#juniper and iridescent | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hope-to-hell · 2 years ago

Text

Night Gardening. Loki x Möbius. Dreams are just the brain processing past events. They’re not real, even if his senses tell him otherwise. Right? Smut and purple prose out the wazoo.

———

Okay. Don’t break him. He can take so much more than you think but apply stress from a certain angle and he’ll shatter like— what’s that thing? Prince Rupert’s drop? Yeah. Yeah, that’s it. That’s the thing he saw once down in Engineering, crushed under a hydraulic press— only it wasn’t crushed. It disappeared, and when the press rose again it bore a hole in the shape of the drop. Glass stronger than steel, stronger than unstoppable force: it was strong, yes, but when Mobius held it in wondering hands he fumbled and it shattered— disintegrated— landing on its wispy tail and it was gone.

So he’s scared, you know? Reaching out means maybe getting what he wants, and maybe taking back a chilled and empty hand. He breathes out on a shudder and strains to hear Loki’s words through the haze of this dream, in this hollow in time carved out by sweat and tears and the iridescent shine of maybe it’ll be alright. Maybe I’ll wake up and

You’re wandering again.

There you are. I was afraid I’d be here all by my lonesome. Levity runs in Mobius’ veins; he can’t ever seem to get out ahead of it to find the words he needs to say and so he trails behind hoping the meaning comes through just the same.

If you were, you’d soon be unmade. And, okay,

Harsh. But listen. I know none of this is real, okay? I know you’re just something I’m making up while I sleep. But I still gotta ask. Are you alright? Ask stupid questions and get no answer. But he knows Loki well enough to clock the minute twitch of his jaw

(not alright, not for a long time, but there’s something on his mind and it’s more than just the Tree)

and how familiar are they that he can see it even here, in the flow of innumerable worlds? Okay, not the time. I get it. If ol’ tall dark and self-sacrificing over there wants to get something off his chest, he will— even if it’s coded in the flick of a finger or that way he has of shifting his weight just so. And anyway, this is a dream so Mobius can do whatever the hell he likes, right? He can even close the distance between them til he smells juniper and snow as he breathes Loki in deep. Easy, hoss. I should’ve done this when I had the chance.

And oh, if this is a dream then may he never wake up. If there is any justice left then let him remain here, half-draped over Loki with that clever tongue silenced, breathless— let him live out his days with this tremble in his thighs from trying so damn hard to keep himself in check. I used to know how to do this. I think. Doesn’t matter if he’s out of practice or if the angle is all wrong; all that matters is the way Loki strains to meet the kiss.

But for all his strength, Loki is bound in place: he is jailer and prisoner— no, that’s not right, he’s a conduit, a gardner— as infinite possibilities course electric through him and he cannot rise, cannot reach out, cannot pull Mobius down by the lapels and give him everything he never realized he could ask for. I— ah. I can’t— and please, please understand that Loki doesn’t bare his throat to just anyone. This is a gift. This is the pulse of artery and vein, of xylem, of phloem— yes, yes, somewhere in the distant unknown you passed a science class or two— and if they only get one chance at this, he’s gonna give it all he’s got.

And Mobius is so goddamned careful right up until the moment Loki nips at him, following sharp teeth with a lick that says I’d drink you up if I could.

Did you say that? Or did I?

Darling, does it matter? Oh. Oh, the word slips into his ear, past grey hair gone just a little shaggy, tip-tapping over his eardrums and hey, yeah, okay, he likes that. He likes that a lot. Mobius breathes in a single sharp breath and on the exhale pours himself down Loki’s throat: all of his being compressed into a single breath, tinged with salt spray and stubble-rough around the edges; it’s not nearly enough, but it’s all he has.

And Mobius shoots off in his pants like a damn teenager; he’s all spreading stickiness and it’s just too goddamned much but he isn’t finished yet. So he drops his head and threads one hand through Loki’s hair as the other is fumbling, searching for buttons, a zipper, anything— how do I get these open, did you forget that when you get the trousers on you’ve still gotta take them off—

Laces. There, just to your left and he’s in, nails catching at the knots; in his idle moments Mobius might’ve pictured this, but slower: maybe somewhere quiet outdoors with sunlight slipping lazily over his back, Loki’s hand closing over his— open your eyes. I want to see you— but this is worlds better; this is the ache between his shoulders and the drag of skin on skin; this is Mobius licking bitter salt from his palm and reaching for more; this moment does not crystallize but rather atomizes, drifting up and into the branches of the Tree.

Damn, I wish (I— we— could’ve found another way,) I mean, I want (more time. Why is there never enough time)— next time I’ll buy you dinner first. In the dream a little self-indulgence won’t go amiss; he can concentrate and maybe the next time he sleeps he’ll be able to come back and do this properly. Maybe he’ll follow the thread of this unraveling dream back to its beginning; to this place where he doesn’t have to hold so tightly to his memories, watching them fade out slowly til they’re just amorphous feelings. Maybe he'll stay a while and watch the ebb and flow of life through the branches of the Tree.

But the dream ends, as all dreams must; Mobius awakens with his head pillowed on one arm, the sleeve of his jacket pressing its imprint into his face; he breathes slow and quiet, rubbing his thumb across his first two fingers, listening hard for a fading whisper:

I tend to many worlds, but remember— the gods do play favorites, and I play for keeps.

#loki #loki series #lokius #loki x mobius #lokius fic #lokius smut #Loki x Möbius fic #Loki x Möbius smut #mcu

32 notes · View notes

damnaation · 11 months ago

Text

A Sunless Place

A monster hunter ends up a little closer to a vampire than expected.

Soft, safe, slightly reluctant but willing vore. Monster hunter Phoenix & vampire Juniper.

There was no way her leg would support her, and there was certainly no way she would be able to climb out of this cave.

Phoenix had gone off alone, tracking reports of a missing teen and odd happenings—it had sounded like a spirit of some sort, inhabiting the cave they were now trapped in. They'd managed to dispel it, but not before taking a tumble into the blackness and quite possibly breaking their leg.

They were a sitting duck like this. No food and not enough water to last more than a day or two, and the forest the cave was in was inhabited by monsters. Their illustrious career would end with an ill advised solo hunting trip, their remains discovered in a few weeks when the next spelunker stumbled upon them-

The sound of rocks clattering jolted her out of her morbid thoughts. Clutching her knife tight, she peered into the sunless dark beyond the feeble glow of her flashlight—it had been flickering since her fall, and would likely go out before long. Nothing distinct caught her vision at first, but she couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.

With one final burst, the light died, leaving her in darkness that human eyes could never adjust to. But that one last moment had given her a brief glimpse of eyes in the dark, reflecting red back towards her.

Their blood went icy—they knew there was at least one vampire in the area, and red iridescent eyes was one of the telltale signs. Fumbling for their bag, they pawed for the vial of holy water they carried, but let out a pained gasp as they sliced their fingers on shards of glass instead. It had broken in the fall, just like their flashlight and potentially their leg.

“You're out of your depth, little hunter.” A voice called from the darkness—smooth and masculine. It echoed off the rock walls, leaving her disoriented and unable to track where it was coming from. The sound of footsteps and shifting rocks only added to the difficulty, leaving her completely discombobulated and unsure of what direction an attack might come from.

“Are you just going to sit there and toy with me, or get it over with?” The young hunter snapped, grip tightening on their knife. They wouldn't win a fight under these conditions, but they'd certainly leave more than a few wounds before they went out.

At least until a hand wrapped around her wrist, strong enough to keep her from moving but not tight enough to be uncomfortable.

“I don't see why I can't do both.” The voice murmured in her ear, making her heart skip a beat as he pulled the knife from her grasp.

“You fucking ass- real funny, John.” She snapped, but couldn't help sagging with relief at the familiar voice of her… well. She wasn't in danger, at least. Even if he thought it was funny to scare her. Their relationship was complicated, but she knew he wouldn't harm her.

“My apologies, little bird.” He hummed, still sounding a bit smug as he took their other hand to—presumably—inspect the cuts there. “But really, we have to stop meeting like this. I'm starting to think you like me carrying you out of danger.”

“I don't think the first time counts.” They responded dryly, before startling at the feeling of him licking their fingers—gross, but they knew vampire saliva was a coagulant—and then letting out a pained wheeze through gritted teeth as the motion jostled their leg.

“You won't be able to put weight on that.” A hand settled on her knee, just that faint bit of added pressure sending a sharp tingling shooting down their shin. “I’ll have to carry you out, and it will probably hurt.”

… Vampire venom had pain killing properties, she knew. But as banged up as she already was, it was probably a bad idea.

“What time is it?” It had been evening when she'd entered the cave, but she'd lost track of time. If the sun was up, it wouldn't be safe for Juniper to get near the entrance.

“You have bigger things to worry about than losing your beauty sleep, my dear.” He responded, making a shuffling noise that sounded like he was digging in her bag- oh, shit.

“Be careful- I broke a vial of holy water.” They reached out, blindly waving their hand until they touched him. “That's how I cut myself.”

