#have her twack the enemies with it

[gierosajie]

Been thinking about redesigning the archons as Honkai ELFs. It's gonna be a while before I actually do anything with it but just imagine

Venti with the Skyward Harp except it's normal sized and looks more like an actual harp next to him. Still shoots arrows with it tho

Zhongli standing on top of the Memory of Dust like a scooter and making you wonder how he hasn't fallen off yet. Has a little kongming lock floating around the catalyst like his idle

Ei is literally just a chibi-fied version of the puppet's shadow lord form

Nahida sitting on the advanced Akasha terminal and floating around everywhere. Her ult mostly just does what the little guy does in Scara's boss fight. Still deciding on whether or not she is holding a cup or just an orb

[fairiesherefairiesthere]

Of gods, demons and the longevity of true love.

My entry for the last day of fraxusweek hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus !!!

Prompt: Tarot/Legends and Mythology

"What are those things still doing around here?" Laxus asks brazenly, watching a few demons scurry away with disdain clear in his eyes. His grandfather, ever the spineless pacifist twacks his kneecaps with his walking stick before answering. "You young insolent fool. They are an integral part of our society."

Before the old man can continue his explanation, Laxus scoffs. "Are they though?" he asks, not willing to hear a possible answer. "I fought with that lightning demon earlier and his power is laughable. I could've killed him and taken over his domain and the world would've kept on turning. They're evil beings without a purpose, you should've just got rid of them a long time ago."

Rest of the fic under the cut!

"Laxus." His grandfather's voice has taken on that specific kind of tone that suggests that he's more than displeased at his opinion, but Laxus can't bring himself to care. In a world of gods, demons and humans, are the demons really needed? Didn't his grandfather wage a war on them because they kept corrupting humans? His grandfather is a contradicting fool, really.

"What. All they're good for is corruption, right? We can live without that."

"Is that truly what you think?" his grandfather asks and Laxus snorts in response. "Have you raised me to think otherwise?" When he gets no immediate answer, he rolls his eyes and turns to leave. "Laxus wait", his grandfathers gently orders him and gestures for him to sit down next to him. He doesn't do that, unwilling to give the old man that much, but he does halt his stride and turn around.

"I used to think like that", his grandfather confesses as though it's a surprise, as though that sentiment isn't alive and thriving. "But I changed my mind after I experienced their so-called corruption myself. It's not what you think it is and I implore you to do the same thing before saying such callous things." He pauses as though the silence would fortify his statement. "You're full of shit", Laxus answers pointedly, having heard enough. He doesn't bid his grandfather goodbye as he leaves. That day, it storms and lightning wreaks havoc upon the unsuspecting townspeople.

The next day, he has the pleasure to explain the reasons behind his little lightning spectacle to the goddess of script, words, letters, alphabets yada yada, he isn't that interested. He also doesn't get why she's so insistent on writing everything down, keeping logs of all godly activity. It's annoying. She keeps blabbering about immortalising the gods through words, but doesn't their innate immortality defy that? Interrupting her spiel about the importance of script, he asks her a question that's been weighing on his mind.

"Tiny," ignoring the indignant squeak escaping her he continues, "You're smart right? What's your opinion on demons?" Immediately, the shift in the mood becomes palpable. With a nervous chuckle, she tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ears. "Well...", she starts and coughs akwardly. "That's quite the loaded question, isn't it?"

He gets her unease. The war between demons and gods had started eons ago and had only come to a sudden stop recently. Outwardly, the gods all seemed to have become all fine and dandy with demons being allowed to interact with them and humans, but they both know the that isn't the truth. The message of 'demons are totes a-okay!' is so recent and none of them truly believe it. But not a single person can go against Makarov's wishes, so they take part in the façade.

Seeing her discomfort, he inwardly sighs. Although he won't deny that he's an asshole, it takes a whole different kind of asshole to force an answer out of petite Levy who looks like she could be snapped in half by him. Furthermore, she'd have to put this conversation in her records and probably have another moral breakdown. "Never mind it squirt, you keep doing your thing", he says and ruffles her hair while she bravely tries to fend him off. She still ends up with a bird's nest though.

