry to everyone that it takes me an age sometimes to get tag games, asks and everything else done. I love you all, but I'm a mess more often than not, let's be real.

I'll be doing both quizzes with my OC Eduardo.

He still needs a bunch of work and quizzes might be a good way to flesh out more details about him. Or just fun. Both good things!

What is your OCs true role in the story?

the antihero ah yes, hello edge lord. it is lovely to see you again. you my dear, are the incarnation of duality, and you might think of claws and venom mixed with grace but alas, nothing near as poetic. you my friend, are mixture of what is seen as right, and what is questioned. you follow the path of your own two feet, you know the twists and turns of life's forests quite well if I do say so myself. and you can meander along them wonderfully. you strive to stay true to a certain sense of principles you might call your code, but whereas in reality, those would be your morals. people tend to see you as strange. sharp edged and glinting you hide behind a cloak of chain mail but really you just prefer to show off your imperfections first. unlike many who scramble to make it as if their flaws never existed, you proudly raise yours up. saying, "this is me, this is the worst of me, now you know what to expect." and might I say, it is quite an intriguing mindset, for truth be told, the ones that love your spikes and craters are the ones who appreciate your softness the most. you wish not to be loved as something lovable, but as a monster. for aren't we all just beasts in human skin? you are brave, but you are lonely. you know quite well how to scare off most, making even the heroes with the boldest bravado creep away with their tails between their legs. you are not a villian, sometimes you play the part a bit too well. but nevertheless you are no hero either. you put yourself first, but if one wins your trust then may the gods have mercy on those who might wrong them. you long to be a poetic mess of sorts, and well, if the ink sets in long enough you might just become that sooner or later. but for one who is so dead set on truth you sure do hide a lot don't you? please, step out of the shadows, there is a difference to not making your flaws visible and to simply acting as if you're the most despicable person in all the realms. it's because you're afraid of attachment is it not? well let me tell you a little secret, everyone is. you say you wish to be left alone for eternity but than why are you craving connection. you wish to be known and understood truly, but you snarl and push the ones that might be trying away. please little wolf, accept you are lovable. you are not some ravenous beast that terrifies the multitudes, sure, you are not for the faint of heart but that does not make you an inkling less perfect as you are. young antihero, step into the sun. you would do better actually reaching for the things you want rather than pining for them in the darkness.

I don't really think he's an edge lord or anything like that. There are definitely things in there that suit him, for sure, so I'm okay with that result!

The "Oh" quiz

the kiss you typically wait until the last second to believe the truth--because it would destroy you to believe it, and then find out it was a lie. you are someone who has never wanted to want, but has rarely been able to do anything else. the idea that you might have to break down your walls for the sake of someone else, someone who could easily decide they don't like what is on the other side, is harrowing. why let people get close enough to be rejected? you are enough for yourself. and you will tell yourself that every time you catch yourself staring at their mouth, smirking at their joke, finding a reason to flick their shoulder. until the kiss. that's when the flood of want, want, want bowls over you and you realize that you are torn between two ways of living. Oh, you think. because despite how complicated you have made it, the moment you kiss, somehow, things seem incredibly simple. they won't be once you start thinking again, but for now, for this moment, you live in the quiet peace of revelation. Oh.

Okay, another result I'm fine with because, again, there are some decent truths in there that I can see fitting him! Mind you, a lot of him not liking to get too close with people romantically is because he's a slut, lol, and the idea of tying himself down to a single person kind of freaks him out. He's still young and wants to have fun!

And there you have it! So, I'll be tagging, with zero pressure: @chocopinda (when you're back, I miss you! <3) @jasonsnowwhitebrody @themadknightuniverse @kidkubrick @ignaciosalamanca @ignaurcio @jacobseedsmalewife @so-cal-douchebag @stacispratt @chaosgoodvibes and anyone else that wants to do it because my attention span is dying.

[yukarinuniversaltraveler]

An extremely long life update

Copy-pasted from a news post on my Newgrounds page: https://yukarinladyboss495.newgrounds.com/news/post/1381639

Hey, so I just kinda disappeared out of nowhere with only a vague comment about going on a hiatus but never making any "official announcement" about it. So here I am, just tryna get y'all up to speed with what's been going through my life. Nothin' much, but still quite a lot, so when I make a comeback to all art places, I'm gonna have to do some heavy rework of all my social media to make sure everything's up to date, since many things are very outdated.

So first off, the reason why I went on this hiatus was because of the heavy burnout and a lot of pressure that I was putting on myself, on top of being very emotionally unstable due to gruesome things happening in my life (cutting ties with "friends" that manipulated me, feeling awful about myself, my art, and everything I do, added to having an overall bad luck strike for some months, where it seemed like I could not do a single thing right without messing up five in the process), so I was forcing myself to draw to exhaustion just to keep doing something, so I wouldn't have an anxiety attack. But I just couldn't keep on doing that, which is why I decided to stop producing art for most of this year.

The emphasis is on the word "producing". I'm still making and creating new art, but putting less and less effort into it, and just drawing anything I felt like at the moment, mostly just pencil sketches that I posted on my Twitter, Facebook, and Tumblr, and refraining from creating digital art.

It's worked wonders on my psyche, and with every week that went by, I began to "fall in love" again with drawing. I still do not plan to return to making art "seriously", but when I do, I definitely will change the way I produce art, so I can still find the art process enjoyable without putting too much "unnecesarily pointless" effort into it. Some of the sketches I made got a lot of likes and attention, easily putting the rest of my artworks to shame! So yeah, there's that.

The second reason is that since I am a person who just-so happens to be and live in Venezuela, my Paypal account got terminated when I received a very much needed donation, and now I cannot accept support from anyone until I can find a suitable replacement to use that is not Paypal. This means that I am no longer taking commissions(not that I ever got any commissions to begin with), and my Ko-Fi account has donations turned off, essentially locking away all the exclusive content that was uploaded there. Then I watched that Duchess Celestia video where she talked about Ko-Fi's lack of security and how she lost a lot of money, so it's safe to say that I will quit using Ko-Fi altogether. I'm planning to migrate all my content to Patreon so my content is still available for, idk, some lost wandering soul that sends me money probably by mistake, but till then, all of my more recent artworks are banished to the Shadow Realm.

The third reason is that my ol' dinosaur PC is finally gonna get upgraded to 64 bits, so I had to do the tiresome task of making backups of everything I had on it, using only one 23 GB USB drive. Because of that, I couldn't make any digital art even if I wanted to, because I do not have the program to do it, so yeah, if anything, I'd call that a win. That said, once my PC is fully functional again, THAT is when I will be able to produce digital art normally again, so my hiatus will go on a little longer after I feel fully "recovered".

That, in a nutshell, is why I went on this massive hiatus, and let me tell ya, hiatuses are underrated! I know y'all who live off of art have your brains consumed by hustle culture and wouldn't take a break even if your working hand fell off your arm, but as someone who never had art as a career option, taking this time off was the best thing I could ever do. I feel rejuvenated! I'm starting to enjoy things again! I'm happier! I'm exploring new things and rediscovering things that I'd forgotten about or left behind!

I am much better now!

So yeah what I'm trying to say, is that this perception of taking a break as something bad that has to be avoided, and more like a positive thing, seriously! People gotta stop focusing on those silly Twitter numbers and start focusing more on their health and well-being!

"Yeah but it's not that simple, some of us need to make art for a living", brother, I am not looking for a debate, please do not try to reply with this, because I will ignore you. I am in the right, and so are you. Let's just agree to disagree, and move on with our lives, okay?

And that would be it! Just dropping by to let y'all know that I'm still breathing, that I haven't given up on Newgrounds, and that hopefully soon I will return with more art and better than ever!

As my favorite FNaF character would say, I always come back. ;)

Be seein' ya!

[shoot-of-corruption]

(Oh, look a meme I wanted to send about a week ago and it's Munday again. XD I know there's kinda a lot on here.. If it's too many I starred the ones I want to know the most about. That takes off 3 lol)

icons

*dash games

shipping

*your current RPC

*your character

*an old muse

*blocking

your choice!

Oh look!! A wild munday meme, i posted monday last week, got monday this week and decided to reply to on a wednesday PFFFFGGGHHHH!!

Thanks rainy! I appreciate your asks any day of the week x'D

icons

I have a love-hate relationship with icons. I simultaneously love them for how expressive they can make a post and hate how hard the icon game is on tumblr.

Like one expression can breathe so much more life into a reply or make the intentions you have so much more evident.

Whenever i see people using icons, i see perfect borders or even banners and uniformly sized colorcore icons... and the i feel embarassed.

I decided though that the icons i have might be crooked, not perfect and all a bit weirdly shaped...

But they are mine and they feel very comfortable to use for me in the shape and with the inclusion of exactly how much expression i want!

dash games

I mean they aren't life changing to me, but i always find it sweet if somebody tags me in one and it takes some time, but i usually do them.

If i can identify with the game that is.

What i want to clarify is though that nobody should feel forced to take part in dash games and even if you get tagged in one, you have every right to refuse. Simple as that.

shipping

Gotta say it as it is, I reslly like shipping. It gives me great chances to explore my character more and also their partner.

Usually it is "no strings attached" with me on all muses, which might be because i myself am aromantic... like my muses usually don't care much for romance and are hardly social... but somerimes, there is just this one ship that makes my heart sing 😌✨️

your current RPC

- is actually the best RPC i have ever been in. I have seen a lot of drama here and shit has hit the fan so often for me... but it just feels like home.

I want to come back and go on being here again inevitably.. i have long since stopped trying to explain this. I feel seen and respected and accepted here, i also feel like i am contributing stuff to the fandom and maybe i have also helped shaping it a little bit back in the day.... 🤷‍♀️

It just feels good to be here, i barely get any anxiety and i just love my muses 💚

your character

Honestly, I can't even tell you how i came to rp this complicated miserable mess of a character....

One day i just woke up with this thought in my head that there should be a fleshed out version of Yami Marik. I pondered how this could happen, like... he wasn't fully formed inside of Marik and then obviously killed as well.... the only way in my head was to arrange something in the shadow realm, which i did right after and then the headcanons and feelings came flooding...

By now I reached the level where his brain is as much my own, when i slip him over me like a glove and the words just keep flowing... asking me for headcanons without specifics is always pure chaos, because he is so interwoven with me now, that i know in EVERY situation what he would do, but when prompted with a random i am like: ....... but i need something to react to ..... what do you want to know.... i can't think something out.... GIVE ME SOMETHING TO KNOW HOW HE WOULD THINK ABOUT IT X'D

an old muse

Well another muse which I used to play was

... i think we get the direction my muses usually take now lhjfhsihhhdfkhhx.

Anyway, Flowey was relatively recent and I don't actually play as him anymore. I used to have a love-hate relationship with that too... you know he is a very angery boi, which is cathartic, but it's always keeping tough face with him, or you are risking slipping into mental break down territory.

Also... Underzale fandom didn't feel like here. I wasn't really able to get to know people and additionally, i just used it as a replacement, because i didn't feel comfortable coming back here... i wasn't in s good mental place... like nothing felt right. I think that overflow just went into this muse and actually was what i needed to work through my bad feelings, so thanks Flowey... you seemed to be toxic but you were the healing that I needed.

blocking

What a weird thing to put into a munday list LOL that's like asking: what do you think about the reblog button?

Honestly though.... blocking might be rude to some or an overreaction to others, but I PERSONALLY find it as necessary as breathing. There is some content that you simply can't blacklist, some people, who don't sit right with you, some topics that are beyond traumatic.... and some situations and relationships that looked like a dream but ended up being unbearably toxic.

BLOCKING is a necessary and useful device and should be considered in any and all situations of doubt, fear, toxicity, drama and generally feelings of unwell. Not to forget outright HATE.

Everybody - and I repeat - EVERYBODY deserves the security and self-love in their life to remove themselves from perceived and real danger of mental, emotional and physical properties. This is hard to do in RL and sometimes you have to just deal with your problems head on there or compromise about things to survive.

You should NEVER hsve to do this, especially not online, while doing domething you love and enjoy. All of us deserve to be happy, loved and feel okay. And if there is something - or somebody - that/who causes you to feel constant anxiety, terrible feelings, like you have to give a part of yourself up that you simply can't and won't budge on, that you are unwilling to talk and compromise about, do yourself the service and use the blocking function. You don't have to compromise, you don't have to talk about it, you DO NOT have to EXPLAIN YOURSELF.

Use this knowledge and lead a happier online life. I saw pictures of self harm on my time line once, which i actually have blacklisted, which wasn't tagged and it is very okay to INSTANTLY block this person in anxiety alone. Bloggers cannot keep your timeline trigger free all the time and you deserve to give yourself the attention to remove this harmful content from yourself.

NO QUESTIONS ASKED. You have the highest priority and then everything else follows.

your choice

Oh goody... uhm... I want to repeatedly thank people like you, who are interested in me and my muses and want to know what i have to say. I don't easily leave my shell sometimrs, even though i come off as bubbly and open and social.... i am... really not.

And it's mostly because I made a lot of bad choices about toxic people in my life... people who pretended to like me, pretended to want to know me, ridiculed me and every bit of my being and never took me seriously from a very young age... and it kinda fucked with my self-worth.

That's why i am so baffled, when somebody expresses wishes to know me and that is also why i say sorry a lot and try to explain every bit of "failure" to write better, faster and longer replies ^^

So... it still baffles me sometimes, when i find out that a lot of people honestly like me now... whenever my babbling goes on your nerves, i hope this explains most of it, LOL 💚✨️

[abyssalstories]

Life with Death

I’m finally being sent on my very first reaping! I’ve been so excited for this day I could barely focus on getting packed up. Although this day came a lot sooner than estimated I can’t wait, I’ve overheard some other reapers saying the humans are really entertaining. Some of these humans actually believe we exist but their guesses on how we look and act are completely off or so I’ve heard I don’t actually know. Thankfully I was able to finish packing my stuff before the big send off. I'm kind of sad to leave but It’s gonna be great in the human realm I just know it! I take one last look around my room, my posters of shadow workers eerily smile at me reminding me all reapers must reach perfection before leaving this realm, on second thought I’m happy to be going.