“I could tell. Had a bit of a kick.” The rasp of a zipper accompanied his words, before they heard him hold the bag out. “That leg should probably be splinted, just to be safe. And you might have to hold your bag in your lap.”

“Ah- yeah.” That was smart, and she'd probably want something to hold onto that she wouldn't have to worry about digging her nails into—her leg was already bad enough just sitting there, it would no doubt be worse when he picked her up, even with a makeshift splint.

“Alright. Brace yourself, firebird.” The clunk of wood against stone sounded as his hands brushed against their leg—it took a moment for them to think of what he could be using, but the only things they had on them that could work were stakes. Ironic.

They shivered, suddenly feeling clammy as a wave of lightheadedness overcame them. “Should be rope, I think-” Their voice came out more feeble than expected, and their stomach churned nauseatingly.

“I found it. Just hold still, this might hurt.” Unable to see anything, she did her best to stay still, biting back a pained cry into a sharp whine as he tied the makeshift splint into place. Every little jostle felt like a white-hot iron being pressed into the bone of her leg, and a dull buzzing had started up in her ears by the time he finished, muffling his murmured apologies. “Okay. The hard part’s over. If you pass out now it's fine.”

Chuckling weakly, she flailed around with her fist for a moment before finally delivering a soft whack to some part of his arm. “C’n we get going? It feels like's been hours in here.”

“Hold on.” His arms wrapped around her, one behind her back and one under her knees—already sending a jolt of pain through her leg, and he hadn't even picked her up yet, but it wasn't as bad as splinting it had been. Clutching her bag tightly, she gave a tense hum, and after a moment he lifted her off the ground—getting a sharp gasp as her leg was suddenly left dangling, a hot, sharp ache settling into the bone. A profoundly unpleasant sensation, but manageable so long as she didn't dwell on it.

The typically off-putting undead coolness of his skin felt nice against their bruises, and they rested their head against his shoulder as it quickly felt too heavy to keep up on their own. He hardly seemed bothered by their weight, picking his way back out of the cave with careful precision.

After what could have been anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours, as far as she knew, she felt him pause, grip tightening slightly on her. Blinking her eyes open, she glanced up at him—and then realized she could see. But not in the dim, dull colors of moonlight—shady and indirect, perhaps, but she could see a full range of hues, from the reddish rock of the cave, to the cool blueish undertones of Juniper's skin, to the green of the trees outside.

“... Sun’s up.” She murmured.

“It is.” He responded, fingers digging into their side for a moment.

They were both stuck now, at least until nightfall.

“Should get away fr’m the entrance—don't want you gettin’ burned.” They could see a brief flex of muscle as he clenched his jaw for a moment, a look of frustration overcoming him at their words.

“I'm not going to just take you back down there, that's ridiculous.”

“John, f’you get hurt m’fucked either way. Not gonna be able t’get outta here on my own.” And this wasn't a common enough destination to count on anyone coming by and rescuing them. “We'll jus’ wait a little further in.”

“No. I think there was something following us. It stopped a while back, but I'm not keen on putting you back in danger, Phoenix. Whatever it was, I don't think it's much more fond of sunlight than I am.” The vampire murmured. “It's safer for you here.”

“One wrong reflection an’ we're both dead anyways.” She retorted, the foggy feeling in her head starting to fade in favor of frustration. “Unless you've got a portable darkroom in your pockets, it's not safe for you here.”

… Well, now that she said that, she might have an idea. An absolutely insane, ridiculous one, but still.

“... Put me down.” They just had to hope nothing they needed had broken in the fall.

“I know that look.” He gently set them down on a rock, kneeling down at their side between them and the depths of the cave. “You have some hair-brained scheme up your sleeve.”

“Yeah. I'm light proof.” They responded, digging through their bag desperately. There—the small grimoire was slightly damp from the shattered vial of holy water, but still readable. And the soft bundle of cloth with it seemed undamaged.

“... You're going to have to elaborate.” He eyed the book apprehensively, keeping his hands well clear but still staying close. “Did you hit your head?”

Oh, excellent—the little jars of materials had survived, wrapped in their fabric padding. She set them to the side before carefully starting to page through her book.

“I've been learning things that might be useful—protection, warding, that kind of stuff. And some things that just seemed interesting.” Hopefully him being a vampire wouldn't cause problems, but she hadn't had any issues before with non-human subjects. “One of which being a shrinking spell.”

Juniper tensed slightly at their side, putting a hand on their knee to pull them out of their thoughts. “Phoenix. What are you thinking.”

“I can shrink you and keep you out of the sunlight. I'm light proof—it might be a little gross, but if I swallow you-”

“Are you even hearing yourself?” He interrupted, a hand cupping their cheek to turn their head to face him. There was clear concern in his gaze, brows furrowed as he studied them carefully, along with a small amount of apprehension. “Doll, you need a hospital. You're not making sense."

For a brief moment his gaze drifted, settling on the old scars on their neck before flicking towards the mouth of the cave. Red iridescence flashed, overwhelming the rich hazel of his eyes for a brief second and making him look unsettlingly inhuman. With a soft sigh he leaned forward, hand sliding from their cheek to the back of their neck as he pressed a cool kiss to their forehead. “I will be fine. I've survived nearly thirty years on my own without a coven, one sunny day won't do me in. I doubt the sun would even reach this far, anyways.”

Phoenix leaned her head into his touch, reaching up to brush his hand as it returned to her cheek. “My head is fine, John. I know what I'm doing. And there's moss here—it gets at least a bit of sun.”

He looked nervous, glancing away before closing his eyes and sighing heavily. “Couldn't you just put me in a pocket instead?” His voice held a note of apprehension as he spoke. “That seems simpler than… the alternative.”

Her heart squeezed in her chest, and with a soft hum she turned her head just enough to brush a kiss to his palm. “It wouldn't be completely light proof, and I'd be worried about hurting you. But I promise, it'll be okay.”

After a few seconds he hung his head in resignation. They had extensively thought it through, but they also understood it was a lot to drop on him.

“... Fine. But be sure to use some of that protection for yourself—just in case our lurker decides to make a move without me here. And let me out as soon as it gets dark.” He still looked tense, but shifted to sit cross-legged on the cave floor next to them.

“I wouldn't be able to get very far without you, so that's not a worry.” She murmured with a bit of self deprecation—her leg would keep her in place quite efficiently. “It'll just be until sunset. And you can rest if you want—you're up late, for you.”

Juniper snorted softly, a half-grin appearing on his face for a moment. “Always trying to see the positives, aren't you. What all will your spell entail?”

Giving him a soft, reassuring smile, they turned back to their little grimoire and collection of materials, grabbing one of the bottles and holding it up to look at the label—yes, this was the right one. They handed it to him as they spoke. “Not much. It shouldn't take long. Drink this.”

“What is it?” He asked, peering curiously at the dark liquid inside before opening it. She could see him go still out of the corner of her eye as the scent hit him.

“One of the strongest protections I know.” Powerful magic required sacrifice. For this, not much—just a drop or two of her blood, along with several herbs used for protection. No silver, holy water, or wolfsbane, but still just as strong. They were both well aware he'd taken more than a few drops before, and she would freely give up more if asked.

He drank it without a word, like throwing back a shot before setting the bottle down, looking at them expectantly.

“Okay. Now for the other part.” Strictly speaking, the potion hadn't been necessary, as the shrinking magic had some levels of protection built in, but they would rather be safe than sorry. Even if he was a vampire capable of recovering from injuries that would kill most people, he could still feel pain, and they didn't want to run the risk of hurting him, even accidentally.

Pawing through the other bottles, she pulled out a few filled with dried leaves and such, setting them down on the book to hold the pages down. “Are you ready? It's a little disorienting.”

“As I'll ever be.” He murmured, gazing at them with a slightly apprehensive but still trusting look in his eye. They'd had plenty of chances to harm him if they had wanted to, and they both knew it.

“Alright.” With that, she began to read from the grimoire. The materials in the jars took on an eerie blue glow, along with the words on the page, eventually wreathing around Juniper’s body as well. She couldn't look up to see or she'd lose her place, but once she was done she blinked a few times, shaking her head to clear the odd feeling magic always left, before turning to look at- well, where he had been. He was still sitting there, of course, but now at only a few inches tall.

“You weren't exaggerating. This is weird.” His voice was quiet enough they had to strain to hear him, watching as he looked over his hands before looking up at them.

“Do you feel okay?” She asked, setting the book and now-empty jars aside before lowering a hand palm-up to the ground next to him.

“A bit of vertigo, but it seems to be fading.” Getting to his feet, he slowly made his way towards her hand, hesitating for a moment. But he eventually climbed on, a slight, cool weight settling into the center of her palm as he sat down.

They gave him a few moments to get settled before carefully curling their fingers and lifting their hand up towards their face. Raising their other hand, they cupped it slightly around their palm to block any potential stray reflections from outside as they peered at him.

Some part of her was amused at the abstract concept of a tiny vampire, even as the rest of her gently cradled him in her palm as he grabbed at her fingers for stability. He was tense, breathing fast—even though he didn't need to—, fingers digging into her skin in a way that was quickly becoming uncomfortable.