Realising that no one's going to share their opinions of the other camp, he decides to take the easy way out. Instead, he decides to march straight into the other camp. If you want to know something, the best way is to get it directly from the source, right?

Apparently, it isn't. Little demon children (it's disturbing how innocence and something vile can coexist like that) quickly hide behind their mother's skirt as he walks between them. Conversations fall silent and only slowly pick up again when they think he's out of earshot. He's always taken pride in his grand stature, but right now it feels horribly out of place and he wonders if there's anything he can do to make himself look smaller, to not frighten these people as much.

The obvious discomfort his presence brings isn't worth it to him. Sure, he could keep forcing himself into their space, but he'd garner no positive results. He's quite sure he wouldn't even garner any results at all, since no one wanted to approach him. Realising this, he turns around to go back to the palace.

His grandfather finds him sitting on the edge of an open window, mulling over his thoughts and wondering how to change his approach. Those things seemed to be scared, something that doesn't add up in Laxus' head. Were they not the ones who turned humans against gods? Were they not the enemy? Were they shoving the most innocent of them to the forefront so that, upon entering their domain, outsiders would see them as guiltless beings?

"If you keep that, you'll damage whatever brains you have left", his grandfather teases him as he comes to stand next to Laxus. Rolling his eyes, he merely grunts at his grandfather in return. "What's got you thinking so hard my boy?" he asks and for a moment, Laxus closes his eyes and lets the warmth of his grandfather's voice trickle over him. For the briefest of moments, it's nice to pretend he's still a newly made god who thinks he knows how everything works.

"I went to visit those things-"

"At least call them people", his grandfather interrupts him and with a sigh, Laxus does so and continues. "I visited them", he says, eyes full of challenge, but his grandfather merely nods encouragingly. "I still can't see why you keep them around. They're more trouble than they're worth."

"I figured that you'd say that, so I arranged for a very special meeting. Do you want to meet the demon that changed my mind and made me spare their whole kind in the midst of a battle?" Because it seems like the only option left to satisfy his curiosity, Laxus agrees. While they walk through the castle in search of him, his grandfather explains who the demon in question is. Apparently, he could be seen as Levy's demon counterpart when comparing the domains they rule over. Laxus wonders what kind of words the demon must've pulled out of his ass to convince his grandfather to not kill them all.

After listening to his grandfather's long and winded character introduction, Laxus had expected a meeting with an old, gray man who constantly spouted unwanted advice like a fountain of fortune cookies. A single look at the young man before him proves him completely wrong.

He's definitely not old, in fact, his youthful face seems to suggest that he's younger than Laxus himself. There's a hint of muted curiosity there, suppressed childlike wonder that Laxus himself feels too. Because Laxus is focusing on the other man's looks that much, he quickly comes to the realisation that the man in front of him is devastatingly handsome. As soon as the realisation hits him, he colours a bright red and redirects his gaze to the very interesting tips of his shoes.

A deep chuckle makes his gaze snap back to the other man who gives him an amused halfsmirk. It's terribly attractive. Clearing his throat, his grandfather gestures to the man. "Laxus, meet the demon who rules over the scripts, speaks all tongues-"

"Freed", the man interrupts and offers Laxus his hand. Awkwardly Laxus accepts it while his grandfather frowns. "What are you freed from?" Laxus asks and immediately, his grandfather groans. The gorgeous man in front of him simply laughs, pretty lights dancing in his visible eye. "Freed is my name", he clarifies and Laxus wishes he was the god of being able to be swallowed by floors.

"What brings you here?", he asks Laxus. Not wanting to be ignored, his grandfather steps in. "Laxus wanted to know what demons were worth and I believe you would be the perfect person to show him that."

With a cool smile, Freed turns to his grandfather. "Well then Makarov, you thought wrong. Good day, gentlemen." Then he turns on his heel and departs, leaving both of them stunned. After a while, Makarov coughs. "I'm sure you're smart to figure it out yourself", he encourages Laxus before swiftly taking his exit as well.