Taking a step towards the door I remember something, I run to the corner of the room and pull up one of the floorboards and reach into the darkness it reveals, retrieving a small plushie. Its eyes glow bright yellow and its body midnight black with pure white wings and a faded glowing ring floating above its head. I still don’t know how that thing doesn’t fall off but it’s better that way “I could never forget you” I whisper as I hide it in my secret coat pocket. I rush out the door, shutting it behind me.

After a bit of searching I found the door labeled departure room. The sign looks heavily damaged but that’s normal I think, slowly opening the door I step inside “Hello? It’s a little dark in here, is someone here?” I try to look around stepping a little further into the room when the lights suddenly flash on startling me, I quickly realize the five other reapers surrounding me I’m about to say hi but I see they don’t look happy “Welcome little Koral to your great finale” The reaper in front of me announces in a proud voice “We have been chosen to guide you to your purpose” another reaper adds as they all take a step back and start chanting in a low drone “Wait do I get to say goodbye?” I quickly ask but get no response so I stand silently as they continue their chanting but as I listen to what they’re saying unease flows through my heart I don’t understand what the words mean but I know this isn’t the departing spell, I’ve read about this before it’s the banishing spell. Before I can warn them they have the wrong spell I feel a burning sensation ripple through my head. I feel the flames erupt inside my skull like the embers of a dying universe, my vision fades and then there's nothing but dark.

“My child lost and fading, she knows your pain and she is waiting. Heal her soul with our gift long untold, Follow her undying love and we shall meet in the stars above.”

I’m startled awake suddenly by something shaking me. My eyes are greeted by a police officer's stern expression “Hey kid you're freaking everyone out, stop screaming already” He says gesturing to the people walking on a nearby path, most of them aren’t even trying to hide their disgusted glares. “Sorry officer it won’t happen again” I reply sheepishly as I sit up “You’re lucky I haven’t made you sleep elsewhere, you’re not supposed to loiter here” He points to a sign nearby “I was just leaving anyway thank you sir” I stand up and grab my belongings quickly walking away.

As soon as I’m out of sight I rush into a nearby alleyway. Careful not to step on any broken glass, I crouched behind a dumpster “That nightmare again, no something was different this time but what is it all supposed to mean?” I mumble to myself “What am I saying it’s just a stupid nightmare it doesn’t mean anything, it felt so real though” I stare into my dirt covered hands wishing an answer would just appear before me. No, it's hopeless to just stand around feeling sad. I have to keep moving, it’ll be fine I’m thinking when my stomach grumbles “I need food anyways” I step out of the alley and make my way to my favorite spot to look for food.

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

“This is so boring! Why do I have to make these stupid burgers, it’s the weekend we’re closed today!” I sigh as I pick up the last one of the burger patty’s off the grill with a spatula and place it on a bun. “Mom I’m done with the burgers” I shout through the little ordering window “Thank you sweetie I would do it but I have to restock our supply, just put them in a bag next to the dumpster out back please” she shouts back “Wait what? Why did I make them then?” I ask, getting no response I groan and head to the back door. Mom usually has a reason for what she does. I hope this time isn’t an exception. Stepping outside I pause for a second to take in the beautiful night. The sudden rustling of plastic startles me, I run back inside slamming the door behind me “Sweetie are you okay?” mom asks, peeking through the window “Mom there’s something in the garbage can!” I squeal in response but she just smiles at me “Oh he’s early today, that’s fine just go give him the bag then, I’m sure he’ll be happy” she disappears again before I can respond. I get it now she’s just feeding another stray cat, she really has got to stop before they start coming inside for food.

When I arrive back outside I hear the cat still digging through the dumpster, I slowly step to the edge of the overhead spotlights shine “Hey cat I got some food for you, I hope you’re hungry it’s burgers” As soon as I speak the rustling stops, I see it’s silhouette hop out of the dumpster. It’s a little big for a cat though, probably one of those fat ones “It’s kinda weird to give burgers to a-” the last word catches in my throat as a figure that is in fact not a cat steps into the light but quickly takes a step back “Who are you? Where is the other lady?” The figure questions me

[catsofimperium]

Q&A

Are Your OCs Up For Grabs?

NOPE. I love and am attached to all of them. I also want to encourage others to make characters of their own. But feel free to take inspiration from them. However, if you want to write them to maybe have a cute or interesting interaction between our characters, for instance, just ask for permission first and give credit. I am also down for roleplay.

How Can I Interact With This World?

Honestly in a lot of ways! You can support me by showing interest in my short little writings I plan to make for it and sending in prompts. But, as for yourself, you can create characters, art, writing, theories, and roleplay in this universe if you so desire. I myself am quite open to roleplay for anyone who wants to participate. 

Asks will always be open for questions as well. 

Do The Origins Mean They Will Be Normal Cats First?

No. The origins would have usually happened centuries ago to explain the existence of all the different cat races. Though some, such as The Glades, The Beloveds, or The Shades can happen as a result of exposure to their particular realms or under particular circumstances. Hence the naming convention. 

What Counts as Magic?

Magic is essentially using one's abilities to connect to something outside of themself. That’s right, there is some effort put into it. A cat being made of lava or having glowing wings is not magical since that's a part of their physical form, nor is a cat connecting with nature or the wind when these are essential parts of their being.

Cats that use magic can live without it, but it gives them extra abilities. Shade cats don't need to manipulate shadows but they can, them being shadows isn’t magical, their abilities are. Stells don’t need to make things glow but they can, them being made of constellations isn’t magical in and of itself either. But, feel free to make your magical cats have an unhealthy relationship with their magic if you want, such as needing it or the magic being too draining, if it fits their story. 

What Technology Does The World Have?

I’d say it falls under “convenient fantasy”. We might not have phones, making us have to send letters, or cars, but we conveniently have working taps and clean water. Might have to light your stove though and, if you don’t have any other way to travel, the railroads are probably your best bet. The overall aesthetic is fantasy but not necessarily medieval, so as long as you’re not bringing in devices like laptops and things, you should be okay. 

Can I Do Cross-races?

Of course you can! You can even do freaking triple races if you want, I don’t care. They can only take physical features from one of the races if you want, or both, and feel free to mix and match abilities, just make sure it actually makes sense with the character design (a cat mixed with a Molten that doesn’t actually contain any fiery features will not be able to burn things, for example). Cringe is dead and you are free. Just be courteous to your fellow creators and try not to make the equivalent of a demigod. Have fun!

Do Races Have Set Personalities?

Nope! There are stereotypes, but you can give them any personality you want. Again, the rule of thumb is to just use common sense in doing so. A hyper and bubbly or kindhearted cat in the Kingdom of Nocturnis isn’t going to be Mx. popular, but there are plenty of reasons you can come up with for why they went against the grain.

Are Certain Races Certain Breeds?

Nope! Feel free to play around with cat types, breeds, coat patterns, etc. So long as it fits the appearance notes given, you can just go hog wild. Keep in mind mixed races are also a possibility if you are looking for a combination of aesthetics or really want a certain hue for your character.

What Is The Purpose Of Some of The Color Clarifications?

So, I am specific about certain coloring for a few reasons;

Lore reasons A lot of the races have certain aesthetics. A Radius cat with cool colored beams or ones that glow darkly wouldn’t make sense for children of the sun.

Functionality If a race is supposed to have glowing elements to help light their or other’s paths, it just wouldn’t make sense for them to have a coloring that wouldn’t do this functionally. 

IdentificationA cat made out of lava that glows green wouldn’t make much sense, and, at that point, one wouldn’t be able to tell they were that race at all. 

This doesn’t include cats of mixed races, as messing with the usual aesthetics will showcase that. So it works the best this way all around. Of course, if you can find just cause to go against these conventions as well (like “thunderstorms also exist of this color”), go ahead. 

Are The Locations Listed The Only Ones?

Not at all, what is listed is just the main locations, cities, and places of origin for some of the races. The rest is purposefully kept vague so others can make their own cities, towns, or natural locations. 

A Lot of The Races Are The “Child” Of Something, Are These Actual Beings?

Yes! The elements have a mind of their own and subtle influence in this universe. Feel free to personify the elements and play around with your character’s relationship to them. Just because they are the child of whatever does not mean that they have to feel a deep connection to it, but it also is a possibility that they do. Elements can easily see a character as a lover, a friend, a child, or what have you if you want to go that route. 

The elements are personified but don’t require or demand worship, so you can justify any kind of relationship you want really. Just, again, be courteous of other writers and don’t use this to make your character practically a demigod, the elements may show mercy for you, but they will not fight for your character beyond the tools given to certain races. Stay within the lore and keep in mind what element created each race.

If your question wasn't answered, our asks are always open!

[confused-gay-raccoon]

Returning to the Shadows || Chapter 1: I Met Three Brothers

Today marks five years since I've been forced into the mortal world. Despite my searching, I haven't been able to figure out how I got here or how to go back home.

While in the mortal world, I've built a sort of life for myself. I see myself as not quite having a gender, though still present as male. I gave myself piercings and tattoos, figured out the type of clothes I enjoy, and styled my hair in a way that truly makes me feel like myself. I've also given myself the name Core, and taken the last name Whinnegan, after the kind family thats allowed me to stay with them. I've been staying with an elderly couple who own a bait and tackle shop by the harbor. They give me shelter and food, and in return I work at their shop. I must admit, I haven't hated my life in the mortal realm as much as I thought I would.

Today is a cool, rainy day. I don't expect many people to come into the shop, so I decide to take the opportunity to organize the shelves. I walk between the shelves and crouch down to reach the bottom shelf. Then, the bell hanging from the doorframe chimes, and I know someone must've entered the shop.

"I'll be at the counter in a moment!" I shout, letting them know someone working. I don't have to shout loud, the shop isn't that big. I can hear foot steps coming from multiple people and hushed mumbling. I quickly make the shelf look neat and rise to my feet, not realizing I almost bumped into someone. I jump back, giving space between me an the man. He's tall and muscular, his hair is dark brown, short, and curly, and on his back rest huge bat-like wings.

"I'm sorry," the man begins, "I didn't see you." "It's alright, I'm fine." I respond.

The man seems sad, his voice low, his eyes hooded. His facial features are mature, almost that of a warrior. He has scars on his face, chest, and arms. I'm sure he has scars on his legs too but they're hidden by his pants and boots. I look around him and see the other two people. A short man with a witches hat and shoulder length, blue hair, round glasses, and a more upperclass looking outfit. His facial features seem soft and innocent, though the expression on his face seems to express mischief. The other man is slightly taller but so skinny I can see his ribs through his button up shirt. He has long, red, curly hair slicked back into a pony tail, with one short curly strand dangling in front of his face. He has small horns on top of his head and a tail coming out of his lower back. His features are sharp and defined, he almost looks like a god these mortals would worship. Such an interesting group. The man with the wings walks over to a net and grabs it, the other two are only walking around and talking, not grabbing anything. The winged man takes the net to the front counter and I rush over to check him out. The other two join him. Thats when the horned one says something that catches my attention. He's talking to the witch about the realm of darkness.

"You know about the realm of darkness?" I can't help but ask. All three of them have their attention on me now.

"What do you know about it?" The horned one asks.

"Well..." I hesitate, trying to come up with a good excuse. "I've read a bit about it. Not many here discuss it."

"Do you know how to send people back there?" The witch asks. My eyes widen and it takes me a moment to recover from the question. Why would they want to know that? Unless... they're from there as well. I shake my head, the witch seems disappointed.

"Why would you want to know that?" I ask, coming off a bit more hostile then I intended. The witch opens his mouth to respond, but the winged one cuts him off. "You don't need to know that." He says in a harsh tone.

"Even if I could help?" I ask.

"You already said you couldn't."

"Well, I can't send people back there, but I assure you I have very extensive knowledge about the realm of darkness." I insist.

"We could let them come with us." The witch interrupts. The winged one gives me a look of suspicion. I give him a smile in return. If these guys are my chance to get home, then I need to take every chance I get. The winged one looks at the horned one, to which the horned one nods. The winged one sighs. "Fine. But stay out of the way. This is a serious mission and we cannot have anyone ruining it for us." I nod in agreement.

.

I look at the village I've spent the past five years in from the back of a ship. The witch said he conjured this ship up with his magic, which makes me question the stability, but I can only hope it'll all end up well because I can't swim.

It pained me to say goodbye to the Whinnegans, but they understood that I wanted to go home. I sit on the deck and open the bag Mrs. Whinnegan gave me. She packed me a lovely dinner of turkey meat, a container of cooked vegetables, a bottle of wine, and a slice of pound cake for dessert. If there's one thing these mortals do right, it's make food. I have yet to eat a meal I didn't enjoy. It's incredible the amount of ways they can cook a chickens unborn spawn. I bite into the turkey and feel my eyes start to fill with tears. It's now occurring to me how much I'll miss the Whinnegans. They were so kind to me. They're the only reason I've survived this long in the mortal realm and this is likely the last meal I'll ever eat from them. I feel a tear roll down my cheek and fall from my chin. I'm beginning to wonder if this quest is such a good idea.

"Is the food that good?" I hear a voice ask. I turn to see the witch sitting on the railing of the ship. I wipe my face with my sleeve then nod.

"Would you like some?" I offer.

The witch walks over and sits next to me. I hand him a piece of the turkey and he eats it.

"It's good, but I don't know about tear worthy." He says. "Is this your first time leaving your village?"

I hesitantly nod. "The people I was staying with were very kind." "Then what makes you so eager to come with us?" he asks.

It takes a moment to think of a good answer. "I just love the thought of a good adventure." I fake a cheerful smile. The witch smiles in return.

"So, how did the three of you become friends?" I ask, trying to change the subject.

"Oh, we're actually brothers." He responds to my shock.

"Brothers? But you look nothing alike."

"Blame our mother for that one." He says with a laugh.

I don't understand the answer, but I laugh along anyway. "So what's your name?" he asks me with a sweet smile. "Core," I respond. "What's yours?"

"Core?" He asks instead of answering my question.

"It's just what I decided to call myself." I say quickly without thinking of a good excuse. "Ah," he seems to understand. "Well I'm Nova."

"Well that's a nice name."

"Thank you, Core, yours is as well."