“John- it's okay. You're safe, I've got you.” They murmured, their free hand hovering behind him but not touching—they wanted to provide comfort, but they'd seen him like this before, and knew touch could just end up setting him off worse.

Still, she didn't want to just leave him like this. She bit her lip in thought, humming under her breath before carefully pulling him close and cradling him against her chest—hissing under her breath as she accidentally jostled her leg in the process. He squirmed for a moment, letting out a sharp hiss before stilling. The tension slowly drained from his body as her heart beat slow and steady in her chest.

“Phoenix?” His voice was somewhat shaky when he spoke up, and they peered down at him, shifting their hands to allow him to sit back in their cupped palms.

“I'm sorry—didn't mean to startle you.” They murmured, gently rubbing his shoulder with their thumb. He didn't look at them, keeping his gaze turned down at his own hands resting in his lap.

“I know.” She could only just feel him resting a hand against her thumb, leaning into the touch for the briefest of moments before he looked up at her—squinting a bit in the brightening light from outside. Still not direct, thankfully, but still likely uncomfortable to his eyes. “... We should get on with it. Wasting time.”

“Okay.” They were still worried about him, but he had a point. The later in the day it got, the more likely it was some stray reflection could find its way in. “... Take your shoes off though. S’gross.”

That made him snort, shooting her a somewhat incredulous grin. “That's the thing that bothers you? Really?”

Joking about it eased the tension. Returning his grin with her own, she lifted him up a few inches closer to her face, shifting him into one palm as she did so. “Yeah. Got no idea where those things have been.”

Juniper scoffed, but put his shoes in their free hand when they held it close. The tiny footwear was tucked into the pocket of their shirt, and another moment of silence fell.

“How do you want to do this?” She murmured. It was only fair to let him decide—she knew he hated being at the mercy of others, for entirely understandable reasons. What pieces he'd shared of his past, it rarely ended well.

“Ah, excellent question.” His voice was tense, even as he leaned into their touch. “Just… get it over with, I suppose.”

“Alright.” Lifting him to their face, they paused to brush a light kiss to the top of his head, causing him to flinch slightly before relaxing. After giving him a moment to calm down again, they opened their mouth wide and carefully slipped him inside.

The tiny vampire shuddered, letting out a little sound that she only barely heard as she pulled her hand back. She didn't close her mouth quite yet, instead giving him time to adjust and stop shaking before moving again. After a few moments he let out a breath, untensing and patting her tongue awkwardly, and she slowly closed her jaws—noting with mild curiosity that he seemed to relax a bit more once he was sealed in darkness.

He was cool in their mouth, and oddly refreshing—somewhat like mint. Not what they would have expected, but better than some of the alternatives that had come to mind. With a gentle hum they started to lap at him, trying not to spook him again but also knowing he was big enough it would be uncomfortable if not impossible to swallow him without it. He squirmed a bit, but it seemed more from surprise than distress, as he shortly settled down and allowed them to nudge him around their mouth freely.

After a few moments she paused—he'd told her to get it over with, but now she couldn't help but balk at the thought, her heart speeding up slightly from nerves. Even at this size, he could still do a lot of damage to her if he lashed out—vampires were dangerous, even if it had been a long time since he'd wanted to harm her. But keeping him in her mouth for hours until sunset wasn't much of a solution either—and he was trusting her not to hurt him, so she would return it.

Tilting their head back, they swallowed firmly, wincing a bit as he flailed for the briefest of moments before going still again—that didn't feel particularly pleasant. They could feel him slipping down their throat, a sensation almost akin to swallowing a too-large bite of food, though they supposed it wasn't particularly inaccurate. Not exactly unpleasant, but certainly odd.

He was still noticeably cooler than her body, and she couldn't help but wonder if he would eventually warm up or remain a chilly weight inside her for the entire time.

A gasp escaped her as he finally slid into her stomach, seeming much heavier than he had been in her hands. It was oddly satisfying in a way she didn't want to think about too closely, instead resting a hand over her middle and focusing on him. It took a little bit before he finally moved, which sent a shiver down her spine—not uncomfortable or nauseating like she would have expected, but… almost nice, though a little overwhelming.

“You okay?” They asked, unsure if he would be able to hear them, or they him. He went still for a moment before pressing a hand against her own.

“It's very slimy.” His voice was quiet and they had to focus, but they could hear him. A little huff escaped them at his response, rolling their eyes slightly.

“Better than you burning to a crisp. I'll let you out as soon as it's sundown, alright?” A yawn tried to interrupt her speech, the long, exhausting night starting to catch up with her. It would be several hours until then, she could doze a bit—though she did pull her knife back out of her bag to keep in her hand, just in case.

“Alright. You sound like you could use some rest too, little hunter.” He paused, before chuckling. “... That doesn't quite work right now, does it.”

She hummed, leaning back against the wall and allowing her eyes to drift closed to the sound of wind through the leaves and birds chirping outside the cave. “Nope.”

“Don't do anything stupid while I can't get you out of it. Which means staying put unless you absolutely have to move.” They could feel him poking them to make his point, and shifted in place slightly at the odd feeling.

“I know, I know.”

“Good. … Good night, Phoenix.” The feeling of him leaning back and relaxing sent a rush of warmth and a sudden protective feeling through them. They hummed again, leaving their hand where it rested over their middle—what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. And they were ready to get whatever snatches of sleep they could.

#soft vore #safe vore #i expect you to vore #ieytvore #vore writing #willing vore #vore day 2024 #vore day

8 notes · View notes

pocket-stars · 1 year ago

Note

What is the favorite color of all your ocs

Venus: electric blue

Juniper: periwinkle

Umiko: sunset, the iridescence of certain beetles, oil rainbow, there is beauty in everything around her how can she just pick one color probably teal

Kai: they’re colorblind, they like really vibrant blues because they stand out

Findlay: the coral color in akemi’s hair

Akemi: green

Murray: pink!

#asks #aanonymu s #our ocs #venus #juniper #umiko #kaiyan #findlay #akemi #murray

4 notes · View notes

shadows-below-frozen-seas · 9 months ago

Text

Siren!Vizerxa Lore & facts!

-She lost her sails to Sidera, like how she canonically lost them, except Sidera just directly attacked her instead of messing with her powers.

-She's still a Royal, but sees no reason why it'd ever be important now that her kingdom is long gone. The gold central heterochromia is still the mark of her family.

-She can control the weather instead of just creating ice; she causes blizzards to keep humans away from the arctic to protect the ruins of her home.

-She doesn't know the Fallen Pantheon, nor is it really.. together. Light Song exists & she has followers, but she's not a god. Neither is Vizerxa.

-She has no idea how to talk to people well since she lives completely alone in the Arctic.

-she has venomous fangs, and all of her teeth are sharp.

-She's still able to purr, but still barely ever does it.

-she sounds like she hisses slightly when she speaks, and speaks somewhat slowly.

-All of her scales have a slight red iridescence, but she doesn't take good enough care of herself to maintain it since she doesn't interact with people much, so they seem more muted.

-she's uncomfortable in "warm" water due to her arctic home, but she's able to tolerate it.

might add more eventually.

@juniper-bunch :3

#siren!vizerxa #vizerxa mortem #ooc post

4 notes · View notes

halleyuhm · 2 years ago

Text

WIP INTRO: NaNo project

"Your eyes look like tiny Moons: you are missing your pupils, and although the irises are still there, they are... iridescent. Which sounds pretty, but it makes you look dead. This was a misfire, uh?"

GENRE: Fantasy

AUDIENCE: Young adult / New adult

STATUS: Drafting

COMPS: Cottage core Over the Garden Wall meets The Owl House but the main character is blind. And there is some Full Metal Alchemist looming around.

TROPES: Found family, long lost twin, magical creatures, whimsical scenery, red herrings, elemental powers, the power of love, grief, self-worth, learning to accept one-self...

AESTHETIC: Light pouring through the leaves, walking barefoot, the chirping of birds, the tinkling of stars, the smell of incense and candles, ink and books, whispered spells, butterflies stuck in spiderwebs, refraction in water and glass, flowers blooming on ashes, breath in, nature is telling its secrets.

PLAYLIST(in progress): whimsical nature vibes, witch seances, soft yet powerful female voices...

TAGS: #wip: june, #ghost gala (for a WTW event I joined).

SYNOPSIS:

After losing her sight due to a failed spell, Juniper almost gives up her dream of winning the Witch Trials and becoming a Sun Sage. However, there might be a solution: she could find the Wildfire Hollyhock, a powerful flower said to cure any kind of ailment and that may be able to bring her sight back. Accompanied by her friend Cináed, her not-so-friend Amaya, and her little fae familiar, she departs the Dawn Grove and ventures into a dangerous journey.

However, when she finds a wounded boy in the woods and learns she's not the only one searching for the Hollyhock, June discovers there may be higher stakes at value: new friends, new foes, and a sudden quest to defeat the darkness lurking in the forest. June might be the key to defeating the curses roaming free, and stopping the night from sinking the Dawn Grove into the shadows. That, if she can learn to control her powers, of course.