Pissed off, Laxus spends the rest of the day making up less than savoury nicknames for Freed. Annoyed that the list of quite creative insults isn't helping him reach his goal any faster, he decides that he can't let this chance escape. Determined to know why demons are still allowed to exist, he hunts the man down. Laxus Dreyar is many things, but a quitter isn't one of them.

Maybe asking "Why are you still allowed to live?" isn't the most polite of questions to start with. Maybe, one shouldn't ever utter those words at all. But Laxus has a mouth that runs quicker than his brain and so, he has wedged himself between a rock and a hard place.

"Why not?" Freed shoots back, not unfriendly per se but there's an edge in his voice, ready to cut at any moment. "Tell me, why must I die?"

It's a question so direct that Laxus fumbles before answering. "You lot are corrupting humans, giving them things they aren't supposed to have. You're crossing boundaries you aren't supposed to cross." It's an adequate enough answer, it's something he's been told all his life.

"Who set those boundaries then?" Freed asks before shaking his head with a little laugh. "And giving humans things? Oh no, we're tricksters my dear, we don't give anyone anything. Surely we might inspire, but we do not give. Every choice one of those little ones down below makes, is one of their own. Don't underestimate the human will. Now please excuse me, I'm done talking for today."

"Wait", Laxus says and grabs the other man's arm, intending to halt his stride. With a brusque movement Freed breaks free and when Laxus catches a glimpse of his eyes, he thinks he's come a lot of steps closer to knowing what the flaming pits of hell look like. That fiery expression is quickly schooled back into careful neutrality as Freed opens his mouth to fire off a snappy remark.

"You're a funny lot, you gods. It's your way or none at all, isn't it? Why? Your hubris knows no bounds." After that, the man's gone before Laxus can ask him to stay.

The following day, Laxus seeks him out again and finds Freed sitting on the edge of an ornate fountain, bared feet dipping into the water as gods stand by and whisper from a distance. "Can I talk to you?" he politely asks and is met with an uncompromising "No".

"I just wanted to apologize", he mumbles and Freed gives him a flat look before disappearing again. Wondering what he did wrong, he spends the rest of his day at the fountain, feet splashing in the water as though he was still a child.

The next day, he once again seeks out Freed, asking if it were an appropriate moment to talk and once more, Freed tells him no. This time Laxus gives him a steady nod before leaving himself. Forcing the other man to talk to him would never work and honestly, Laxus doesn't want to force a relationship with anyone. Should Freed ever want to talk to him, he'd have no problem finding him.

For a few days he doesn't even see Freed until one day, the man pops up on his windowsill, perching on there like a cat basking in the sun. He's gorgeous, Laxus realises once more, with his hair losely draped over a shoulder and dark wings and horns reflecting the sunlight with a gentle shimmer. He's alluring, pulchritudinous. Laxus frowns. That last one is definitely not a word that was in his vocabulary before.

"Am I inspiring you yet?" Freed asks with a wicked grin, sinfully stretching himself on the windowsill. "Are my devilish charms working?" he adds and Laxus nods, a bit stupefied. "Now, you've been meaning to ask me something, right? You want to know why my species and I are allowed to live, why your grandfather decided to spare me on the battlefield."

Another nod. "My grandfather said he decided to spare you after he witnessed your 'corruption' himself. I want to know what words you said, you demon of words, letters, -"

"I said nothing at all", Freed interrupts him softly. "I didn't say a thing as he held me against the ground, knife in one hand with the other one on my throat. I merely cried because I was scared, I wholeheartedly believed I was going to die. My tears hit his hand and in that moment, the god who created all gods looked human."

Sensing the disbelief in Laxus, Freed only shrugs. "I think it's the first time he saw emotions that he hadn't created. You lot were made by him, every god carved to perfection by his hand. Every tear you've shed, every laugh you've laughed, they were implanted in you by him. We demons tempt you to let go of that prefabricated self, to explore your own self. Becoming your own person separated from Makarov's making comes at the price of immortality and thus, humans were born. Gods who were such no more."