My smile becomes genuine. Maybe I won't dread this trip as much as I was beginning to fear.

[bloodycassian]

** PT 2 Azriel x reader - enemies to acquaintances PT 2. ** - reader gets a backstory, they clear another enemy camp together and bond more. Azriel apologizes. 

Slight TW for violence/domestic abuse mention. Trying to keep reader as genderless as possible but sometimes I inherently switch to using woman POVs- asks still very open ;)

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

"It seems I owe you an apology." Rhys began, pacing at the end of the makeshift bed the healers had set up for you. Your stomach rolled with nerves. His tone was not genuine, and you could feel the tension rolling off him in waves. The healers buzzing nearby suddenly found different things to do.

 Azriel and Cassian stood at the edge of the canopy, the drizzle of rain making their armor shine. "Azriel informed me of your injury- I'm impressed with your bravery." He smiled, his dark eyes making him look like a snake. 

You glanced to the shadowmaster, who nodded the slightest amount. "Did you receive my message from him?" You asked, and when he had a genuine wide grin - showing almost too many teeth - it gave you chills.

"I did in fact. I wish the same to you." He said with that deadly calm. Cassian tried to hide his laugh, Azriel remained stonefaced. "Let's take this to the war tent. Whenever you are...suitable." he glanced to your wing, still stained with crusted dry blood. 

You felt your cheeks heat slightly, and nodded. He strode out from the healers canopy and into the rain without a look back. The generals followed him, Azriel glancing back to you only for a second. 

+

Once you had mustered the strength to get out of the cot, you thanked your healers. They insisted on giving you healing potions before you departed. And tried to get you to promise to come back for a check in daily. Mobility tests, stretches and strength building. You gave them loose affirmations and took the potions without putting up too much of a fight, given that the wing still ached slightly. Two days of rest had done a lot for the healing process, but it would take at least a week before it was fully healed. 

The short walk to the war tent was cold as the mist of rain poured down. Many of the soldiers were inside or drunkenly asleep in the mud. Sitting around and waiting was not an ideal situation with a thousand males ready to fight all around. 

You pushed open the tent, shaking out your jacket on the pelt rug. Earning a scowl from the high lord, seated at the head of the table again. "This one tells me you were a sight to see in the skirmish." He said, gesturing to the shadow master. 

You glanced to Azriel, his face was blank but his cheeks had gone a duskier shade of brown. "But maybe I took that the wrong way, and what he meant was that you were a disaster, considering someone managed to put a hole in to your wing." He laced his fingers together in front of him. You curled your lip at him, ready to tell him to get his ass out there and do it himself then. 

Before you could, Azriel turned to the high lord, opening his mouth to protest but he was quickly silenced by Rhysand's dagger like eyes. The shadowmaster pressed his full lips together tightly. Looked to his feet, as if in shame. It made your head thrum with adrenaline filled rage. Rhysand - the most powerful high lord in history - coudlnt get off his ass to take care of some second class Attors himself? Perfect. Just your luck. Being hired out like the hundreds of your kind before you, only it was worse because you weren’t even getting any gold from it.

"We now have a bigger force than originally planned coming directly at us." He said softly, a dark wind organizing enemy pawns on the table to show where they spread out. how they had your forces stuck against a wall of mountains.

 "Because you were brave enough to somehow miss the group of Attors flying away..." He glared those snake eyes at Azriel again, then Rhys let out a bitter laugh. He was upset, understandably so. You could admit that. But it wasn't your fault he decided not to believe you in the first place. 

You glanced to Azriel. His face was grave as his high lord tore into both of you with a tone of a disappointed parent. Like your parent. The thought of your father made your jaw clench, your teeth grind together as you fought to not begin screaming at Rhysand.

"The two of you will see to it that this is taken care of." He took a breath, gesturing to the pawns on the table. "There is a ravine to the west of here-" His dark gifts had the pawns lifting in the air. A fist of fear clenched your stomach. You had forgotten just HOW powerful he was.

"If you cut off the bridges their advancement will be paralyzed. We then may be able to regroup and massacre our way through this group here-" He pointed to the north, a smaller force lay there. Without the flanking force able to be a threat behind you it would work. Your strategist mind flushed out the plan.

 "I expect you both to fix this - as you both caused this issue. I want it done before dawn comes." The pawns he held in the air turned to dust on the table, making a neat pile before the dark lines that indicated the ravine. Hitting his point home, in a non subtle way you supposed. Arrogant cock of a high lord.

"It will work, Rhys." Cassian said softly. He glanced to Azriel. His eyes were pinned to your wing. Your stomach flipped, you glared at Rhys. Before you could call out his plans' faults - or how terribly he was treating you and your considerable 200 units in his army- you saw Cassian shaking his head slightly at you. He rested a hand on Rhys' shoulder. The gesture stood out. The cocky high lord had a sensitive side, perhaps. Your lip curled at the thought.

As if sensing your disgust with him, Rhysand's lip curled "Now get out." He said, voice low and gravely. Cassian gestured for you and Azriel to follow him out. Rhysand reminded you so much of your own father it made you want to spit. A territorial, abusive cock without enough dignity to spare your family name.

You took a deep breath of cold air, hoping to clear your mind. It did little to shake the tension in your shoulders, or the stiffness in your jaw. Making a mental checklist of the weapons you needed to bring, you noticed Azriel following you. Or seeming to.

The shadow singer stalked past your tent, going to the west where the bridges were. "What are you doing?" You asked, jogging to catch up with him. He was already fording through the tall shrubs and grasses by the time you caught up. 

"Taking care of it. I can fix it myself." He growled. You tried to keep up with him, but the jostling was upsetting your injury. 

You put a hand on his shoulder, "Wait, hey." He shrugged you off, scoffing to himself. "I should have gone alone in the first place. I dont understand why he had to send you." He muttered, stalking deeper into the forest. The rain didn't reach you here, under the darkening shadows and mist.

Rage erupted inside you at his words - and you called out the only thing you could think of that might stop him. If he wanted to fight he could damn well stop and have an actual fight with you. "I guess you are just like all the other Illyrians after all." Your blood rushed in your ears, seeming to dampen the sound of everything. The dull hiss of the rain hitting the trees above was barely audible. 

He stood rigid, wings flaring over his shoulders, growing larger with the shadows writing around them. "Do you even have a clue what real Illyrians would do to you right now if you were talking to them like this? What a normal male would do?" He was close. Too close for comfort. Too close to not be fighting or fucking. 

"Considering my father was a very real Illyrian, yes" He stuttered at that. You'd never seen him do such a thing. It would have been funny if that angry set of his features didnt come back. You were ready for more fighting, more yelling but his face went slack, and his eyes met yours finally. They were no longer the cold dark color like in the tent with Rhysand. They were a hazel that matches the warm colors of pine bark in summer. Your heart clenched at the sight of it.

"You're like the Peacemakers, then." He muttered, referencing the old tales of mighty warriors with mixed breeding. Unfortunately a lot of that breeding was not willing. It usually never was, and it had ruined two generations of Illyrian and Peregyn pairings. "Axios was always my favorite." He smiled at the memory. You bit your lip, remembering the true stories of each hero. Not the bastardized verisons peddled throughout the realm.

The offspring became ostracized and cast out of most communities. On Prythian and on the continent. The ones who survived long enough to become trainable though were given the name Peacemakers for a reason. Known for hired bloodletting, no questions asked. 

"I hope your end is not met like theirs." He seemed to shudder at the thought. All the anger boiled out of you at his concern. 

You felt the shame begin to creep up around you. You had sold your services to make ends meet at times. It always left you with a sickening feeling in your gut after. As if the Mother herself was disappointed. "You can help that not happen." You said softly, voice barely audible. If you weren't so deep into the forest you doubted even his shadows could have heard you. "I need.. I need to find my father." Your voice trembled, he approached you slowly. Like he was approaching a wild animal. 

"It might seem-" He began coaxing, holding a hand out to you. Just like he had the other night. A question, a temptation. 

"I know your pain, shadowsinger." You took his hand, letting him lead you to a fallen tree. The soft moss growing on it was a welcome seat after walking for so long following him into the woods. "He would beat my mother and would pluck her feathers." You were grateful for your mother every second she put into resisting his influence for you. For keeping him at bay until you grew enough to be sent to the Peregryn camps for training. She never revealed your cross breeding, only that you had your wings and could use them well. Only because she had taught you. 

Azriel was quiet for a long moment, his shadows moving slowly like waves around your ankles together. "I'm - sorry.. .about your mother. I didn't know." He whispered, pausing and cursing to himself. "I can help you find him. We can look, but we need to get through those enemy lines first. I need you to help me do that." He grasped your hand lightly, as if asking.

 "Lets slice some attor, I guess." You sniffed, the cold making your nose run. At least, you blamed it on that.

+

The camp was mostly asleep by the time you got there. Under the cover of nightfall you were able to silently end most of the Fae that lurked in the camp. With everything going so smoothly, your heart lurched at the sight of Azriel falling backwards, a calling horn in his hand. His siphons flared, and it shattered. But left his siphons dull. He winced as he rolled out of the winging range of a fellow Illyrian with a flail in one hand and a mace in the other.

"Traitorous bastard." Azriel grappled with the Illyrian commander, but they were evenly matched. They knew all the same moves, sparring and sword wise. You launched yourself through the scattered bodies lining the clearing, dodging over puddles of blood and forgotten weapons. The commander had Azriel in a hold that had his wings flipped outward, and the male took the opportunity. He pressed his boot against Az's back and pulled them backward, bending them father than was natural. You roared, not bothering to waste the time to draw your weapon. 

You barreled into him, Azriels hands still reaching backwards to claw at his hands. He toppled over a stack of bodies, yanking you down with him. You scrambled away from him, hands clambering for any weapon. By the time you turned back around to face him, Azriel had already put him on his knees before you. Bending the males wings back just as he had done to the shadow singer.

Your borrowed blade went through his throat, pinning him to the ground as he kneeled. He looked like a statue in the position.  

You spat on the body. "Dont touch wings, asshole." You muttered. Azriel stared at you, as if in shock. You picked up a better looking sword from the ground nearby, wiping it on the cloth inside of your armor sleeve. "What?" You asked. Azriel seemed stunned silent. He seemed shocked in place. After you were sure there were no rogues readying to flee or informants spying, You took a breath, returning to him where he still stood beside the body of the commander.

You pointed back at the winged body speared to the ground behind him. Smiling, you titled the pose. "A prayer to the mother." His eyes went somehow even wider. 

Then he broke out in laughter. You couldnt help but join him, the high of battle making you both delirious. You laughed at his laugh, the stupid face he made laughing back at you. Laughed at the half spoken words that were cut off by more breathless giggles. 

Your sides ached by the time you both sat around the enemy fire, enjoying their spoils of war from a nearby town. The roasted duck smelled particularly good. Azriel heated a pot of tea over the coals, throwing in fresh pine needles from a tree nearby. 

"You know-" He handed you your cup of tea. It was warm in your palm, but his hands were still somehow hotter than the boiling water. He blew on his cup, the steam not going much farther than what his shadows allowed. They seemed to almost play in it. "I am sorry about your mother. I understand why you regard some of us with such...distaste." He put the lid back on the pot and took it off the fire. He looked so natural doing...normal things. Not just posturing for his court and killing. 

You nodded in thanks, not needing too many words with him. "She fled the week after I was formally invited to train in the Peregryn ranks. He found her, and killed her for leaving him. My court holds no rules against such things. He hasn't suffered for it." Your voice shook at the end. "Yet, that is. This.." You gestured to the battlefield, the bodies behind you. "This is just along the way. Killing him will be my destiny. My retribution for my mother." You sipped your tea, letting the burn of it sink in. You hoped it would warm your insides.

"I miss my mother as well." He said, taking a gingerly sip of his tea. He stretched his wings, you could tell by the hesitant way he folded them back in that they pained him. You made a mental note to give him one of your healing potions when you returned to camp.

You sat in silence with him until that fire burned out, and only dull coals were left.

+

"I'm glad you both seemed to have fun. Is the camp clear?" Cassian hissed, following you to the war tent. You sipped your mead, nodding. "Yes, oh strategic one. The bridges are cut too, courtesy of yours truly." You winked at him, making him stop in his tracks. Azriel patted him on the shoulder without a word, then followed you into the tent where Rhys waited. Wrathful or not, you knew he had no rights to tell you off this time. 

Azriel's hazel eyes met your own as you entered the tent together.

[mothergayselle]

I Said... Hold Still // Obey Me // MC x Lucifer

rating: t words: 3.5k summary: takes place during the furry event, MC does the boys’ makeup for the video but takes *special care* with lucifer’s

xxx

“Stop squirming, Levi. You’re going to smear everything and then I’m going to get mad.”

Leviathan blushed, visibly racked with the desire to fidget in the chair. “I can’t help it,” he said, crossing and uncrossing his ankles, which clunked into hers. “You’re so close to my face.”

A scoff audibly sounded off in the background, and the unmistakable tenor of Mammon’s voice filled the dining room. 

“Yeah. A little too close, eh? Back off, Levi!”

Freya sighed. As long as Levi’s face was scrunched with annoyance, it’d be impossible to apply any more makeup to it. She paused, her hand a patient dove hovering in the air, coasting, while Levi replied.

“I’m not doing anything! You back off, stupid scumbag!”

“Hey! Ya gotta stop callin’ me that! Or else!”

“Or else, what? What are you going to do to me?”

The demon-princes were scattered throughout the entirety of the ornate, elaborate dining room, yet the collective sigh uttered by every mouth was a palpable hurricane churning in the air above them. A violent, fiery blush creeped into Levi’s neck, and Freya stilled her hand once more as he ducked his head in embarrassment.

She had to force herself not to sigh herself. “Relax, Levi. I’m not going to attack you.”

“Yes, hun, but that he wishes you would is the point,” said a voice from the opposite corner. A slash of daylight pierced through the window in front of him, illuminating the slender curve of his body. Even in that ridiculous costume. Asmodeus.

“If you know what I mean,” he finished. Freya didn’t have to look to know he was probably winking at them. The sunlight did nothing to illuminate the dripping sin of his voice.