CHARACTERS:

Juniper: the blinded witch. Her failed spell sets off the plot, and messes with the balance of the world. For her, healing her eyes is more important than fixing what she broke.

Amaya: the healer with no powers. Living in a world where everyone can reach out to the magic energy, she feels pretty out of place, but she would never admit it.

Cináed: the fiery shapeshifter. Found as a baby in the forest, during the worst Wildfire ever seen, and taken in the Coven for protection. His sense of belonging is a little crooked.

Athame: the vampiric guide. A mysterious individual that, as a payment for being healed, offers to guide the group through the cursed lands. Hides many secrets and knows more than what it seems.

Grian: the fae familiar. They are a support for June during her trip, a light, a beacon. Happy to be here, but has some underlying insecurities.

Elowen: the long lost twin. Communicates with June through dreams, but has an agenda of her own. Probably a ghost.

DISCLAIMER:

I'm a plantser and anything could change at any given moment. Let's hope not, but if it happens, I will update this~

#writeblr #writers of tumblr #writeblr community #writing #am writing #wip intro #nano #nanowrimo #nanowrimo project #wip: june #tw: death

13 notes · View notes

bumblebeescribbles · 1 year ago

Text

Juniper Wall Day 2 Part 2 ☀️🌸 Spring 4 🌸☀️ Word count: 2.317

Previous Part ❀ First Part ❀ Next Part

Elari wiped the sweat trickling down their cheeks. Their cotton shirt clung to their skin, despite the number of times they tugged at it. They kicked themself for the hundredth time for not bringing any water or snacks with them.

After grabbing a book about gardening that was surprisingly helpful from the library, she decided to take a trip around Juniper Wall after waving goodbye to Ashni. However, after seeing multiple loving couple greet each other on their porch, it seemed a little too on the nose. She couldn’t find any answers here with the villagers; it all felt so contradictory to her mother in her head. Even if what the naga said was true—that her mother wanted to be a part of the gardening shtick of all things!—there had to be another reason for settling down here.

She wouldn’t find it in the village, that was for sure. No, it had to be somewhere else. Perhaps her mother had settled here after learning a spring of pure magic lay nearby. Or a fabled weapon that only the most worthy could grab was wedged between the harder-than-usual stone.

Where else to look than the forest that circled the village? Everyone knew that if you wanted a quest, you had to go into the forest; all good ones started with a spirit’s face growing from the whirls in tree bark with their nervous whispers dancing in the wind. So the woods had to have the answers.

But even still, Elari never had the best sense of direction.

Rubbing her neck, she nibbled on her lip, surveying where she stood. It was a pretty spot, sure, if you planned on stopping in the middle of a dense forest during what had to surely be the hottest day of the year. With a babbling brook nearby and the sound of birds calling to each other as their only companions, Elari settled on a rock that had been smoothed by previous weary hikers.

She scrubbed her face before resting her elbows on her thighs and staring off into space. So far, she had yet to hear a single giggle of some otherworldly being or something iridescent dart in the corner of her eyes.

All she had seen were squirrels without a single antler and deer that only had two eyes, which, if she was honest, were disappointingly on their faces and nowhere else.

But maybe this was a test to prove her own determination; if they stuck it out, they might see a spirit who would give them all the answers they needed. With grim resolution, Elari stood up and picked a random direction.

The well-worn trail they had walked on now slowly disappeared and transformed into lush undergrowth. As Elari shoved her way through a bush, a thrill of satisfaction twisted in her gut. A spirit had to come out now, right? It wouldn’t just watch her struggle through a prickly bush that, yes, had yanked out pieces of her hair. It would be cruel not to, right?

But apparently, they were dealing with someone who had a mean streak.

Time moved imperceptibly; she didn’t know if she had been in the woods for hours or mere minutes. The bird calls pierced her ears, sounding more like cackles. A trickle of sweat rolled down their stomach. They wiped their forehead with the back of their hand; their mouth was dry and their throat felt swollen. The forest swam in their vision, and they shook their head.

As they caught their breath, hunched over with their bag holding the library book pressing awkwardly against their spine, they waited for anything. It wasn’t like they knew how these meetings started; they had never had an encounter before, but it wasn’t like it was a normal conversation. There had to be signs.

The only one, however, was the gust of wind rustling the leaves that made her shiver.

“Hello?” Elari’s voice was ragged and high-pitched to her ears. She winced, though skittering in the underbrush was her only response. A part of her flushed with embarrassment. What was she doing out here, going off the beaten path?

They pinched the bridge of their nose. The heat became unbearable. But they swallowed back the irritation that stuck in their throat. There’s no reason to lose it; just breathe. Clenching and unclenching her hands, Elari glanced around, her eyebrows furrowing.

She was well and truly lost; she'd been out longer than she expected, if the sun dipping back down again was any sign. Elari rubbed her palms against her closed eyes, attempting to scrub the last couple of hours from her memory.

The world refocused when she opened her eyes again. This was fine; she could fix it. At least that’s what she told herself.

It took her a couple hours to make it back to Juniper Wall, but this time, she had freshly picked peonies in her hand. More triumphant in making her return than anything else, Elari strutted back to the siblings’ house like a proud peacock. The sun had dipped behind the horizon, casting the sky into hues of reds and oranges.

The house was peaceful as she stepped in. Magical orbs made of pure light bobbed, winking around the ceiling like drowsy fireflies. The table was set for two. Someone hummed in the kitchen, the door slightly ajar.

“Anise?” She called in, setting her shoes off to the side.

The gargoyle threw the kitchen door open, carrying large bowls with a grin. “Elari, you're—good gods, you’re filthy!” She balanced the bowls on the table precariously, cutting off the horrifying image of the bowls shattering from Elari’s mind as she yanked her into the house.

“Sorry, I was... out in the woods.” Elari’s sentence ended more like a question. Wincing, she thrusted the peonies at Anise. “I found these for you.”

For a beat, the two stared at the now sad and somewhat drooping bundle. Elari flushed. The sun had made her lose her senses; now, under the sleepy blinking lights above, they looked half alive, some not fully budded.

Anise placed her hand atop Elari’s, beaming. “They’re perfect; I was just trying to decide what to put in the vase.” She plucked them from her grasp before Elari could say anything. While she disappeared into the kitchen again, Elari nudged the bowls safely back on the table, shivering at the now-fading image of something else breaking that day.

Under the stern instructions to wash up (Elari was absolutely terrified of a gargoyle forgetting she brandished a sharp pair of scissors while she spoke), Elari disappeared into the bathroom, letting out a sigh of relief as the cool water hit her face.

Once back, she downed glass after glass of water, barely leaving any room to answer Anise’s questions. Wiping the back of her mouth, she let out a loud sigh, tipping her head backward.

“Better?” Anise teased, resting her cheek against her fist.

Elari grunted, feeling less foggy-headed. “After I left Ashni’s, I headed straight into the woods.”

Sobering, Anise sat up, their smile gone. The lights above accented the darker splotches on her face, chunks of her stone skin long gone. A long crack zigzagged towards her right eye, and Elari blearily wondered if it would continue all the way to Anise’s horn, splitting her head in half. Shaking their head, they copied the gargoyle’s posture, pushing away the thought. One depressing thing at a time.

“Did you find anything out there?”

“Other than a whole buncha regular animals and thorny bushes? No. Nothing.” They scrubbed their face, watching Anise as they served both of them some food. Steam curled up from loaded potatoes, and Elari’s stomach rumbled. The smell of onions and cheese had her mouth watering.

The food disappeared in Elari’s mouth; they inhaled the potatoes, the fruit salad, the freshly made bread—all of it. All the while, Anise said nothing, watching her with an indecipherable expression that twisted Elari’s gut.

Satisfied, she slouched down in the chair, stretching her legs out and folding her hands on her stomach. “I dunno what I was expecting,” she began again, staring at her hands instead of the gargoyle, “just something out there.” Their jaw ticked, tensing.

Then it all poured out: “But I didn’t find anything. And it’s frustrating because I wasted all that time, for what? Dirty flowers?" They gestured at the vase, pushing on even as Anise's mouth opened.

"And I know I just cleaned up; I really do, but I still feel the dirt and dust on me. My head hurts, I’m so tired." Elari knew they were rambling, their palms slicking with sweat. "But y'know what's the most infuriating thing? I didn’t even find a gods-damned normal squirrel! That’s, like, the most basic thing I could’ve found in a forest. The ones here? None of them had wings, Anise, not a single one! They were walking on the ground; can you believe that?”

Anise spluttered, covering her mouth as she spat water everywhere. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I know you’re being serious”—her coughs sounded suspiciously like giggles—“but is that common where you live?”

The question knocked Elari off her irritated pedestal, confusion now warring with her frustration. Her face contorted, and she swung her head sharply to look at Anise. “Yeah? They’re pests,” she said slowly, “They live up in the rafters of homes and chew through wooden beams; we’ve hired a bunch of new adventuring parties to get rid of them. That’s, like, the most basic starting quest for newbies.”