With a whistful sigh, Freed shakes his head. "But parents get mad once you escape their tutelage and to protect their children, they will eliminate that which forms a threat to their children. And so the war began and for every child lost, a new one was made on your side. We demons have no almighty creator, we are born from stray magic of mother nature herself. We happen to be. So during one of those battles, I happened to be there and I think the confrontation with genuine emotion made him realise that he was not destroying something of his own making that he could simply rebuild. Just like humans, when we do die, we return to the earth."

It's a bit of a heavy pill to swallow. With an uncomfortable laugh, Laxus rubs the back of his head. "Guess you're not too big of a fan of my grandpa then?" Freed gives him a chuckle in return.

"Definitely no. And also, a bit yes. I just think he's been lonely for a long time and thus, has become very protective over his company. I think he's making strides in the right direction, but he's not unifying anyone. He still expects you all to just follow his wishes, well-intended as they are. But you all have come in contact with us, haven't you? You're not completely his anymore, so you are unable to blindly follow. He should educate you instead of ordering you, but that's just my two cents."

"I'm starting to get it", Laxus carefully says as he mulls over Freed's explanation. "You're allowed to live because nature made you with specific purposes outside my grandfather's realm of ruling. Freed laughs at his scrunched up pensive face and boops his nose.

"We're not even at my true point yet dear. Here's my gripe, my core issue if you want: must have something have a purpose or reason to exist at all? I have already mentioned it, but we demons happen to be and so are humans in a certain way. There's no reason or purpose behind our existance, we are not fabricated with definite goal. You gods were and I think that defines a lot of your thinking. But at our core, isn't simply being enough? Doesn't being give you more freedom to do something, anything than a prefabricated destiny? One should not have a purpose to be allowed to live, but finding purposes in life is what makes it worth living. But even that you, who are immortal, can not grasp. It's a bit pitiful isn't it, a god's existance?" With that and a kiss on the cheek, Freed leaves him to stew in his thoughts.

Once he's talked more about it with Freed over the span over a longer time, the clearer the division becomes between gods, demons and humans. Seeing the obvious divide, Laxus turns to his grandfather with his thoughts and ideas for a unification. Obviously, the old man has difficulties with being confronted by his own mistakes like that, but at least he attempts to do better.

The progress is slow and every once in a while there's a major setback that throws a wrench in the relationship between the demons and the gods. But steadily, over eons, the undercurrent of vicious hatred disappears and it's at that moment that a different union happens. Laxus can't think of a life without this clever, misschievous man at his side and the affections are returned. Their marriage is something that brings the relation between demons and gods to a higher level, evens the playing ground even more.

Whether their opnions be good or not, every god has one on the union. "It really strenghtens their critical thinking, doesn't it?" Freed jokes as he reads one of the letters totally decimating him. "They're absolutely nae nae'ing me."

They exchange a few meaningful glances and Freed breaks the silence first with a sigh. "Every day we stray further from Makarov's light. Everyone has something to say nowadays." He gives Laxus a thoughtful look. "You know what this means, right?"

"Our immortality fades. We become humans."

Freed gives him a hum, confirming his speculations. "Gramps will become lonely again then", Laxus realises and with a heavy heart, he knows he doesn't want that to happen.

"I don't think he'll be around for that long", Freed confesses and presses a kiss to the corner of Laxus' lips to ease the lines of worry there. "Fear not for him my love, he is old and his children have grown up. He has found a purpose that brought him joy and now that purpose has reached it's peak. His life is a fulfilled one, prepare to let him go."

And let go of him they do, eventually. It leaves the gods without power, devoid of immortality but with a new sense of peace. "A parting gift", Freed whispers and Laxus draws his husband into the tightest of hugs. "Should I give you one too, when I eventually die?"

Freed shakes his head. "My dearest love, there's nowhere you can go where I won't follow. You've been feeling it too, haven't you? We're entering a new time, where a divide won't be there anymore. We will simply be humans, all of us."