Freya ignored the fresh wave of blood washing over Levi’s face, deepening the red even further. All that was needed was a quick blending of the brow-powder, and he’d be done, though if these idiots kept on rambling she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to get him to hold still.

Even now, he seemed to vibrate in place, although he managed to keep himself in place enough to refrain from fidgeting. Freya worked as fast as possible, working as casually as she could without smudging the lines. If they could keep their mouths shut for once in their goddamn life--

“If what you mean is kissing, then yes. We do get what you mean. Levi, at least attempt to not think about it.”

xxx

read on AO3

xxx

…..

SATAN, you motherFU--

“No one is kissin’ ANYONE, do ya hear me!?”

“Oo-oh, how scandalous!! I want to see someone kiss!”

“Okay, tell me I didn’t wake up from a nap just to hear about Freya kissing someone!”

“Relax, Belphie. No one is kissing.”

“Ya damn straight, no one is kissing. Not ever! If Freya is kissin’ anyone it’s gonna be m--”

“Me! It’d be me! After all, who wouldn’t want to kiss me?”

“Enough.”

As Lucifer silenced the room, Freya shot Satan a glare, who returned the gesture with a grin so warm you’d never know how on purpose that truly was. What an arsonist. Truly. It was practically art.

The dining room was momentarily cast in shadow -- Freya looked beyond a mortified Levi to see a thick wall of cloud oozing across the sky. A frown tugged the corners of her lips down.

“All right, you lot,” said Lucifer. His voice crawled into the spaces around them like congealed molasses. “Clear out. Diavolo wants to start shooting as soon as possible.”

The most awkward of silences left the dining room charged and heavy, and all but Levi and Lucifer started towards the main hall.

Meanwhile, Freya wanted to be conscientious of his personal boundaries -- as he so often said he didn’t like to be touched -- but Freya wasn’t just about to let Levi leave after that. 

“Hey, look up for me one more time before you go.”

She and Lucifer made zero comments about how dark his skin had become in embarrassment -- magenta would be too fitting for comfort. Freya, in her peripherals, saw how Lucifer pretended to preen himself in a corner away from them, adjusting and then readjusting his feline costume so it couldn’t possibly fall any straighter or more crisp on the lines of his body.

Levi complied, absolutely rock-frozen as he titled his eyes to the ceiling. Even the inner workings of his jaw were inert with strain. 

“Did you know,” Freya began, dabbing ice-silver highlighter to his waterline, “That giraffes throw up on a regular basis?”

She was momentarily met with silence as Levi made himself unclench his teeth. “Giraffes?”

“Mhm. An animal in the human realm. Really long neck. Think of a horse with a snake-neck.”

“Whoa. That sounds like a final boss or something. If their neck is so long, how do they not suffocate then?” 

It was working -- his skin was clearing of blush, returning to a lovely cream-shade which she always thought brought out the gold in his eyes so well. Freya, in an effort to dispel some of his shame, didn’t meet his eyes when they gazed at her out of curiosity. She prodded the outside corner of his eye with the same highlighter, tapping the glimmer into place.

“Well… that’s what I wanted to know, so I researched it for awhile. They have a bunch of spaces in their stomach so as they digest food, they puke it up into their mouth and then eat it all over again. Bizarre, right?”

Levi’s subsequent grin made itself onto her face as well, though she was careful to still avoid his direct gaze. And, was that Lucifer’s cheeks lifted in the over corner over there, or was that her own imagination?

“That sounds like Beel,” he said, beaming at her.

“They were my favorite animal for awhile after that, just because I would always laugh when I thought of it. In an environmental class back home we studied this, and as soon as it was brought up, I just couldn’t stop laughing. I got kicked out of class.”

“OMG,” Levi said. “That is hilarious! LOLOL, like, I totally would’ve lost it too.”

“It’s ridiculous. But it does make me smile, even to this day. Maybe it’ll help you too now.”

Levi’s answer was something soft in his eyes, like a window being opened.

Freya snapped the ridiculously expensive highlighter palette closed, absentmindedly making a note to somehow manipulate Asmo into getting her one just like it. 

She tried to refrain from kissing anyone in the academy but that palette… perhaps kissing was not beneath her after all...

“‘Kay. You’re good to go!”

The clogged energy tangibly evaporated as they both righted themselves in the chairs, widening the amount of space between them. Levi didn’t look fully recovered -- his movements were a little too fast, a bit too premature. 

However, as he stood up to join the others, the dread from earlier wasn’t etched onto the crevices of his face, and he smiled before heading out the door.

“Thanks, Freya! Seriously.” He dashed through the entryway, the joyful spring under his feet practically palpable.

The next breath was drawn in through the nose. Freya turned to the impromptu makeup station Asmodeus had set up for her earlier in the morning once more.

“Okay, lurker,” she called out. “Sit your butt down before I decide I don’t want to do this anymore and set fire to the building so Diavolo will send me away.”

The waxed, polished, impeccable hardwood floors clapped his shoes in greeting with every intentional footfall. Even from the side while she retrieved more eyeshadow, she could see the grimace on his mouth. He was staring straight through her.

“Not funny.”

Freya couldn’t help but grin as she swiveled the chair to face him.

“It was funny, but we both know you wouldn’t admit it even if you agreed so let’s get to business, shall we?” Freya held up a pen of liquid eyeliner for him to see.

Lucifer made no further comment, but she could’ve sworn his jaw looked like it wanted to come undone in a smile, just for a second. He nodded, burgundy eyes locked onto her face.

“Scoot closer. This always sucks the most.”

When he complied, their legs were utterly entangled, each thigh resting lightly against the other’s. Freya didn’t stop or make a comment -- she knew the rules of the game with him and wasn’t going to lose because of that.

If anything, the contact excited her. She’d be close enough to catch any reaction he made, scrutinize every inch of his visage for a sign of victory. When one edge of his mouth lazily pulled to the side in the faintest smirk she’d ever seen, an impish gesture, she knew he was on the same wavelength.

Freya leaned in, closing the distance between their faces until the warm billows of his breath collided gently over her cheeks.

“Don’t mind me,” she said, bringing a hand to cup the cheek opposite the eye she was going to start on. “I have to steady myself because I had a lot of coffee this morning and I can feel myself about to have a seizure.”

Lucifer did smile at that, and she mirrored him as her fingers slipped through the hair at the back of his head. Silk. Fresh rain. A bubble of clouds. There didn’t seem to be a description accurate enough to articulate the softness of each strand. Her palm came to rest on his jaw.

The dick part of her wanted to ask what kind of conditioner he used, to purposely destroy the playful tension, if only to mitigate the effect the intimacy had on her. It was certainly a go-to, and she had half a mind to blurt it out when his expression suddenly changed.

“That was kind of you,” Lucifer murmured, and she could practically feel the heat of his red gaze wash through her, “What you did for Levi. Comforting him so as to not embarrass him further.”

An unwanted softness expanded in the pit of her belly and her hand momentarily haltered all movement. She drew back to look at him, and felt her waggish expression melt into something more like his own.

Freya’s gaze tugged down at their legs, spidered out in a flamboyant web of limbs. “I’m all for a good roast, but they should be more mindful with how often they pick on him. He already has super bad self-esteem.”

Lucifer grimaced as pain, sympathetic, cracked across her face. “That he does.”

“Makes me want to punch him,” she mumbled, almost inaudibly. Exhaling, Freya lifted the eyeliner pen to Lucifer once more, tracing a thin cat-eye along the edge of his lashes. 

“If he says that he’s too gross to love one more time, I will use our pact to make him do daily affirmations until he stops. I’m not above that.”

It was a while before Lucifer reacted to that, and a few moments of silence soothed the spaces around them. When he seemed to smile, Freya kept wordless and leaned in further, cleaning up the sharp edge of the wing at his eye. If she leaned in any further, her lips would brush across his cheek. Adrenaline flooded her belly.

“Not the worst way to exploit your authority, I suppose.”

“Hell yeah. Call me the demon-whisperer, improving internal dialogue one Avatar at a time.”

She withdrew her hand just in time -- Lucifer’s cheeks avalanched in the expansion of a smile, twisting his mouth until the ivory-white of his teeth was exposed. Another grin, another victory.

“Sounds like quite the endeavor.”

“Quite right, Watson. Okay, done with that,” Freya said, ignoring his momentary confusion and scooting herself back to the pile of makeup. She exchanged the eyeliner for a pastel palette before picking up a small, fluffy brush.

“All Diavolo wanted was a mutuality between species, and here you are trying to rehabilitate the princes of Hell into developing a more healthy sense of self,” he mused. 

Lucifer’s warm eyes lowered and tracked Freya’s movements as she closed in and began dabbing at his eyelids with a pale lavender color, which accentuated the darkness of his burgundy irises so nicely it was obscene.

Did she look as beautiful to him as he did to her?

“Oh, dear,” he chuckled. “Where did you go?”

It was just then that Freya realized she hadn’t been applying the makeup on him so much as she was staring at it.

“What’s wrong? Did the artistry of your own handiwork distract you?” His full lips twisted into a more mocking version of his earlier grin.

“Or is it simply my natural beauty you find so interesting?”

A low, humming laugh churned in the bottom of his throat as Freya’s nose wrinkled itself at him.

“Actually, I was just thinking that if this film wins first place, the entire Devildom will be witness to you and all of your furry glory.”

All of the mirth fled from Lucifer’s face as she spoke. Dark strands of aura collected around the crown of his head before winking out of existence. 

“It’s an exciting thought, right?”

When his eyelids lowered, Freya leaned back in, blending in a blue pastel with the first. The air around him sizzled with tension that dripped off of his body. “As the film stands, there is almost a statistical impossibility that it will win the competition,” he drawled. So confident. 

“So, basically, it’s a non-issue.”

“You really believe Diavolo -- or Barbatos for that matter -- who are obsessed with this project, couldn’t or wouldn’t pull strings in our favor?” The hand on his jaw exploded with invisible flame as she shifted it for no other reason than she wanted to--

Lucifer froze. Freya pretended to be absorbed in her work and readjusted her fingers -- a mere twitch of the extremity -- slipping several of them in the hollow under his ear while anchoring her thumb so that the pad of the fingertip framed the corner of his mouth.

A triumphant fanfare burst in her head. She got him, caught him off-guard. Enchanted him. The world was correct once more.

“Diavolo is a noble man,” she started, sweeping away the fallout with her knuckles. She caressed the soft skin under his eyes gently, with care. “But men like him -- the ones who proclaim to uphold truth and transparency…”

Lucifer did not move, even as she playfully tapped the tip of his nose with the makeup brush.

“Those are the ones you can’t trust.”

A few short moments passed before Lucifer spoke again.

“I don’t know what demons you’ve been hanging around,” he began, leaning forward an inch. “But some of us are perfect gentlemen.” 

He was playing with her. 

Do not look at his lips, do not look at his lips.

The brush in her hand lowered as Freya also leaned in, matching Lucifer’s bluff, and the crimson glow of his eyes was soon all she could see, rather than the eyes themselves.

“I’ve only met one perfect gentleman in my entire life. He was a golden retriever.”

She saw the curve of his eyes when he smirked.

“You clearly need better friends.”

“How fortunate I was kidnapped and brought here, then.”

“How fortunate, indeed.”

“Hey, are you guys going to kiss?”

The shock of the intrusion jolted both Lucifer and Freya, nearly pressing them together, so… maybe?

Lucifer recovered first, smoothly straightening in his chair like a candle wick burning true.

“What do you want, Asmo?”

Of course it was Asmo.

When Freya settled, returning the makeup brush to the tray, she saw Asmodeus hovering in the dining room’s entrance, the gold of his hair casting ethereal arcs of color across the archway.

His eyes were wide with curiosity. “Well, first, I want to see you kiss, but I also came to tell you Diavolo wants to start filming now.” Asmo’s gaze flickered back and forth between them.

“Tell Diavolo we’re on our way,” Lucifer said, saying nothing of the lewd request. After a tense moment and a hard glare, Asmo drifted off, the whites of his eyes revealed in an impressive arc.

“He realizes he can just kiss people, right?”

She couldn’t help but grin at the blank expression coating over Lucifer’s visage.

“He realizes,” Lucifer said. “It seems as if voyeurism is a big interest of his, however.”

Freya accidentally snorted. “I don’t know what isn’t.”

“Manners, perhaps.”

Someone sighed. Freya wasn’t sure if it was her or Lucifer. Eventually, the two shared a glance and his eyebrows rose in question.

“Is my makeup adequate enough for filming?” The brows remained high on his forehead, now teasing more than anything else.

Freya instinctively raked his features, looking for any asymmetrical flaws or lopsided shadow. There was nothing but a fleeting suspicion that it was only Lucifer’s immaculate complexion which completed the makeup, rather than the other way around. He wore the makeup, rather than the makeup highlighting the beauty already there. How ridiculous.

“One more thing, actually.”

The lazy affect warped into confusion, narrowing his features, and then awe, expanding them back again. Freya had darted in the space between their bodies, one finger somehow already dipped into a cherry-colored lip stain, and she began tapping the pigment onto Lucifer’s bottom lip, ignoring the way his mouth parted with shock.

“To match your eyes.”

He remained silent while he composed himself, drawing back his eyebrows and lips to a close. Freya forced her face to remain stoic -- the relish of eliciting these kinds of reactions was a special sort of drug, but to keep him playing along, she had to forfeit a few her victories to soften the blow to his ego. Demon of Pride and all. She was more than happy to keep up with him. Her giant ego demanded it.

As if he could hear her thoughts, Lucifer probed her gaze with his own, scrutinizing the miniscule movements her every facial feature made, but she gave away nothing. He was content to hold still until she was finished with him, smiling politely, the warmth not touching his eyes.

“And none for yourself?” he chirped.

Freya’s gaze darted to the makeup tray at her side, but a warm hand had gripped her chin and forced her head back to Lucifer. A swarm of butterflies awoke in her diaphragm.

“You dote on all of us so much,” he pronounced slowly, casually, bringing his thumb to his mouth. “But it seems as if you are often left wanting, isn’t that right?”

Heat so hot it was ice overturned her nervous system, bringing it to a halt. “It isn’t that bad. Beel buys me food. Asmo gives me clothes. Luke and Barbatos bake me whatever I want.”