The two stared at each other, before Elari said, eyes narrowing, “So the ones here? No wings?” Anise shook their head. “Oh.” Elari slid further down the chair, her frown deepening. “Then what’s the point of having a suspicious forest surrounding a small village if there aren’t any weird magical beings out here? That’s the definition of where a mysterious spirit would live and hand out weird relics or whatever.”

Anise stood up, gathering the plates. For a moment, they were quiet before they patted Elari’s shoulder. “It’s just a forest, s’all.” Elari harumphed.

Just as they were about to walk into the kitchen, they turned back around, hand on their hip. “You’re going to head back into the forest, aren’t you?” At Elari’s slight shrug, Anise sighed, before brightening. “Alright then. Why don’t the two of us go on a hike later? I can show you how non-magical and normal this forest is, and we can ensure you don’t get sun poisoning.” With a pointed look, they added, “Again.”

That didn’t sound all too bad. Perhaps where Elari had been was the wrong part of the forest; hadn’t they heard the stories of groves hidden deep? She hadn’t tried hard enough. That was it. “I’d like that, actually.”

“Wonderful! I usually wake up when the sun goes down, so let's plan for tomorrow night. Unless you’re busy?”

Elari spread her arms out, eyebrows raised. “That’s wildly optimistic of you; unless you count wandering around the village like a lost dog plans, I don’t think I do.”

With a grin that seemed to deepen the fissures in her skin, Anise pushed the door in with her hip. "Oh, and, Elari? The flowers are fine, great even."

After Anise waved her offer away to help clean up, Elari tipped the chair backward as she thought. This would be a great thing. At the very least, she could spend time with her host. Or one of them, to be precise.

Although she hadn’t expected something to rapidly change, it made her stomach clench at how much Botan appeared to be avoiding her; she hadn’t seen him all day, and Anise clearly hadn’t expected him to join them both for dinner. They didn’t have a single idea of how to even start working on that; it was like they needed to fix a relationship that was broken even before they opened their mouth.

But one sibling liking her out of two was pretty good odds, wasn’t it? That had to count for something.

Elari threw her arm over her eyes, groaning softly. It was just the second day, and all her promises bubbled in the back of her head, threatening to boil over. Gods, she had expected this to be cathartic, if not relaxing. She had met three new people in the past 24 hours, and there was that silent expectation to keep at least two of them updated on where she was. Even though she had helped her father in their family tavern, this sort of interaction felt wildly out of place to her. She couldn’t fill in the silence by asking Ashni or Anise if they wanted a refill or if they were sure they didn’t want the new special.

Apparently, her first instinct in silence was to spill her guts out. Hellsfire. And Anise had been kind enough to move the conversation onto something else. Elari had obviously overstepped and had made the gargoyle uncomfortable.

Glad that her self-pitying sighs were covered by dishes clinking and water pouring out, Elari opened her eyes. She’d make sure to stay within the boundaries, or she’d eat the wilting peonies.

This village made her oversaturated with promises. They huffed, getting to their feet. It had been easier back in the city, knowing that if she had emotionally stepped on someone’s feet, she’d probably never see them again. But here? It felt close, like everyone knew each other’s secrets and whispered confessions.

Elari stared out the guest bedroom’s window, giving her a wide view of the fountain. Although no lights were on in the room, she still shivered and closed the curtains. It was unnatural to be this close to the dirt path outside; someone could easily come right up and climb in.

Discomfort roiling in her stomach, she curled up on the cot to face the curtained window. Without the constant murmurs of folks out late into the morning, carriages and carts clattering against the stone-cobbled road, or the crackling of another rookie street magic fight, Elari lay there, stock still in the silence.

Notes:

Do your Best!! (finding a book on gardening) - Strong Hit

Ask the Forest Spirit: is Botan nearby? - no, and it complicates things

Try your Best!! (finding peony [1]) - Weak hit

Ask the Forest Spirit: is there something in the woods that made her mother like the town so much? - no

Try your Best!! (finding peony [1]) - Weak hit

Ask the Forest Spirit: are flowers Anise’s favorite gift? - No

Sharing is Caring - give Peonies (2) to Anise

#iron valley #juniper wall #solo ttrpg #indie ttrpg #solo journaling rpg #writblr #actual play

2 notes · View notes

onlyhurtforaminute · 2 years ago

Text

youtube

FUOCO FATUO-JUNIPERS OF BLACK IRIDESCENCE

#FUOCO FATUO #FUNERAL DOOM #FUNERAL DOOM METAL #DOOM #DOOM METAL #METAL #HEAVY METAL #DEATHDOOM #THE VIPER SLITHERS IN THE ASHES OF WHAT REMAINS #2014 ALBUM #Youtube

2 notes · View notes

snarkformysanity · 11 days ago

Text

House of Earth and Blood Chapters 83-84

The book now finally allows us to see the portal to hell. Bryce is running to her apartment, carrying Syrinx.

People screamed as winged, scaled demons soared out of the Gate—demons from the Pit itself.

Given I can't remember which of the seven synonym-named layers the Pit is, this probably doesn't have the dramatic impact the book intends.

At her building, she yelled at Marrin to get into the basement

..........who's Marrin?

Anyway, Bryce leaves Syrinx in her apartment with some food and water, and grabs what weapons she can - Danika's sword, and some of Hunt's guns which I presume he left behind. Then she goes out onto the roof and realises that every city gate has turned into a portal to hell.

She calls Juniper, who tells us that the powers that be are going to close the shelter gates early, and aren't letting in humans, because of course. Then she sends a message to Jesiba, and runs off into the city.

POV switch to Hunt, again, because of course. They're watching the chaos unfold on the screens, which apparently have a feed from all the cameras in the city. Sure, whatever. Otherwise we might have to actually go to where the action is happening to see it, and we can't have that. Action is for other books.

Demons he recognized with chilling clarity—the worst of the worst—poured into the city through the Gates. Demons that had been an effort for him to kill. The people of Lunathion didn’t stand a chance.

Given we've seen very little of Hunt's fighting skills in action, and the main one we did see was him getting his ass handed to him by the kristallos, this doesn't actually sound as dire as the book thinks. Especially since he then goes on to say:

Not the urbane, clever demons like Aidas. No, these were the grunts.

You know "grunt" usually refers to like, the lowest-tier, weakest solider, right? The cannon fodder? Way to undermine your own tension, book. Also, I forgot about Aidas. Why can't he come back?

In FiRo, the iridescent bubbles of the villas’ defense enchantments already gleamed. Locking out anyone poor or unlucky enough to be on the streets. It was there, in front of the ironclad walls of the city’s richest citizens, that the Aux had been ordered to go. To protect the already safe. Hunt snarled at Sabine, “Tell your packs there are defenseless homes where they’re needed—” “These are the protocols,” Sabine snarled back. Amelie Ravenscroft, at least, had the decency to flush with shame and lower her head. But she didn’t dare speak out of turn. Hunt growled, “Fuck the protocols.” He pointed to the screens. “Those assholes have enchantments and panic rooms in their villas. The people on the streets have nothing.”

This is an interesting dilemma. Or at least, it would be in a better book, who handled it with nuance instead of a "rich=bad (except for main characters ofc)" bludgeon.

Because while, yes, the moral aspect definitely says that you shouldn't leave defenceless people with nothing in order to defend the already safe, there's also a practical element to consider. We have no idea what kind of defence infrastructure the city has, but odds are, it's not going to be in the slums and open streets. Sure, you can send soldiers down there to protect the people - but if the soldiers are exposed, they're just as likely to be ripped apart as everyone else, and then you've got both dead poor people and dead soldiers. If the soldiers are in the same place as the magical force fields, though, they can leverage that to keep themselves alive longer and kill more demons.

It also depends on the motivations of the attackers. If it's a kill-'em-all kind of deal, then yeah, they're going to go after both poor and rich indiscriminately. If it's a "kill as many as possible, as quickly as possible" or "cause as much chaos as possible", they're probably going to prioritise the poorly-defended areas of the city. But if it's a "loot and pillage" type deal, they're going to go after the rich areas, because the poor don't have anything to loot.

But, as it is, we know neither of these bits of information - the distribution of the city's defences or the motivation of the army. The Autumn King tells us this:

“The protocols are in place for a reason. We will not abandon them to chaos.”

But that's all we get. The only view we're presented with is that of course it's all corrupt and the protocols are wrong, but..... well, I'm not inclined to trust Hunt's judgement in this regard. We already know he's blind to most of his own shortcomings and is a lone-wolf type who cannot follow orders or work with others. And it feels really wrong to say, because normally I'm all for "eat the rich" type rhetoric. But that's what this book has done to me.

Isaiah was on the phone across the room. “No, that time warp was just some spell that went wrong, Naomi. Yeah, it caused the Gates to open. No, get the 33rd to the Old Square. Get them to the Old Square Gate right now. I don’t care if they all get ripped to shreds—”

Excellent trait to have in a commander, not caring if the troops get ripped to shreds. This does suggest that the bulk of the city isn't very defensible, though.