When the time to fade comes, they know and are ready for it. Everyone's been feeling it, but there's a peace that shields them all  from true fear. There's an intimate knowledge that this is one of the changes that simply is, that simply happens.

Freed and Laxus are sitting hand in hand, with their feet idly splashing into the fountain as unworried children would do. "When we meet again, because there are no ifs about it, will you greet me as a friend?" Freed softly asks as his eyes close themselves and Laxus whispers back: "My love, I'd greet you as a lover."

Bonus:

University lectures aren't always the most interesting, but this one is certainly turning out to be. A guy a few rows before him looks about ready to fistfight the professor about nihilism of all things. He can't properly hear them, but clearly the confrontation is over and the guy whirls away from the prof, heading straight for the door. Laxus decides to follow him.

"Why were you defending a belief that says human life is useless and meaningless? I think we all have a defined purpose", Laxus says, daring the other man the answer.

And answer, he does, with eyes blazing like the gates of hell. "Life is inherently meaningless", he says with certainty, "But that's because it's filled with the opportunity to create your own meaning. You may be waiting for divine intervention, but I'll create my own destiny."

Laxus smiles then, the familiarity and the warmth returning to his soul. "Then I'll do too", he says, "You've always inspired me, my love."

Whether they be human or something else, their kisses keep tasting the same.

[theundercovermarvelfan]

Face Everything And Rise

NEW CHAPTER ALERT!

Inspired by the 2017 Whumptober Challenge, all prompts will be used but I have reordered them to fit my timeline. New chapter posted weekly!

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE SELF-INFLICTED

“How long has he been in there?” Steve asked.

 Natasha glanced back at him as he approached before returning her gaze to the only man standing inside the Tower’s shooting range. She hadn’t gone so far as to enter the room, but rather was leaning up against the doorframe with her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

 “Since we got back,” Natasha said flatly.

 Steve had suspected that, considering that both him and Natasha were still in full battle torn uniform, but it was still troubling to hear it confirmed. That had been almost four hours ago.

 “Have you tried to stop him?” Steve asked.

 Natasha shook her head. “I’ve learned from years of experience that once he gets going, there’s no stopping him.”

 “How long does he usually do this for?” Steve asked warily.

 “Until he collapses.” She sighed and the spoke again so quietly, it was almost as if she were speaking to herself. “Clint Barton is his own worst enemy.”

 “Why don’t you take a break,” Steve suggested. “Go get cleaned up. I’ll keep an eye on him until you get back.”

 Natasha turned and regarded him skeptically for a moment.

 “You’re going to try and talk to him.” It wasn’t a question.

 Steve shrugged sheepishly. “It’s what I do.”

 Natasha turned, waving a dismissive hand at him as she started to walk away. “Far be it from me to stop you. Bang your head against that brick wall to your Star-Spangled heart’s content.”

 And she was gone.

 Steve turned and took a deep breath before he carefully stepped into the range. It was a strange, almost unsettling feeling walking into a quiet shooting range. It was normally a place of high activity and noises so loud one would normally need noise cancelling headphones. But today, with only the rhythmic TWACK of an arrow sinking into a target every couple seconds, the atmosphere was deceptively peaceful.

 Steve felt wary as he approached Barton who had taken over the last stall in the row. Out of all the Avengers, Steve felt like he knew the least about their archer. The man tended to keep to himself and even after a year of Avengers mission he still seemed to stand on the outskirts of the team.

 “Barton?” Steve tried as he approached.

 Barton had his back to him, not pausing as he reached into the quiver hanging at his belt, nocked another arrow and fired. Steve followed the arrow with his eyes, watching as it hit the target down the range, clustered perfectly in the middle circle with a couple dozen other arrows.

 When Barton didn’t acknowledge Steve’s presence, Steve started to reach for the man, but quickly thought better of it. Instead, he moved carefully around behind Barton, intending to work his way into the archer’s field of vision before trying to get his attention again.

 It happened so fast, he almost didn’t have time to react.

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