Freya frantically attempted to memorize the feeling of his thumb brushing over her lips. Did he feel this tense when she’d done this, like a worn outlet ready to spark? She waited until he was satisfied to speak.

“I’d say I have it pretty good.”

Lucifer smirked, clearly unconvinced. He reached over her, grabbing a wipe from the table and cleaning his hand. Their faces were momentarily close once again, and the cologne from his neck wafted over her skin. So rich, like sandalwood, but faint at the same time. Noncommittal. It was a perfect scent for him.

When his gaze lowered to her mouth and back up again, she thought her form would explode.

“Hm. I’m not sure all of that’s an equal exchange, though.” He stared at her in bewilderment.

“... What?” Suddenly, she was too conscious of herself. Why did he look at her like that? Was he unsatisfied with the color or something?

She heard the roll of his stool before registering he’d placed his palms on her shoulders. They felt like boulders and feathers and as if they should be there all the time, keeping her from floating away in her wild fantasies of abandoning the human world so she could stay there forever. It was just like giraffes. Ridiculous… right?

“Your hair.”

Eh?

Lucifer’s eyes were sure and steady as they raked over her again and again.

“It should be down for the fight scene. When you faint, it should cover your face, create some symbolism there.”

… Interesting. She didn’t know he thought about details like that. Wasn’t this more of Asmo’s territory? Still, Lucifer had a point. She’d only braided that morning because it was convenient, getting too long and too curly for comfort.

“How dramatic,” she replied, chuckling at his sincerity. “You’re right, though. Obscuring the face makes a much bigger statement to the audience. Creates lots of tension.”

Lucifer’s knees knocked against hers, two entities floating alone in the ocean, and he moved his hands to the hair-ties at the end of her french braids. 

They were dexterous, slipping off the rubber and untangling the curls without tugging on a single one. Goosebumps seeped through her skin, giving her a full-body euphoria. 

If she was being honest, even this simple gesture had her feeling pampered, taken care of. It resembled nothing of the food or retail items she was frequently gifted with, although those were of course, appreciated.

No, this was like... communion. A merging of two. Freya found that she couldn’t muster a smirk or a smart-ass retort as Lucifer slipped his fingers through her hair, arranging it in perfect pieces that cascaded over her jaw. She felt she wanted to sleep instead. Take a nap. Fall asleep to the sensation of him there, soothing her into unconsciousness. 

Ah. Any feeling of victory disappeared in an instant. This was too close to real intimacy to be a game.

Lucifer adjusted the curls one final time before gently extracting himself from her space. There wasn’t any trace of mischief on his face either, or deception, or avarice. 

She caught herself absently grooming herself of invisible lint or stray hair in the moments after. It seems as if their communion was finished, and they were to get on with their mission for the day.

“Well,” Freya said, steadily rising to her feet. She extended a hand in his direction. “Ready to go to war over me?”

Lucifer’s subsequent smile radiated mirth. “Of course.” He curled his fingers around her palm and rose to face her.

“I always defend what is mine. To the death.”

An unexpected giggle erupted from him at the shock rapidly freezing her expression.

“I’m joking, Freya. I’m ready. Let’s do it.”

Lucifer jesting? How novel.

With her hand in his, they began making their way out of the dining room. The sun was out -- its light had finally defeated the storm clouds before it.

“Call me Helen, I guess.”

Their voices ricocheted off the elaborate carvings etched into the doorway.

“... You know the story of Troy, ri--”

“--Yes, Freya, I get the referen--”

“--Okay, cool. That would’ve been weird. I hate explaining jokes.”

[sirthisisa-wendys]

The Sacrifice: Part 7.5 (Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader)

synopsis: Sometimes, fear drives people away. Other times, it brings you together.

wc: 1.5k

tw: NSFW

masterlist

“You really know your way around a staff,” Nobara pants, and you swing at her without mercy.

“My father taught me as a child how to defend myself,” you reply, remembering the hot evenings spent in the front lawn of your home, swinging at your father before...

“Yes, but he did not teach you to set the offensive, did he?” Nobara catches you off guard with her staff, knocking you flat on your back. “You’re facing powerful gods, y/n. You must know how to catch them off-guard.” You nod, understanding your next task. Catch a god off-guard.

“Toji is nothing if not sneaky,” Yuta adds, crossing his arms over his chest. “He will use every opportunity to get you alone and then strike where you’re weakest.”

He’s already done that, you want to say, but you keep your mouth closed as you rise from the ground.

“I think that’s enough for today,” Norbar sighs, brushing her short hair out of her face. “You did well.”

Hand-to-hand combat with Gojo had not gone so well, however. You remember how he made you eat dirt five times before you gave up, laying on your face with no way to rise from the ground except to tap out.

“You’ll get better,” he lied, but you didn’t mind. You were never good at close-quarters combat anyways. You had always been handy with an object in your grip, but hand-to-hand combat is what got you caught stealing in the first place. No point in using it now.

Not when you had a god who wanted you dead.

_____________________________________________________________

The day blows past you like the wind, and you realize it’s bedtime as soon as Gojo ghosts your letter off to the realm of the Dragon God.

My dearest, you replied.

Please do not tell a single soul about what transpired. I am fine, he did not harm me. I look forward to seeing your face in two days when we can talk about this further.

Sincerely,

y/n

You lean back on your pillows, blinking at the setting sun slowly. Your muscles are sore, but the entire experience was worth the pain. You knew in just a few days, you would be ready to take on Gakuganji and rid your town of the corrupt man forever, thus freeing them from his commands. As you settle in for a night of deep sleep, you hear the curtains whisper against the floor and you instinctively shoot up, expecting Toji to reveal himself from a darkened corner.

Instead, you see a long-haired shadow walk through the barely-there material, and your heart quickens - in a good way.

“Suguru?” you whisper as he walks toward you quickly, hands capturing your face when he gets to your bed. He kisses you deeply, holding you close as his tongue swipes at your bottom lip. You give him permission to deepen the kiss, and he does, almost pulling you out of the bed with his grip. When he finally lets you go, you lean your cheek into his hand and murmur, “Why are you here?”

“I had to see that you were okay for myself. I haven’t been able to sleep since--” You press a long kiss to his palm, hoping this would reassure him of your unharmed state.

“I’m fine, my love,” you breathe. Suguru closes his eyes and exhales deeply, like a weight lifted off of his shoulders.

“That’s all I need to know,” he replies, pressing his forehead to yours. “That’s all.” He stays there a second more before straightening up and letting go of you. “I’m going back home. Do you need anything from there before tomorrow?”

“Suguru,” you murmur, and he raises a brow. “Do not tell me you came all this way and you won’t spend the night with me.”

“I really shouldn’t,” the Dragon God mutters, looking away. “You’ll need all of your focus on the task at hand, and I--”

“Stay the night with me,” you state, heart thumping wildly in your chest. “Please.” A moment of hesitation passes before he sighs, climbing into the bed next to you.

“We must sleep, and only that,” he rumbles, spooning you from behind. You nod, agreeing to his demands as you drift off to sleep in his arms.

_____________________________________________________________

But of course, you awake in the middle of the night, feeling him move ever so slightly as a need builds in your core. You turn over to face Suguru, hoping his eyes would flutter open in the moonlight. To your delight, they do, and they focus on you instantly.

“Y/n,” he breathes, but you’re closing the space between you with your lips, hoping he would follow your lead and just give in to the building sensations. “You need to rest,” he gasps between kisses, but you ignore him, hands wandering around his body and up to his chest.

“Make love to me,” you plead, and he hums low in his throat, his hands holding you close. “I need you, Suguru.” Your admission obviously drives him wild as he tears off your clothing in a rush and litters your neck with hickies, making you feel as if you’re the prey and he’s some sort of predator.

“These few days without you…” he begins, panting. “...they’ve been hell.”

“I’m right here,” you reassure him, and he kisses your flesh eagerly, whispering soft words of praise. “I’m not going anywhere.” When his fingers find your core and yours find his length, you both begin your small symphony of teasing out the sounds of ecstasy from each other. In the room, there’s nothing else and no one else. The both of you are in each other’s arms, relishing in the touches and gasps of pleasure.

“Come here,” Suguru breathes. “Straddle my face.”

“Straddle your…?” You watch as he gets out of the bed and repositions himself so that he’s facing your core and you’re facing his cock, settling your hips directly over his mouth with ease.

“Lean back for me,” he urges, and you do so, wrapping a hand around him and stroking his length easily. When his tongue settles into your heat, you moan loudly, forgetting everything you set out to do before that moment. Suguru licks at you with precision, knowing just where to press and how to slide his tongue so you’re left dangling on the edge of oblivion with only one thought bouncing around in your head.

More.

His cock twitches in your hand, as if it wishes to remind you of your inattentiveness, and you latch your lips around it, sucking the tip easily. Geto hisses beneath you, taking a breath to inhale, then beginning his licking again. And as the strange sensation builds in your stomach again, you make it known that you’re enjoying the feeling he’s giving you as you moan around his cock.

“You want to cum for me, don’t you?” The sound of Suguru’s voice is heady and laced with lust, and you nod, head moving back and forth as you suck him off. “Go ahead, my love.” You inhale, feeling a finger enter you. His tongue moves from your cunt to your clit, and the finger strokes your insides like before, except there’s something new… something he’s doing that makes your hips jerk. And you’re losing it before you can even fathom what’s happening, clenching around his finger rapidly.

“Unh, Su…” you groan, and he chuckles, sinking his finger deeper into you.

“Give me another one.” The command is met with the shaking of your thighs, and Suguru moans lewdly. When you’re done cumming, he slides from underneath you and presses your body down onto the bed before lifting your hips. “I’m going to take you from behind.”

“Please,” you whine, and he nestles himself inside of you easily, using your cum as lube. The sound he makes when he sinks into you is absolutely sinful, and you suddenly realize what Toji meant when he said “unholy”.

But you don’t want to be holy.

You don’t want to be right.

You want to be Suguru’s, and that’s all that matters.

“Look at me.” You look over your shoulder at the god behind you, your hips bouncing off of him in the moonlight. “No one will have you except me. I won’t let Toji lay a finger on you.”

All you can do is moan in response, your stomach fluttering with something… something… Why can't you reply?

“No matter what he said, you’re mine, and I’m yours.” Tears prick at your eyes as you let the words sink in, and your right hand flies to his, which is holding your hip. You can’t reply, but you nod over and over again, never once tearing your eyes away from Suguru’s. Not even when you cum for the second time. Geto cums with you, cock spasming wildly inside of your cunt as he grunts loudly. When you both lay on the bed, spent, Geto whispers breathlessly,

“I’ll protect you from danger, y/n. Just stay with me… stay with me.”

“I will,” you exhale softly, curling into his chest as he wraps his arms around you protectively and kisses your forehead, sending you off to sleep.

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @sunfloweroranges @jibe-gajima @jotazinha @brownskinnedgirll @leanne-tamashi @vabybizzle @amaris9 @fuegy-fuegy @ambiguous-something @kontentious@missbonekitty @fyotituti @honouredsatoru @sandyscastle @flare-on @sasahime @ggotgame @just4readingfics

[ohnotoomanyfandoms]

Let's talk about those two chapters!!!!!

You ask, we deliver! Let’s talk about my theories from the two preview chapters of Chain of Iron, shall we? So many thoughts, I’ll have to be brief with each one. Feel free to ask questions on anything I don’t mention or clarifications on points I do touch. 

1. Belial. Who is he possessing? James would be so obvious it’s cheap. The fun plot twist would be Lucie, who complained in Chain of Gold that she’s also Belial’s granddaughter. It would go in perfect irony with Lucie’s line to Grace “I don’t want to do evil things” while she runs around being possessed by a Greater Demon killing innocent mundanes (and probably Shadowhunters too) in London. However, as marvelous as this sounds, it appears Belial is possessing a male body (unless it’s just written to mislead us). In that case, my next best guess (and something I DO NOT want happening) would be Matthew. He isn’t a descendant of Belial’s, but he is magically linked to James via the parabatai rune and bond, so that could be a loophole. What made me think that? At the Devil’s Tavern, Matthew wishes James gone for a second, and James ends up in the shadow realm, Belial’s realm, for the first time in four months.

2. There is something FISHY going on with Hypatia and the Helle Ruelle celebrating Lilith. Well, not really that. What stinks is that Cassandra would feel the need to explain Lilith’s history with the angels to us again and that Cordelia would spend another entire paragraph going over the ceremony performed when Shadowhunter babies are born. We know this already. She’s saying it for our benefit and for a reason. Are the warlocks hiding a Shadowhunter baby? Or alternatively, WHO DIDN’T GET THE CEREMONY? This could also be the answer to our previous question, because we know that “unbaptized” babies can be possessed by demons (like Jace after his rebirth in TMI) so it could solve the mystery of Belial’s possession without needing a blood relation. Or... WILL LILIHT MAKE AN APPEARANCE IN COI/COT?

3. Cordelia will go see Wayland the Smith in this book. When? Well, when Cortana starts burning her, of course. She’ll try to find answers everywhere, consulting books, Jem, even friendly warlocks perhaps, but eventually she’ll have to ask that faerie to take her to Wayland, Cortana’s legendary maker, and make a deal. NEVER PROMISE ANYTHING TO FAERIES, DAISY! That will be a mess. 

4. I think the Gracelet doesn’t work in the shadow realm, which confirms that Belial didn’t cast the spell on the bracelet, because surely his magic would work in his own kindgom? James was thinking of the wedding in the tone he would under the effect of the Gracelet, and in the shadow realm he suddenly has a rather romantic view of Cordelia, like an avenging angel or “a goddess captured in a painting: Liberty or Victory leading the people.” Something to keep an eye on.

5. As we know, Grace and Christopher are supposed to get married, according to the misleading family tree. We don’t know if that will end up happening, but I suppose this is how they could grow closer: we know Lucie has been asking Kit for ingredients for their spells. When Lucie inevitably pulls away from the agreement with Grace because she doesn’t yet want to do full-on necromancy (good call, I hope she sticks by it but I doubt she will), Grace will need to ask Christopher directly - she can’t risk being seen at the Shadow Market, given her mother’s history, so he’s her best option. 