We get many, many descriptions of various people trying to call other people. I get it, that's what we do in the world of phones when there's a panic, but that doesn't make it very interesting to read about.

Ruhn and Flynn dialed number after number. No one answered. As if the Fae leaders left in the city were all dead, too.

Or, you know, are busy fighting the demons. Or they weren't able to grab their phone before chaos broke out. There's lots of possibilities.

Sabine got through. “Ithan—report.” Declan wordlessly patched Sabine’s number through to the room’s speakers.

This is getting a bit ridiculous. What are you patching it with?

Hypaxia randomly announces that she's going in, and when questioned, says it's because she'd rather die like "her" than sit here doing nothing, and points dramatically at the screen. Of course, she's pointing at Bryce.

[Bryce] roared something, over and over. Declan locked into the feeds, changing from camera to camera to follow her down the street. “I think I can pull up her audio and isolate her voice against the ambient noise,” he said to no one in particular.

Maybe this world is what happens after AI takes over everything. Stuff starts making a lot more sense.

Anyway, apparently it's really important we realise that Bryce is yelling for people to get into the shelters. Just in case they hadn't figured that out for themselves, yet, I guess. You know what would be even better? Being in Bryce's head as she's actually doing shit, instead of sitting here listening to other people talk about how they can't do shit.

Anyway, it seems Bryce is headed for the human part of town, the meadows. We get like a half-page POV switch of her shooting demons before the chapter ends.

Hunt couldn’t take his eyes from the feed of Bryce battling her way through the city.

Maybe Hunt can't, but the book sure can! Why are we back with you? Take us back to Bryce. It's exciting where she is. There's dramatic tension. She might be killed by a demon! Here, the only tension is that Hunt might have to watch Bryce be killed by a demon, and believe it or not that's actually not quite as compelling as you seem to think, book.

Apparently, Micah broke all means of transport from the conference centre before he left. I call bullshit, because while the book tries to play it off as "anticipating keeping them at bay while he experimented with the Horn’s power," I'm disinclined to agree. He had no intention of opening portals to hell. It's just to milk cheap tension here instead of taking us to where the actual fucking tension is.

But, turns out Fury has a helicopter which she conveniently didn't park with everyone else's, so it's okay. Was it worth it, book? Was it worth making me read three paragraphs of fake-tension that you're going to resolve just like that?

Hunt starts demanding that Sabine send wolves to where Bryce is, but Sabine tells him there aren't any wolves left. Then, the Prime wolf (Danika's grandfather, Sabine's father) wakes up from his doze and declares that there is a wolf in Old Square, because Bryce has the heart of a wolf, or something. Whatever. I don't care. I'm still annoyed that we're here, listening to people make phone calls, instead of with Bryce, chopping up demons.

Hunt calls the Viper Queen and.... then we have a scene break to two minutes later. Really? Was Hunt calling the Viper Queen so dramatic it warranted a scene break? Or rather, was it so not-dramatic you felt the need to shove a scene break in there to give it the illusion of drama? Sweet Jesus I am sick of this.

Well, two minutes later, we're about to get in the helicopter to go to the action when somebody else's fucking phone rings, and we have to stop for that. It's Jesiba's phone, and Bryce is calling her.

“Bring it up on the speakers and merge the call with the Aux lines,” Jesiba ordered Declan, and answered the phone. “Bryce?”

Ruhn vaulted down the stairs and ran right to the speaker in the center of the table. He said to it, “Bryce, it’s a massacre. Get inside that shelter before they all shut—”

Ruhn. You need to speak into a microphone. The speaker is literally the opposite of a microphone. Bryce won't hear shit if you're talking to a speaker.

And no, do not try to tell me that the speaker and the mic are right next to each other. That is a one-way ticket to screeching feedback. Unless that speaker is only for computer stuff and doesn't have any mics going through it. The middle of the table is admittedly a weird place to put a speaker. It's a vaguely more sensible place to put a microphone, if you're limited in the number of mics and have to make do with what you have. And it's an omni-directional mic. Many of them aren't, especially in live settings.

“There’s no backup for Asphodel Meadows,” Sabine said. “Every pack is stationed—” “There are children here!” Bryce screamed. “There are babies!”

And.... are there not children in other parts of the city?

Look..... going back to those "protocols" the Autumn King mentioned, one thing that's very, very important during emergency situations is that people don't do random shit on their own. The reason? Communication is limited, information is scattered and incomplete, and everyone is scared. You will often have no way of knowing what your allies are doing at a given moment, because in real life, people generally can't sit on their phones in conference calls while fighting off hordes of demons. Thus, organisations will develop "protocols," so that they know what all their friends should be doing, even if they can't contact them, and know that any deviation from this means that something is wrong.

Fire evacuation procedures are a good example of this. Most large buildings will have multiple zones to which people will evacuate, and often, you'll have to go to a specific one depending on where in the building you're working, or what department you're in. The reason? So they can easily tell if you didn't manage to get out. As soon as you make it out of the burning building, go to your designated zone - there'll be a list there with your name on it, and they'll check you off as safe.

But if you decide to hang out in another zone because that's where your friend is or whatever, there's a non-zero chance that your safety is not communicated to the relevant parties (bc all the phones are tied up calling the fire department and whatnot), and they will probably think you're still trapped somewhere in there. People might be sent in to save you, people who don't know you're actually safe and sound, and they may be killed or injured trying to save your life, not knowing their mission is pointless.

A more relevant example might be a squadron fighting demons that's getting overwhelmed. Their instructions might be to hold x location, but if they must withdraw, to go to y location and help z squadron hold that. But if they reach y location and z squadron has fucked off to save Hunt's girlfriend, well, not only is the first squadron gonna die without the reinforcements they thought would be there, but the demons will now hold both x and y location.

Enough unpredictable things happen during disasters without deliberately fucking up your emergency procedures. So even if Hunt is right (and that's a big if - I flagged a lot of Bryce's earlier hypocrisy regarding anti-rich matters in the book, I have no reason to think Hunt is any better) and the soldiers are unfairly distributed, randomly reassigning them around the city will most likely do a lot more harm than good at this point.

Communication is limited. Every time you do something different to the plan, no one else knows.

Ugh, well, it doesn't matter, because Ithan and the wolf pack at the Den say they're going to help Bryce.

Hey, you know what? I distinctly remember the book describing wolf-children to us when Bryce and Hunt went to the Den earlier in the book. But fuck those kids, I guess?

And honestly, it could be fine, if it weren't just so all-or-nothing. All the wolves are going with Ithan. Sabine doesn't want any of them to leave. All they had to do was leave some to hold the fort (and have Sabine approve it), and the stupidity would be significantly lessened.

Then, we get a third of a page of Ithan's POV, as he runs through the city and all the other vaguely-canine shifters join the run. Something about how dogs protect the weak, or something. Honestly, if these canines are all citizens/free agents, this is fine, and kind of a cool image. If they're soldiers though, well. See my ranting above.

#house of earth and blood #crescent city #snark #chapter snark #sarah j maas

0 notes

decaffeinatedpaperobject · 10 months ago

Text

A Day in Tranquillia

very small writing blurb my friend and i's shared universe words: 273

Harmony sat, dosing slightly against her tree. Their ears drooped tiredly as sun beat down on her fur, even the bees retiring to their hive for a quick moment of rest. A soft rumble erupted from the depths of the bear’s chest, honey set aside in the grass. Their crown, made of flowers, white daisies, peonies and the like was tipped downward, half covering her eyes. Juniper was curled up next to them, basking lazily in the sun. He’d taken off his wide cloak, which was currently inhabited by a small hare Harmony had seemingly adopted. Yellowish eyes glinted in the sunlight, almost iridescent in what was considered the purest form of natural light. It was warm, and peaceful. Birds twittered gently around his head, one nestled in his wispy curls. Death’s domain was small. They hardly resided there, hating the sound of utter silence. There was no breathing, no birds chirping, not even a rustle of a leaf, just dark and so, so cold. They were out, at the moment, as they usually were, glowing white snout nuzzling at a sick child. They would be taken to the After soon. The After. He’d been there many, many times, more than he’d been on Quterria itself. It was a large, hollowed out space that the Creator had added, just beneath Tranquillia. You could see it if you hung your head over the edge of War’s domain. You could hear the calls of the dead, lost and scared. Some laughing manically, some giving up and lulling themselves into a half-sleep. It doesn’t matter who you were, or how you were during life. You will go to the After. It is inescapable.

#my writing #my characters #ocs

0 notes

theshoegirldiaries · 1 year ago

Text

LOTD: Benefit Plushtint in 06 Pillow Play. #Scentoftheday More Sex EDP By Charlotte Tilbury.

First impressions reviews, day 2; As you can see I bought a lot of the new Benefit Splashtint and Plushtint lip tints. I think the packaging is cute, Splashtint especially, as it has a beautiful green iridescence to it and the holographic lettering. Above on the left is 01 Skinny Dip (Splashtints are the odd numbers), then Plushtint (even numbers) in 02 Cream Puff, 06 Pillow Play and 08 Cloud Fine. All are moisturizing lip tints; Splashtint has a dewy finish (hence the shiny packaging) and Plushtints are matte (hence the frosted packaging). Both have different applicators which I thought was interesting, the dewy one is a curved teardrop, the matte, reminds me of a shoehorn. It's very narrow (precise), but has more curves on the sides (like an hourglass) than regular slanted doe-foot applicators.