6. Filomena di Angelo will be the name of the Italian Shadowhunter, I’m 99.9999999% sure at this point. Am I happy? No. Speaking as an Italian myself, Cassie couldn’t have picked a worse name. (Yes, it makes me smile that she and Rick Riordan exchange character names, but this name still doesn’t sound right or fitting. Happy to elaborate more in another post if you’re interested!)

7. As I’ve said before, to the delight of our Jordelia hearts, James has no intention whatsoever of cheating on Daisy or breaking his promise to her by seeing Grace. Unfortunately, he won’t be able to help it because Grace’s spell will compel him to go see her at one point. Sad angst and a loss of trust will ensue. UNLESS the magic of the MARRIAGE RUNES is stronger than the Gracelet and can counteract it. That would be dope. But that would also mean a win for us, and it’s only the second book... 

8. The Lucie/Jesse content was too on the nose. it’s only the first two chapters and it’s 1903, stop flirting, goddammit. Apart from that, Lucie is being too reckless. She’ll get in trouble soon.

9. Matthew is going to behave with Cordelia. He would and will never put her in a compromising position or one where she would have to choose between him and James. The “”””kiss”””” was accidental, Cassie said as much in a Tumblr answer. I love their friendship, it’s one of my favorites. But trust me, it’s not going to go anywhere beyond that. Matthew may wish, but he will never act. He likes pursuing loves that are “hopeless”, it’s said as much in the text. 

10. ANNA WAS TOTALLY FLIRTING WITH CORDELIA ON THE EVE OF HER WEDDING TO ANNA’S COUSIN, SCANDALOUS

11. Thomas and Alastair will finally speak at the wedding. Not make up yet, but have a conversation. I just hope Charles doesn’t magically come back from Paris to make an appearance.

12. THE NEXT CHAPTER WE READ WILL BE THE JORDELIA WEDDING (!!!) and all the adults will be there so we’ll see all our TID darlings as well. I am prepared to bet anything that Brother Zachariah will officiate the wedding. I cannot wait.

13. What the fùck was up with the reverse mermaid???????????

Need more analysis or clarifications on some points? Want help believing in Mucie and keeping your faith in Jordelia? WE’VE GOT YOU. Send me all your questions. I would prefer non-anonymous ones, so I can notify you! 

[peachy-rambles]

Feral anon again (should I…. Name myself? Working up the courage to send these was a lot but it’s really fun, thank you by the way for having this blog. Your ideas, ramblings and writings always cheer me up when I stalk the tag, and make me smile. I might be sending more in the future too, if that’s okay) But!! New SMP just dropped, there’s Philza, and of course, more ideas! This time more of a cryptid because mans a cave dwelling goblin who gives lectures about lighting safety when he finds the kids have mined tunnels without lighting them and that there’s risks of mobs.

So imagine if you will, a cryptid. Perhaps a bat creature, a cave dweller who has long since gotten used to the glow of lava, the looming shadows and the coal dust that smudges his fingers. Who knows how to navigate the caves and ravines like it’s second nature, loots mine shafts and creates complex builds using the natural resources of the below. Maybe he even makes the rare venture to the surface (dangerous as it is, to grab things to create more under ground) Heck, he can even have set up a main base inside an abandoned stronghold, as they are so often underground, and has restored it into something entirely new and comfortable.

And imagine if you will, in the process of making one of his many vaults, Techno puts his pick axe through the wall, only to find it give way to a tunnel lined with the scratches of a pick. Who’s curiosity drives him to find out who’s down this far (for gods sake his lmanburg vault was near bedrock) and explore deeper into the tunnels. Heck, if you wanna be fancy throw in confusing tunnels, symbols, winding turn backs and call it a labyrinth, and compare it to the tale of Theseus and the Minotaur. But whatever the case is, Techno discovering it, stumbling across these builds, caves full of moss, faintly glowing lichen and odd berries he’s never seen before, huge builds and wondering who did this, who’s down here….. and catching glimpses and slowly finding out about the cryptid of the below. Maybe even befriending him too.

(Phil could entirely have access to the end, to the nether. He could freely dart in and out of those realms, and the idea of Techno finding underground gardens with glooming mushroom lights, twisting purple trees with white flowers and strange fruit, of lichen climbing the walls between hanging glow berries between stalagmites, a mossy carpet between the mossy bricks of the floor and supports on the wall is an incredible mental image. So is the idea of Techno wooing Phil by bringing him flowers from the overworld, plants and other gifts (honey, coral, wool, so many things come to mind) he might not have been able to access down there. Just, so many ideas.)

You can name yourself if you want ^ᴗ^ (I won't assign you as "feral anon" unless you want to be called that asdfghjkl) And thank you, I'm glad to hear my blog makes you smile ; ; And you're totally free to send more asks in the future :3

So anyway.

I genuinely love the idea of cave cryptid Phil!!! Especially if he's like a bat (bat wings and also he'd be v fluffy because bats do be fluffy). Perhaps he's kinda like a Warden as well, and relies heavily on sound (he can see but he doesn't have night vision so it's bad in the caves), and guards the Stronghold (his home) from trespassers. Maybe he makes like a paste from the lichen or something and paints it on himself in certain symbols so he glows in the dark (also makes him look more like a cryptid).

Maybe he finds kids who have made their way underground and have gotten lost, so he helps them find their way back to the surface (or if they have nowhere to go, he let's them stay with him). So that's how tales of this strange cryptid in the dark start to spread.

Techno finding the many tunnels Phil has built and being more and more intrigued, wanting to find the person who built this place. And Phil watches from a distance, curious because most hybrids don't ever willingly explore underground, and this one doesn't seen lost or need help.

I do really love this idea and Techno courting Phil with gifts from the Overworld. What if, he brings Phil a Heart of the Sea!! Which I doubt Phil would have since it requires a treasure map and lots of searching. It's Techno's way of saying, "Hey I really like you, do you maybe like me too?"

(Also for some reason, this idea is giving me Atlantis vibes. Maybe it's just because it's my fav movie but like...Techno being an explorer trying to find a lost underground city and accidentally finding Phil and his underground city? Maybe??? Idk maybe just me asdfghjkl)

[exquisitley-obsessed]

Fiancés, Firebirds, Foxes and Fawns: 6

Author: @exquisitley-obsessed

Summary: A few weeks after Briallyn’s attempt at uniting with Koschei, Lucien opens the door of Lockhart Manor to find Elain, cold from the rain and holding a note from the High Lady of the Night Court demanding her to assist Lucien in building alliances with the human councils. Forced to work together by their exhausted High Lord and Lady, Elain is able to convince anyone to do anything, while Lucien has the acquaintances to go anywhere he likes. Together, they attempt to unite the fae and mortal lands and unravel the deal made between Koschei and Vassa, while Lucien remains haunted by his own promise to Elain’s father. ELUCIEN, POST-ACOSF

Pairings: Elain x Lucien, Elucien

Warnings: None.

A/N: I’ve added a tag list for those who wish to stay updated with this story! Just message me if you wish to be added <3

MY MASTERLIST

THIS FIC’S MASTERLIST

AO3

Chapter Six: Moonlight Meetings

The contracts were beginning to make sense. Turns out, there weren’t nearly as many for Elain to sort through as she first expected. It seemed that the Band of Exiles had had a pretty stagnant first year whilst staying in the mortal lands, with their biggest success lying in the Declaration of Peace Between Fae and Mortal Realms achieved on the anniversary of the Hybern War.

Elain had gone through each contract and made a note of it in her own diary: the contract between the Spring Court and the human lands to organise trade routes in the future, the agreement of a ceasefire on trespassing fae in favour of imprisonment, etc. There had even been copies of contracts between other humans that had most likely occurred at these weekly meetings: such as the Nolan’s agreeing to 100 shipments of Ashwood Weaponry per month to the Darlingtons, and the reinforcement of internal borders.

Elain had sat with Nuala and a few pots of tea in the library, and by the time she stretched her legs to take a turn around the room, the sun was plummeting towards the horizon. She liked it. She liked the feeling of her hand aching from her meticulous note-taking, she liked that the pages of her new notebook (a gift from Rhysand) had slowly began to fill up, she liked that she now had detailed questions to ask Jurian, Vassa and maybe even Lucien.

If anything, she liked that tonight she would sleep, her eyes tired from reading by the candlelight and her brain fizzing with the numbers of stock, armies and debt.

The library was at the back of the house, with delicate yet large glass windows that looked out onto the Manor’s Garden. So far, Elain had avoided the grounds, mostly because one look of the greenery told her that there was nothing for her to do. Whoever tended to these gardens had a similar mind to hers, it was wild and restless. A garden belonging to a true cottage, her father would say.

“Lord Lucien is home,” Nuala’s velvet voice swam into the air as she spoke without looking up from her book. The shadow wraith’s always had been Elain’s closest friends, and she liked the side she got to see of them, the one she was sure no other had yet had the privilege.

“Oh…good,” Elain said non-committedly, forcing her eyes back to her notes which she’d already preened to perfection. Sighing, Elain looked over her and Nuala’s make-shift joint desk, and without thinking, she reached for a local map.

It was strange, to look over a map of lands which felt both so familiar and so foreign. With her finger, Elain could trace the path from her first childhood home, the Manor down by the lake, up and up to their runt of a cottage so close to the border, and then a little east to their other home. Elain’s hand recoiled from the paper. That home was cursed. That was the home from which she had been stolen from.

“Do you miss it, being human?” Nuala asked. Elain peered at her. She’d always found the term ‘lesser fae’ to be entirely unbefitting. Nuala was perhaps the most gorgeous person she’d ever seen; her skin was a deep grey and her hair a shifting black in which shadows seemed to fall in whisps as it moved. Her eyes were uncannily wide, and her irises were of purest black and filled her entire lids.

“I don’t think so,” Elain answered softly, her finger running back to that first home. The home in which her parents were alive and well. “But I avoided coming here for a long while because of that reason.”

“You wanted to go back?” Elain nodded, a small shift of her head.

“Becoming fae didn’t make sense to me for a long time. I didn’t understand how to be fae, despite the body. When I looked around all I could see were my sister’s, who fit in so well at the Night Court and I just…didn’t.” Elain looked at her friend. “I feel terrible about it. About how I tried to come back to Graysen. It was the first time in my life I’d made a stand and it was for something so, hollow.”

“You’re not a terrible person for feeling as though you don’t belong, and wishing that you did.” Nuala tilted her head, her pin straight hair falling with a trained precision across her bare shoulder.

“No, but I feel terrible because…I still feel that way, to some extent.” Elain sighed, tucking up her legs on the chair and leaning her head back.

“I got into a fight with Jurian today – I slapped him -” Elain peeked a look at Nuala and was pleased to see her mouth slightly ajar and her eyes bright with amusement. “I know. But what he said was true, and I can’t stop thinking about it. He saw me during the war and saw how I was so desperate to be human again, and he thinks I’m here for that reason-” Nuala opened her mouth to protest, “I know, it’s stupid, but…what if I am here for that reason, and I just don’t realise it yet? Because Nuala, if I am, I can’t – I can’t forgive myself for that, I can’t do that to-”

Elain cut herself off by biting her tongue. She’d only spent a day and a night in Lockhart Manor, but Elain was sure she could feel the bond. Often she didn’t, then every couple of months, something would happen, she would feel some emotion that wasn’t hers or have dreams of places she’d never been to, and she’d just know that it was him. But being here, actually being around him, she felt herself turning towards him the way flowers turn to the sun.

“I don’t think it’s strange, if you feel you do not belong in the Night Court, to want to belong somewhere else,” Nuala spoke carefully, slowly, as though every word carried weight, “But just because you feel you do not belong in the Night Court, does not mean your only other option is the human lands.”

“What? I might belong somewhere else in Prythian?” Nuala stretched and leaned back in her own chair.

“Prythian is a large place, and you have an eternity ahead of you. You do not need to rush in finding somewhere you can settle, travel around for a bit, see the world. There is not the same pressure for you to be a wife as you had when you were human, maybe you could try just being Elain for a while?” Nuala yawned after she spoke, a sign that she was well and truly relaxed. Elain just hummed, her mind whirring as she looked back at the map, her finger drifting back to that last home, the one she had been ripped from.

Just then Elain noticed how the sun and well and truly dipped behind the horizon, casting the world in shadow. The night sky looked unbearably dull compared to the thriving chaos of the Night Court’s evenings, but there was something familiar in the mundanity, something that allowed Elain to be the magical thing in the world, not the other way around.

“Vassa and Jurian are preparing to leave,” Nuala said without opening her eyes.

“Ugh, teach me your ways.” Elain joked, and a sly smile pulled at the shadow wraith’s lips.

“No, because then you won’t need me, and I won’t get to come with you to see the world.” Elain paused, and looked at her friend.

“You’d come with me?” It was now Nuala’s turn to peer at her.

“Of course, don’t tell the High Lord but, since being Under the Mountain, I’ve rather missed the world, and I’d very much like to see it.”

“I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like,” Elain shivered. She’d never bene able to truly comprehend what had occurred in those 50 years. The idea of her friend being subject to such atrocities for a time longer than she had been alive, it was unfathomable.

“I remember your mate being there,” Nuala said, tentatively. Every muscle in Elain’s body went rigid. She’d assumed, somewhere along the line, that Lucien must’ve been there with Tamlin when they’d been taken, but Feyre had never confirmed, she’d been surprisingly elusive of the specifics of what had occurred. She couldn’t think about it. Because the instant she considered the torture Lucien must’ve faced, she began to feel herself lose control.

“Speaking of your mate,” Nuala murmured, and Elain didn’t miss the slightly pleased look in her friend’s eye at having gotten a reaction out of her.

Just then a knock came from the door casing Elain to turn in her chair sharply, by the time she turned back, Nuala had already disappeared into the shadows.

“No, but thanks for the offer,” Lucien ground out through his teeth. Waiting on the cartographer had taken all day and it turns out the maps he wanted hadn’t even been done correctly. It had been so much of a waste, that some part of Lucien was grateful he’d managed to send Elain home, he didn’t want her thinking that the extent of his life consisted of pathetically waiting on map-makers who can’t even make the right, damned map.

“No, but thanks for the offer,” Lucien ground out through his teeth. Waiting on the cartographer had taken all day and it turns out the maps he wanted hadn’t even been done correctly. It had been so much of a waste, that some part of Lucien was grateful he’d managed to send Elain home, he didn’t want her thinking that the extent of his life consisted of pathetically waiting on map-makers who can’t even make the right, damned map.

“No, but thanks for the offer,” Lucien ground out through his teeth. Waiting on the cartographer had taken all day and it turns out the maps he wanted hadn’t even been done correctly. It had been so much of a waste, that some part of Lucien was grateful he’d managed to send Elain home, he didn’t want her thinking that the extent of his life consisted of pathetically waiting on map-makers who can’t even make the right, damned map.

“Oh come on Luci, it’ll be fun,” Vassa goaded, looking a bit more like herself than she’d been the past few days. Her hair was iridescent, and her gown was of deepest emerald, with golden gemstones that matched the simple, modest tiara upon her head. Lucien snorted.

“Oh yeah…fun. Well you can have fun for me, but I’m not going.”

“You might as well go for the free whiskey. That’s the only reason I’m interested.” Jurian grinned, throwing a far too casual arm over the queen’s shoulders, who huffed a laugh and shook him off.

“No touching Jurian. This dress is worth more than your head.”

“Ooh – not sure about that love.” Jurian grinned back, and Lucien observed the way the two mental mortals bounced off each other.

“Ugh, I don’t know who I feel worse for, you or the Nolan’s.”

“Oh it’s not just the Nolan’s going,” Jurian grinned, “I have it on good authority that Delilah will be there too.”

“Oh, Delilah,” Vassa hummed, twirling her hair and batting her eyelashes.

“Shut up the both of you,” Lucien rolled his eyes.

“Well if it doesn’t work out with the mate, just know you have a small army of humans who wouldn’t mind a piece of you,” Jurian chortled.

“Men and women,” Vassa smiled at Jurian, “I heard that Lord Smith wouldn’t mind warming himself by the fireling.”

“Yeah, yeah, I trust you got her home safe then,” Lucien pointed at Jurian, hoping his easy smile covered the anxiety that had been growing over the day as he became convinced that something terrible had happened to Elain now that she’d been removed from sight.

“Oh, the Archeron is home safe alright,” Jurian said in a tone Lucien couldn’t quite read.

“Good…well then, you two bests be off,” Lucien turned back to the house. “Don’t stay out too late kids.”

“Alright dad,” Vassa scoffed.

“Oh and Luci,” Jurian was halfway down the garden path, “Don’t make us regret leaving you home alone with your mate!” He winked at him that time and then he and Vassa were two colourful blurs in the summer evening, their laughter making music with the chirping of cicadas.

Something cold ran the length of Lucien’s spine. He would be home, alone, with Elain, for an entire night.

Fuck.

***

“Come in?”

Elain already knew it was Lucien before his head of fiery hair, now unbound, peered at her from around the door.

“Good evening, Lady, um…may I come in?”

Elain looked at him over the papers she’d randomly grabbed and was now pretending to read. Nuala certainly could have given her a little more warning.

Lucien looked so shy, half standing behind the door, and Elain found all her anger at him having sent her home evaporating. He was just as confused as she was about this whole bond thing, it was something they’d have to figure out together.

Elain gave a small nod and Lucien seemed to let loose a long breath before he walked into the room, turning around to shut the door and then turning to face her. Lucien glowed in daylight, out there in the woods it looked at though the sun were always reaching for him, as though it, like so many others, adored him. But there was something so alluring about Lucien by candlelight. The shadows and the orange light that moved over him, he seemed darker somehow, more dangerous. More intoxicating.

Lucien cleared his throat, standing with his hands held behind his back, and Elain adverted her eyes.

“I’ve come to apologise, Lady.”

“Apologise?” Elain repeated numbly. She hadn’t been expecting this, to her knowledge, men didn’t apologise.

“For how I spoke to you, earlier today…” Lucien seemed to shift slightly, “It was entirely unreasonably for me to send you home when you wished the know the way. I got spooked with the trap and, and-”

“It’s fine. Thank you,” Elain smiled at him, setting the papers down and leaning forward in her chair. Lucien looked bemused.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes I, uh…it’s not your fault I got upset, not really. I’m just quite on edge recently,” Elain began to fiddle with the threads of her dress.

“Is something wrong?” Pure concern laced Lucien’s voice as he strode a little further into the room.

“No, just…I think it’s just being around you…” Elain trailed off and Lucien’s eyes widened. Never before had she brought up the mating bond. Not with him.

“Oh, yes, it’s...uh, quite annoying isn’t it.” He grinned easily, and Elain felt something inside her relax.

“Not annoying just…things get to me easier.”

“Yes,” Lucien nodded, “When we’re close to each other the mating bond will be more…demanding. You’ll probably be more aware of it, as I am.”

“You…you feel like this, all the time?” Elain blinked at him, and Lucien shifted awkwardly, he did not want her to pity him.

“You get used to it after a while,” He grinned at her again. Elain quickly became lost in thought and Lucien could practically see her mind working, her eyes becoming distant. He took this moment to look her over, just checking for injuries, of course.

She’d changed her dress; the other one no doubt having being stained with grass and mud. It was a pale yellow, one that he found suited her hair greatly. Layers of skirts and a corset bodice, and with her hair pinned up and away from her face she looked every bit of the goddess he thought her of being.

It was then that his eye caught on the dainty necklace around her throat, a single pearl hanging at its end and…

Mother, that was a low neckline.

A low neckline for Elain of course. But still. The dress allowed him to see the beginning curve of her breasts where that single pearl lay, nestled-

Lucien snapped his eyes away and dug his hands into his pockets, digging his nails into his thighs.

He was sure that by now, Elain could read scents, and he really, really, didn’t want to make this more awkward than it was. Mother, he’d just been talking about how he’d become accustomed to controlling himself. But perhaps the beast within hadn’t been tamed, maybe it was just resting.

As though they’d been called by his arousal, the base mate desires sang through his blood. Touch, smell, taste…The last one was strangely powerful today, but maybe it was because the more time he became familiar with her scent, the more he could imagine what she tasted of. Sweet but in the way fruits are sweet, like his own personal nectar-

“Are you alright?” Elain’s soft voice sung into the air and Lucien realised that he was digging so hard into his thigh that tears had sprung up into his eyes.

“Yes, sorry,” He sniffed before huffing a laugh, “I’m just tired is all.”

“Of…” Elain prompted softly, and for a moment their eyes met and something enigmatic passed between them. “I um,” Elain sprang from her chair and began to gesture, unable to meet his eye. “I was about to go to the kitchen and steal a pot of tea and sit if the garden if you wished to, if you wished to-”

“Yes,” Lucien blinked, and Elain nodded furiously before meeting his eye and giving him a shy smile.

“Lead the way,” Elain said softly, and Lucien felt his heart skip a beat, and from the way Elain’s smile grew, he knew she’d heard it too.

***

Since it was well into the night, Elain and Lucien had to make the tea themselves, Lucien trying not to puff his chest too much when Elain gasped at how he heated the kettle with his fingers.

“It’s about as useful as it gets I’m afraid,” he grinned at her as steam started to pour from the spout.

“Well, being a seer seems far more pointless.” God she looked good in the moonlight.

“I wouldn’t say that…” It seemed that that part of Lucien would always protest at Elain being insulted, even if it were her dishing out the affront. “You knew to find Vassa, your visions before the war were invaluable, we most likely would’ve lost without them.”

Elain poured the tea, her brows furrowed in thought. If they were truly mated, if the union had been accepted, Lucien realised that this was a moment where he’d be able to reach for that bond and feel what she was feeling. He could understand, in a millisecond, what was going on behind those honeyed eyes.

Elain moved to the kitchen’s backdoor, which looked out onto the path leading down to the road which led to town, arching through the gardens. To his surprise she settled in the doorway, tucking her skirts so that they spilled out onto the gravel path.

“What is it?” Lucien prodded, as he settled down next to her, making sure that he was leaning against the left doorframe and that no part of his body was touching hers.

“Compared to the likes of Feyre and Nesta,” Elain began in a dreamy voice, “My powers are pointless; you can’t deny it.”

Lucien didn’t know what to say to that. It was all kinds of wrong. As he thought about how to exactly tell Elain she was quite insane for thinking such a way, he looked out on the moonlit gardens. The sky here was duller than the Night Court, but there was something peaceful in these lands, something innocent. A warm breeze caressed his face, and just as he was about to speak, Elain beat him to it.

“I should’ve been there, tonight, Feyre and Nesta would’ve gone.” Lucien’s hand paused as it carried his tea to his lips. Fury jolted through him.

“I don’t know about that,” Lucien proceeded in sipping his tea, trying to cool the flames within.

“If Feyre could handle seeing Tamlin, then I could’ve handled tonight,” Elain said simply, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. Lucien considered what she had said, trying to slow his heartbeat as he thought, especially now that he knew she could hear it.

“Are you so desperate to be like your sisters?” Elain cocked her head at the garden.

“Of course…they’re brave and I…I don’t know, how could I not?” Elain appeared as genuinely confused, and something inside Lucien’s chest ached.

“No offence,” he flashed her an easy grin, one that seemed to tell her that everything was going to be okay, “But I don’t think the world would recover from having another Feyre…and especially not another Nesta.”

“You know what I mean…” Elain huffed, bumping into his shoulder slightly as she flashed him a shy smile, one that made him feel like glowing. “They would’ve gone tonight. They would’ve marched into that manor and sat down in the Nolan’s chair and if Gray so much as looked at them wrong they would’ve burned the house to ashes.”

Lucien ignored Elain’s nickname for her ex-fiancé, and took a moment to cool the raging part of him that sought to seek out the boy and erase him from history. Elain was poking fun at her ex-lover, she was wrinkling her nose and shaking her head, it was obvious she wanted nothing to do with him. And yet that nickname stood like an island in the stormy ocean, a reminder that at that moment, some unevolved, bastard, human fae-hunter had a firmer place in her heart than he.

“What the hell is the Nolan’s chair?” Lucien asked after a moment, batting the vitriol from his mind.

“Oh,” Elain’s eyes lit up, “It’s some stupid, big Ashwood throne which they have in this weird trophy room, apparently it’s been passed down through generations of fae-hunters. I couldn’t touch it of course because I hadn’t been initiated into the family and that would be sacrilegious or something.” Lucien tipped his head back and huffed a laugh, and Elain felt something inside her sing to answer. She’d noticed Lucien’s beauty more this past day, but that moment right there, had been the loveliest he’d ever been. His eyes shut, his grin wide. He seemed happy. It was beautiful.

“Oh Gods, let me guess, they have it behind some sort of curtain and they do a grand reveal whenever guests come for tea?” Elain blinked at him with those brown saucers.

“Have you visited?!” Both of them titled back and let out genuine laughs, no one to interrupt them but a warm breeze making the plants rustle.

“You know, it’s funny,” Elain sighed, curling her arms around her knees and looking out on the moon-lit shrubbery, “When you stop loving someone, it’s almost like you see them for the first time.” Lucien shifted awkwardly, trying to ease the itching across his skin. He’d never talked so much about the boy before, and it was making his powers sing.

“And what do you see now?”

“I…I can’t say a bad word against him. I don’t know why. I think even if he were standing in front of me right now I would just politely ask him to leave.”

“I think that says more about your character than his.” How could the Cauldron have thought him worthy of this female? In the face of her abuser, she chose pacifism.

“It’s strange because now I guess I see him how everyone else has always seen him. But when I was human…” Elain’s speech faltered and she flashed her eyes to him, “I’m sorry you probably don’t want to hear about this.” Lucien took a deep breath before setting his cup down.

“Elain I…I want to be your friend, and I want to know everything about you. If that includes your weasel of an ex, so be it.”

“Be nice,” Elain half-told him off with a laugh as she reached out and shoved his shoulder. Lucien saw stars.

“When you were human…” Lucien found his voice after a second, and prompted Elain along. She curled her arm back around her knees and her eyes drifted off to some far off place.

“I…I just wanted to be loved, so badly. I wanted a fairy-tale romance and, I don’t know, someone who would want me, you know that kind of romance you only read about in novels where the guy walks into a room and only sees her.” Elain huffed a laugh and Lucien bit his tongue. “I just assumed that it would never happen, not with us falling into poverty, but then, we weren’t in poverty anymore, and Nesta and I were back looking for husbands. Graysen isn’t…special…I know. But I never wanted special, and for a girl who had grown up believing she’d have nothing, what he gave me seemed like the whole world. Things like sneaking out to meet him without a chaperone, or, or, sneaking away from family dinner’s to hide in the gardens. It…it felt like falling in love…”

“When you having nothing,” Lucien began tentatively, “And someone shows you an inch of kindness…well, that becomes invaluable.” Elain hummed softly in agreement.

“I didn’t want much – I’ve never wanted much - but that’s because it always seemed greedy. I just wanted my own garden, and then Graysen promised me 12 acres of land, and he did seem to care for me. Well…at one point he seemed to care.” Elain shivered, and that age-old anger flashed in his eye. He didn’t know what Graysen had said to Elain when she’d come to the Noland Manor during the war, but by the way the entire Inner Circle seemed one bad day away from cleaving the boy’s balls from his body, he got the idea.

“Now that I can see him clearly, and I can see all the terrible things he did and said, to me and…and about me…�� Elain turned to look at Lucien and found him already looking at her, his expression soft, but something made of steel in his eyes, “It’s easy to not love someone when you don’t like them, but I am afraid.”

“Of…” Lucien said gently, his voice as soft as the wind in the leaves.

“How can I…” she was looking at him directly now, “How can I do it again,” she whispered in a voice that reminded him of a petal. “I was so blinded by love; how can I trust myself? You know, sometimes it feels like I’ve felt enough heartbreak to fill several lifetimes.”

Lucien surprised himself by huffing a soft laugh.

“I know how you feel. But that’s the thing about being immortal. They say time heals all wounds, and it does. But most of us, and I suppose particularly humans, don’t get the chance to wait out our pain. But being fae, well, you’re convinced you’ll never get over it until one day you wake up and, you just are.”