There was little in the way of swatches and reviews when I ordered these, but I thought I'd picked the lighter, more nude or rosy shades and avoided the brights, though I was most unsure about 08 (dreaded orange). However upon swatching, I don't mind that one! I hate the Splashtint I got (orange!), the red applicator on that threw me instantly, but the product on it looked alright. What I'm seeing through the bottom of the bottle doesn't appear to match up with the swatches and more importantly, the lips. The one I'm reviewing today (06 Pillow Play) looks nothing like the arm swatch, so keep that in mind.

Pillow Play was a bold, bright pink on my lips (on it's way to neon, but not quite), definitely not the rosy shade it appears in the swatch above. The applicator, while precise is a bit of a fiddle if I'm honest. I wanted to cover more of my lips quicker than it was doing (and this is from someone who doesn't have big lips). It applies with that blurring, very matte finish (again not really how they swatched-I tried blotting my arm swatches to 'dry' them off a bit after these photos, but it didn't really work). It initially felt quite nice on the lips, but I did find it a little drying once it started to dry down. I didn't apply gloss on top as I wanted to see how it worked alone. The only colour that left a stain on my arm was the Splashtint. It survived eye-makeup remover and several washes with soap and water. It didn't come off until the next day when I scrubbed it in the shower. The mattes just wiped clean off with the makeup remover, so I wouldn't recommend those if it's a genuine long-lasting tint you're looking for. So all in all, not a great experience with these, I'm not rushing to try out the others tbh.

I mentioned yesterday that I've trialled several perfumes recently and never gotten around to reviewing them-this discovery set, I bought exactly for that. I'll try and finish my reviews of the others at some point, but the last one I had to try was More Sex (is it only me that rolls my eyes at that name?), which is the top one here, the red bottle. Ignoring all the guff about emotions and claims of magic powers and the like (seriously), I just want to talk about how this smells. More Sex is an Amber/Woody fragrance, which launched recently and was designed by Anne Flipo. It has top notes of Black Pepper and Juniper Berries. Middle notes of Leather, Musk, Aldron and Ambroxan and a base of Musk, Sandalwood and Amberwood.

I left this one until last as it appealed to me least. In my fragrance journey over the past year or so, I've realised leather, oud, animalic type notes are not something I enjoy or want to smell of. As far as leather scents go though, this is on the lighter side. The leather is definitely there, just not loudly reeking! The sillage is decent, I got wafts throughout the day. Hours later, I noticed a (pleasant) mens cologne type smell in the air, which had to be this as it seemed to be coming from me, but upon sniffing my arm I just couldn't detect anything other than the leather. 7 hours in and that cologne smelling sillage is more powerful than the soft leathery scent left on my arm where I initially sprayed. Strange. Longevity was excellent. I didn't hate it, but I don't see myself reaching for it. This is definitely the most unisex leaning one in the line-up (but as I always say, wear whatever you want).

#charlotte tilbury #benefit #makeup #perfume #fragrance #cosmetics #beauty #bbloggers #pink haired princess #lotd

1 note · View note

odukora-lore · 1 year ago

Text

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

✧ OC MASTERLIST ✧

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

↓

Genesis Era

The Goddesses

✧ Revontulet

❀ Borealis

Before the Fall

🕯️ Lightcatcher

💎 Elouise

Rulers of Cloud Cliffs

🌧️ Lufiere Hyetal Seraph

⚡ Raiko "Kaori" Fragor

Royal Assistants

-Halo

-Murk

The Guardian Guild

🪐 Airiwn Fylios

🏔️ Kimoru Serenity

☕ Dusleth Nocturne

🍰 Rurene Pekoe

💐 Meraki Amaranth

🍄 Kahdeina Luster

Former Keepers of the Empyrean

-Azimuth/Aerolite (Marzipan)

-Cliff (Zingiber)

- - - - - - -

Medieval Era

[Swan Feather]

🌨️ Heron Solstice

🗡️ Dulcet Plumehart / 🍊 Tangelo "Tangerine" Yuzu

-Lychee Kasturi

-Gyoza Enoki

-Jay Warren

-Cayenne Cassia

-Marimo

-Falene Sonnet

-Anise Azolla

-Pomelo Yuzu

-Hyacinth

-Bonsai

The Last Monarchs

🌕 Gandoline Lunaris

🦋 Mariposa Solstice

Ancestors of Elwood

-Rogue

-Aurrea

- - - - - - -

War Era

[Sundowner]

-Budgie

-Enoki

-Lentil

-Puddles

-Daffodil

-Carvin

-Keybolt

-Pretzel

- - - - - - -

Modern Era

[The Eternal: Fallout]

🌻 Helio Gaharu

🌷 Jingle Tinsel

🪶 Truffle Elnath

🌙 Sereina Skyscape

🍀 Clover Rowan

🌿 Lyrin Tinsel

🌲 Juniper Penzai

☄️ Pepper Flint

🌼 Mallow Cassia

🌟 Orion “Rigel” Skyscape

🪵 Oak Elwood

🍃 Birch Elwood

🔮 Etamyal / 🕯️ Atcher Lucerne

💫 Asteria Polaris/ 🪷 Eureka Elnath

👑 Eridani/Cygnus Polaris

🧊 Conifer Penzai

🍁 Maple Elwood

🍂 Red Elwood

🌳 Cedar Elwood

🍯 Chamomile Cassia

-Harper Tinsel

-Marmalade

-Crimson

Team Pets

🍬 Toffee

🥖 Churro

---

[Paradigm of Empyrean]

☁️ Cinnamon Swirl

🪴 Bramble Carver

🌖 Nyxium Lunaris

🗻 Aaron Reneirre

🔖 Reese Dominique

🌀 Zephyr Whirlwind

🌸 Whisper Himiko/Lullaby Larkspur

🌋 Topaz “Shade” Reneirre

🌒 Mythical Lunaris

🌾 Peachi Fernweh

📜 Aspen Elwood

🌹 Ashling Crimson/Hawthorn Oblivion

🌱 Aichi Fylios Serenity

🌺 Amber Reneirre

🪨 Slate Brickedge

🪽 Feather Brooke

🍒 Cherry Parfait

Team Pets

🖍️ Crayon

---

[Where Time Meets Destiny]

🫐 Sparklyn Neptune Dreams

🍪 Koru Choco Pudding

🍈 Honeydew Droplet Springs

☀️ Horizon Dusk Skies

🧁 Macaroon Chiffon Cake

❄️ Winter Southwest Snow

🍮 Caramel Flairne Ryunashi

🌰 Gingersnap Ralfie Breeze

-Ace

-Carrots

-Snowball

-Snowdrop

-Shamrock

-Slither

-Marigold Dawn Skies

-Daisy Dawn Skies

-Simnel Chiffon

-Suzette

-Madeira

-Archer

-Estrella "Star"

- - -

[Cupid's Serenade]

🎀 Angie "Cupid"

🎵 Azalea "Siren"

-Whitney

-Erina

-Berry

- - -

[Cabbage Peak]

-Zest

-Basil

-Mace

- - -

[Weather Headquarters]

-Snowfall

-Sunshine

-Raindrop

-Windbreeze

-Cloudskies

-Thunderstorm

-Lightstrike

-Moondust

-Aeris

- - - - - -

Future Era

[The Sun is a Star]

🫧 Marble Meredith

✨ Skylar Altair

-Soleil Altair

🚀 Cirrus

⚙️ Periwinkle "Vinca"

-Crocus

[Tales of Iridescence]

🫐 Sparklyn Neptune

☘️ Arctic "Bonbon" Marlowe

🐾 Gale Luscinia

🍨 Vanilla Sundae

🌑 Shadow Lune

- Wisp “Auster” Chronos

- - - - - - -

[ Misc ]

Liru's Explorers of the East

-Drake Verano

-Matthew Agaros

-Nemui Kou

-Heather Aki

-Gray Brickedge

-Solar Bituin

-Thunder Raiden

-Faye Miyako

-Elaine Trinidad

-Echo Chronos

-Lukas Eunil

-Celine Meowth

-Katsuri

-Bluebell

The Youngsters

-Tirami Tinsel

-Jayde Penzai

-Parsley Flint

-Dahlia Gaharu

-Autumn Skyscape Elwood

-Melody

-Creampuff

-Crystal

-Beatrice

-Hope Miraclella

-Fauna Lavendery

-Meadow Juniper

-Dreamy Cottontail

-Penelope Blossom

-Amber Crystalline

1 note · View note

midnightenigmados · 2 years ago

Text

It was a crude drawing made of blood.

It appeared to be a pentagram made of individual symbols and flourishes, except the symbols themselves were messy and disordered and the lines they created were sloppy. Placed in the center of the drawing, Tim could spot multiple splotches and smears where someone must have accidentally brushed upon the floor with the still drying blood.