Elain had never heard him speak for so long before, and she realised she could’ve sat here and listened to him talk all night. There was an aged wisdom behind his words, like a promise that everything was going to be alright. A small silence settled on the two as they both looked up at the moon, glowing like an eye of the Mother, winking with contentment.

“Graysen is a bastard isn’t he.” Lucien laughed, loud and brashly, and even though it was nearly midnight, Elain was sure he’d momentarily lit up the world.

“No comment,” Lucien held his palms up to face her to show his pacifism.

“Oh come on, you must not like him if you’re sitting here with me rather out there at the Nolan’s sipping, oh, coffee liquors.” Lucien wrinkled his nose.

“Gods, they sound awful.”

“Oh. They are,” Elain moaned with a smile. Then she peered at him again, “You’ve really never been.” Lucien shifted slightly, sitting a little straighter.

“Yes I, uh, I hope that wasn’t an intrusion or-”

“No, no!” Elain rushed, before sighing heavily as she bit her lip in thought. Lucien’s eyes, one metal one fae, roved over her. Oh how he wished to know her thoughts.

Then, Elain was reaching out for him, putting her small hand on his shoulder and looking up at him with those dark, sultry eyes.

“Thank you…for having my back,” she practically whispered. But Lucien wasn’t quite sure he’d heard her given that his entire focus had been zeroed onto that single palm pressed against his shoulder, how he could feel the warmth of her skin through the thin linen of his shirt.

“I…no problem, Lady…It’s no problem at all.” Elain smiled at him softly, but her hand stayed where it was.

Lucien wondered if she felt it too. The electricity that was flowing through his blood. The bond that seemed to glow from between his ribs, buzzing with contentment at their contact. He wondered if she felt the squeeze in her chest – the possibility that this wasn’t just a bond at all.

Suddenly, voices from the hall erupted into life. Brash singing, and a cackling laugh that startled Elain enough for her hand to lift from his shoulder, before she slowly pulled it back in her lap. Lucien was dangerously close to running into the hall and carrying both his friends back out into the garden and dumping them in the flower beds.

He’d had two stolen moments with Elain today, and the secret seemed to lie in their solidarity from the rest of the world. Sighing Lucien leaned back on his hands.

“It seems that Jurian and Vassa have made it home.”

Tag List:

@ladyelain @chloepereyra @exiledelain @bow-dawn​

[amani-outrider]

pt2 of Adrestes and the Maw Walker Hanging Out + vibing 

“I must ask…” Adrestes breaks the silence between them. 

They’re in Bastion, of course, once again relaxing. ‘Hanging out,’ but this time in a different spot- in the shade of a tree by one of the glittering ponds, far from the more bustling areas of Bastion.

The Maw Walker is splayed out on the grass the more bulky, uncomfortable pieces of their armor discarded to rest against the tree trunk, their eyes closed but one opens to look at him.

The words stumble where they’re forming in his throat, somehow their attention gives him pause. They’re friends; he’s comfortable in saying that now, but he wonders if the question is too personal to ask like this. 

But he is curious. He must know.

He looks away from them, towards the flittering silhouettes of young ascended practicing their flying in the distance. 

“Why did you side with the venthyr?” 

He hears them shift next to him, the faint rustle of the grass as they adjust. One of the Ascended starts the obstacle course anew, obviously fresh to their wings, their movements awkward and unsure.

The Maw Walker is silent and Adrestes wonders briefly if he’d phrased the question poorly. He didn’t mean to imply there was any ‘siding’ to be done, as if their choice had slighted the other covenants in some way. And maybe at first it had felt that way, but the anima flowing anew in their realms was proof enough that they were working for the betterment of them all, and the Kyrian had managed to rebuild the destroyed Crest of Ascension eventually. 

“I don’t think there was any one reason,” they say finally. 

A tension eases from Adrestes’ shoulders that he didn’t realize he’d been keeping. He turns his head slightly to catch a glance at them.

Their eyes are open, staring at the leaves of the tree that flutter in an unfelt breeze, opalescent purple melting into pale gold at the tips. 

They shrug.

“I guess I just clicked with them.”

The answer hangs in the air like the Ascended in the distance hovers, more confident with their wings than before.

“There must have been something,” he presses lightly. “You are a hero in your mortal world are you not? You would have fit in well in Bastion.” He imagines them in crisp whites, blues, and golds, traditional Bastion garb- cannot help the indulgent thought of them with wings like his. Indulgent, yes, but it ultimately rings hollow and the blues shift back to the vibrant reds, the rest tarnishing to smoky black. 

They laugh, something light and pure that resonates within him like the ring of a vesper.

“I think all of the covenants would say the same thing honestly,” they say as they sit up. “But…” their smile fades, their eyes growing distant as they stare at the water in front of them. Snapjaws swim lazily under the glittering surface, their noses breaking the still waters every now and then for breath sending ripples cascading outward. “I wouldn’t consider myself a hero. Done some heroic things yeah, maybe, but I’ve done just as much bad, too.” A shadow passes over their features. “Awful things that I regret.”  

They lapse into silence. Adrestes has only heard about what they’ve done through rumor- Revendreth’s prince never wasting a chance to gush about their accomplishments- or their own passing comments. All of their deeds thus far in the Shadowlands would seem selfless enough to be chosen for Bastion, but that hadn’t been their choice. And he knows nothing of what might haunt them.

The shadow fades from their face, their eyes focusing more on the present again.

“I guess I just liked the idea of being able to face and overcome that without forgetting.” 

He nods, understanding as much as he’s able to. He was never mortal- or if he was the memories had faded long long ago- and he’d never worked closely with the mortal souls like other Kyrian, but he knew that the memories were the hardest part of the Path for many. They clung to their past the more it faded away and he could not fault them for it.

"Besides, if I'd joined the Kyrian would we be able to spend time together like this?"

No, his duty within the kyrian would demand he act as their superior in rank no matter what. He would never have known the hospitality of the Venthyr nor the joy of their friendship. The thought of that makes his chest ache.

"You made the right choice then," Adrestes says. 

"I think so, too," they're smiling, their face bright and shining despite the darkness that had just lingered there- that still lingers within. 

He reaches out suddenly without thinking, placing his hand gently on theirs. They tense- shoulders going rigid for just a moment before relaxing. Adrestes stares at his hand, the vibrant blue contrasting against their skin, surprised by his own impulsive action.

“I…” He’s unsure of what he even wants to say. The unease that’s settled in his gut is unfamiliar. “I am sorry.” He says finally.

They look at him confused, but not pulling away.

He bows his head.

“I did not mean to unearth bad memories. Nor did I intend to doubt your choice.” 

They shift their hand under his- to pull away, he thinks at first, but instead they move so their hands slot together more surely, palm-to-palm. 

“It’s okay,” they say and squeeze his hand. Comforting, reassuring. “There’s no need to apologize.” 

Their thumb caresses idly over the back of his hand, drawing his attention again. Such gestures… were not typical of the Kyrian, especially the Ascended and unheard of with the Polemarches. 

It’s not unpleasant.

Something inside him gives way, like a wall crumbling against the crash of a wave. A feeling; warmth blossoming, unfurling like the petals of rising glory.

The sensation strikes him like a blow to the stomach, a soft noise escaping his throat in surprise.

They glance at him, their thumb stilling its motions.

“Are you okay?”

The answer should be no. It should be. Because he can recognize plainly that these are emotions he should not be feeling. He should take himself to be cleansed, to meditate in solitude to remind himself of his duty to Bastion, to the Archon and rebuild the wall inside of him. 

But he finds he doesn’t want to.

“Yes,” he says, breathing out slowly to steady himself. “I am fine.”

They say nothing, but there is another faint squeeze of his hand.

More than fine, he thinks.

[scarletarosa]

The Passage into the Afterlife

Throughout history, the thought of what happens to someone after death has long fascinated and terrified the human race. One may be surprised to discover that every story holds some truth to it. The following documentation has been long researched by myself through both astral traveling and through communicating with Minos, one of the three Judges of the Underworld. This is not intended to force beliefs, but to prepare those who are open on this subject for what lies ahead.

The Ka and Ba

Before getting into what occurs after death, one must understand the difference between the Ka (spirit) and Ba (higher self/soul). This is a concept that can be read about further in Ancient Egyptian belief. Basically, the Ba is the higher self who is immortal and dwells in the realms of spirit. When the Ba chooses to incarnate onto a planet, they choose an “unborn spirit” to embody. These two entities then come together in the womb, and then the Ba closes their eyes, awaiting the time when their human will mature and seek higher knowledge (if they ever do). 

If the Ba is fortunate, their human will begin seeking true knowledge of the spirit realms and of higher selves, causing the Ba to awaken and begin guiding the human they dwell within. So we as we are right now, are all Ka; our Ba (higher selves) dwell within us. Most humans have a higher self who is also human, but some have higher selves who might be angelic, demonic, draconic, elven, fae, etc. 

The Moment of Death

When we die, we separate from this body and emerge on the spirit plane of Earth. This is temporary, for Earth is the transitioning place before we move on. During this period, there are several things that can happen: if we chose to be cremated, we immediately disconnect from our bodies, but if buried, we remain stuck next to our body for a period of time, depending on how long it takes for the connection to be lost. In a case where one commits suicide, the afterlife is not pleasant, and the Judges seek to punish the human for abandoning their purpose and will delete them from existence. For the humans who died a horrific death, they typically refuse to move on, causing them to become wraiths (hauntings). This action causes the Ka to be permanently separated from their Ba, eventually causing the Ka to go insane and then become a poltergeist. 

Voyage to the Underworld

In most cases, the Ka emerges from their body and spends around three days (at least) wandering places on Earth that are familiar to them, as they will be restricted from going anywhere else. Most of the time, people do not realize that they have died. After these days, a psychopomp will arrive to collect the Ka and bring them to the Underworld. The Underworlds in every religion (not including Hell) are all the same place, but include many different kingdoms across the vast land. Once arriving in the Underworld, the Ka will wait to be seen at the Gaunt Palace, where they will confess their corrupt actions to the three Judges in front of a large council, then the council will discuss what fate they should have. The Judge, Minos, will have the final say. Once this is done, the three Judges will direct the Ka to be sent to a specific kingdom of the Underworld depending on what the persons’ beliefs were while alive. So while some may be approached by Hades, others might instead face Anubis and Osiris, or Hel, or Ereshkigal, etc. People who were Monotheists, however, will just arrive in a place similar to the gloom of the traditional Greek Underworld (Hades). 

Once the Ka meets with their specific Underworld god, the deity will then give that spirit trials to undergo within their designated level of the Underworld (there are three main levels, but seven in total). The first layer is for people who were good-natured and healed from most of their traumas. The second is for more unmoral people or just those with negative attachments who underwent only some healing while alive, and the third is for people who have very strong attachments due to suffering and didn’t get the chance to heal. The first layer will seek to teach lessons in lesser tormenting ways in order to get the spirits there to understand the things they did wrong and to not do them again, as well as to sever their remaining attachments. The third layer, however, is full of tortures that will force the people strongly attached to their suffering to realize the illusion of their ways and that they can go free if they fight for it. There trials are meant for Rebirth, not always punishment. 

The longer it takes for the Ka to fully understand their wrong-doings and their sufferings, the longer they will have to remain in the Underworld. If the spirit is exceptionally evil, however, the Judges will call upon the goddess Ammit. Ammit will then open her enormous jaws and devour the corrupt spirit, sending them to the realm of Hell, where one of the three High Kings (Lucifer, Satan, Leviathan) will decide what is done with them. Once in Hell, the spirit is usually tormented for eternity. So basically, the Underworld is meant to bring about a Rebirth; Hell is meant to punish.

The Shadow Self

While alive, we all experience traumas and negative circumstances. All of the emotions that arose from these things began to develop into an entity called “The Shadow”, which represents the darker half of us. Each person’s Shadow is different, depending on their negative experiences and how they reacted to them. I will get into the different types of Shadows in an additional post, but for now, it is good to analyze your own behaviours that are toxic, since these arise from the Shadow Self. Giving into negative behaviours empowers the Shadow.

When we die, the death of our brain causes the Shadow Self to become more than just a psychological counterpart, and they are now more free. They take on a terrifying form and seek to tear us apart. We all end up facing our Shadows while in the Underworld, and if we are not prepared, they will attack us repeatedly and cause our stay there to be greatly prolonged. In order to prevent this, we need to do shadow work in this life so we can understand our negative traits through in-depth analyzations . Look at your greatest burdens, how you view yourself and others, your self-destructive habits, your negative feelings- all of these come from the Shadow. We must understand this part of ourselves in order to understand how to mend them and eventually, overpower our Shadow Self. We will have to do this in the Underworld, otherwise, one will need to be able to hold it off long enough until the Judgment is over, which is when the Shadow will be destroyed. 

Elysium

After a Ka successfully makes it through the trials of the Underworld, they are brought to Elysium, which is a realm of Paradise where we rest and wait for our Ba to come retrieve us. Most spirits will remain together in Elysium for a year, but if the spirit achieved Awakening (realization of their higher self’s identity) while still alive, they will be able to leave sooner. When the higher self arrives, they will approach the Ka and absorb them into themself, and then will return home. Thus, the Ba and Ka are united and the lifetime is completed. 

If the higher self is a human, the Ba will have to reincarnate after a decade of being back in the spirit world, starting the process again with another unborn spirit (Ka) until they achieve Illumination. A human higher self will no longer need to reincarnate once Illumination is achieved by one of their embodiments. Other higher selves, such as those that are Higher beings than humans (demonic, angelic, draconic, etc.), will not have to reincarnate all the time; instead choosing to do so in order to help the world progress through their human.

Conclusion

Overall, it is extremely important to realize that our task in life is to achieve Awakening, which is done through seeking the identity of our higher self (Ba), bonding with our higher self through meditation and communication, and to seek true knowledge on the spirit world. We also must make certain to overcome our Shadows by keeping our actions and thoughts in check; thus allowing us to become the best we can be. If we manage to overcome our attachments, negative thinking, and toxic behaviours, we will have less trials to suffer through. All of these things will allow for a smooth transition through Death and to become one with our Ba.

The Underworld (in-depth description)