His kidnappers may be skilled in their tricks to capture him, but artistry, they were not.

Alas, he figures, it is not often that his guard is let down as it had been tonight, they must have jumped at the chance and rushed to complete whatever preparations previously made.

A chemical attack by the Riddler set an entire apartment ablaze and Tim had been tasked to rescue those inside. The suddenness of the blast had left many unaware and left him no choice but to sacrifice not only his spare gas masks but his own personal one as he came upon entire families stranded within the burning building.

Practical he may be, but he cannot simply leave a child to the whims of carbon dioxide as he takes their siblings to safety.

With the combination of the odd mix of chemicals and carbon dioxide, it was no wonder the cultists found him easy pickings when he finally found respite in the nearby alley.

At least he had the sense in him to place a tracker on one of the attackers before he was taken and stripped of his equipment. For now he’d have to bide his time until his family would be free of the Riddler to assist in his own escape.

That is, if he could get his mouth to move.

The heavy scent of iron mixed with the sage, juniper, and myrrh burning from the candles placed strategically around and outside the circle penetrated Tim’s nostrils even as he avoided breathing through them.

Purification herbs.

He wondered if their main purpose was to cleanse him before sacrifice or to simply hide the drugs laced within the candles.

An odd choice of incense if it was the latter.

The candles themselves were an odd assortment. The majority were the typical long candelabra ones, flipping between black and red in placement, but Tim could spot the odd thicker one one the outside with black wax that dripped over a red base as well as–

Was that a hand?

Tim supposed it was a nice mix up to the usual skull based adornments.

The little red duck candle at his feet was cute at least, if a bit out of place.

…Maybe he was hallucinating.

He blinked.

Next thing he knew there were twenty robed people standing around the circle, one for each candle. Every third robe sat yet another candle between them. This one in the shape of a black skull with triquetras engraved on the forehead and decorated throughout.

So much for the mix up.

When had they even gotten there? Tim was slipping. The air grew heavy as the chanting began. To give credit where credit was due, some of the people there actually seemed quite proficient in the not-latin, not-spanish language, but it was clear not all.

Despite his muddled state, Tim could hear the stutters clear as day as they attempted to speak in unison. Such is the fate of a natural polyglot. He knew not the language they spoke, nor was he able to make out the words as his world began to tilt, but he could hear the inconsistencies, the uncertainties, the anxieties.

Or maybe that was something else.

The lights stuttered and flickered to green, the trails of red on the ground grew luminescent and erupted into their own emerald flame, growing larger but the second and startling a few of the cultists backwards.

Tim was just starting to ponder if the drugs were getting to his head when he found himself afloat over a large Lazurus pit. One that swirled instead of bubbled.

He couldn’t find it in himself to react.

Tim really hoped this was the drugs.

A massive claw emerged below him, easily the size of his torso. Covered in black scales with an iridescent shine, it could easily eclipse his form if it held him.

An eternity passed, or possibly a few seconds, but a second claw soon followed. The waters rippled where they were disturbed and Tim watched as they traveled further and further away from their starting point to meet their sisters in the center of the pool. Tim waited with baited breath for the resulting disruption of the waves, but instead the very pool beneath him glowed a fierce neon.

It was then that Tim watched before his very eyes as a head that appeared to be a mix between a snake and a lion materialized beneath him, lifting itself further upwards until it sat directly in front of him.

It was then that he belatedly realized that in the course of the portal appearing, that his restraints had disappeared and that he was floating freely some twenty feet in the air. His freedom mattered not, however, as he found himself fully unable to move in the gaze of the creature before him. Its five eyes seemed to hold the universe in them, with its greens and purples and blues. Its scales continued to cover its body here, although its face was much more of that of a lion, with its muzzle and teeth. A mane of brilliant white flowed down its serpentine body until it stopped just before the body disappeared beneath the portal.

Tim held its gaze, captivated in the pure pressure its presence gave off. Time held still as it seemed to hold his very soul but eventually it passed its judgment with a tilt of its head.

A rather innocent gesture for something so terrifying to behold.

Eternity turned to moments and moments to seconds and suddenly the creature had surrounded him, blocking Tim from the cultist’s view. Its body, long and scaly, gave off a gentle glow. Six magnificent wings emerged from its back as four more pairs of limbs allowed it to rest upon the ground and the portal faded away.

Tim found himself floating closer to the ground as the walls of fire diminished to simple flames flickering at the summoner’s feet. The fog lifted from his mind as the forces holding him deposited him softly onto the newly exposed floor, but his body still refused to cooperate.

All he could be certain of in the moment was that the creature they had summoned here had decided to spare him for whatever reason.

Who dares summon me?

The voice did not come from any direction. Tim struggled to call it a voice at all. It resonated in his head, deep within his soul, with a power so intrinsic to its existence that Tim could feel the instinctual need to bow where he lay, had his body been capable of such.

The ruffle of fabric, however, deemed the cultists in full capacity to follow such soul bearing orders, even if Tim was unable to see them at the moment.

“Forgive us, Your Everlasting Majesty” The relatively normal voice, on the other hand, was a shock to his system in comparison,” we are the Sons and Daughters of the Darkness.”

Tim really wished he could roll his eyes at the moment.

“We have long since heard of the predicament you have been in and sought to free you of your shackles of slumber such that you may take reign in your rightful place in this world once again. As you can tell, we have done much research and devoted our very being to your cause.”

Shackles of slumber? Pray tell, mortal, could you be discussing of the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep?

“Indeed, O Powerful One! Have we not freed you of your prison?”

And what have you to gain, from such endeavors?

“Nothing, Your Fearsomeness, but fulfillment of our most true desires. To pledge our infinite fealty to, Your Highness, Pariah Dark! The namesake of our clan!”

And you wished to do so with purifying herbs and symbols?

“Wha-”

No, do not speak. I fear your feeble brain may not be able to handle the speed of which you open your mouth.

There was a shifting of the body surrounding him as the being seemed to adjust.

You. Wherefore did you acquire this knowledge?

“I-in the ruins o-of a little town called Am-Amity, Your Unholiness.” The voice shook as she spoke, unable to find stability in the pressure surrounding her.

There was a pause as the creature seemed to take in this information, but Tim could feel the moment it had made its decision.

Burn thy knowledge and cease this foolishness at once. Pray that we never cross paths again for this Pariah Dark you speak of is no more.

There was a great flash and Tim found himself suddenly capable of movement. The air cleared up and the wall of scales disappeared, allowing him insight to the rest of the room.

It was empty.

The cultists were long gone with no trace of their existence in the first place. The ethereal green flames of the candles had died down to a simmering red and the circle itself had faded back to its dry blood appearance. Even the creature, massive that it was, was nowhere to be found.

In their place stood a boy.

A teenager young enough to be in high school with blinding white hair that flowed without gravity and eyes brighter than the portal that had nearly swallowed Tim whole mere moments prior. A crown of ice floated gently above his head as frost floated down and encompassed his head, refracting the flickers of candle light around them to create a sort of halo outside of his soft aura. A cape sewn from the stars itself danced at his feet as he stood at the side of the circle examining three floating candles in front of him.

It had almost appeared regal, if not for the words that escaped the boy's mouth.

“I brought you myrrh,” He mimicked under his breath, “Myrrh-der.”

“Judas, no.” Out of instinct, Tim replied, immediately regretting it as his eyes locked onto Tim’s.

For a moment, Tim felt as if he was under the gaze of a microscope, more acute and more pointed than Batman could ever hope to achieve. As if the heaven’s above were watching him and passing judgment.

For a moment, Tim felt the very same pressure as he had upon the gaze of the creature.

But, then the kid smiled and it all disappeared, as if it was never really there in the first place. Yet another trick of his mind.

Tim had a headache.

This boy…could he possibly be…?

He certainly appeared ethereal enough, but quoting vine references?

The kid was talking again, an unnatural echo bouncing through the air as he floated towards him.

“-od, I was worried you were unconscious. You okay now?” His face held a gentle smirk as he leaned over in a pseudo bow with his hand extended for Tim to take.

The change in the manner of speech nearly gave Tim whiplash, throwing him off further, and he narrowed his eyes at the hand before ignoring it in favor of the warehouse.

He was perfectly fine on the floor, thank you very much.

“I’m good, thanks,” He replied absentmindedly, fighting off any reactions to the waves of pain the simple action of speaking gave him, “Where are the cultists?”

The kid paid no heed, but kept his arm extended as he tilted his head in thought, wisps of hair flickering around his head, “Arabia, I think. Don’t worry, I’m well aware of Batsy’s rule. No killing in Gotham.”

Tim snapped his eyes up to the boy, biting down his instinct to cower in the face of the glowing green eyes, “So, you’ll kill them in Arabia instead?”

He flinched back in disgust, the movement small but precise, “I don’t plan on killing them at all? All souls will come to me eventually, there’s no reason to rush an inevitability. I just didn’t want them here.”

That…didn’t really make Tim feel much better.

But, he didn’t seem to hold any malice at the moment, “Who are you?” He asked, because if the kid was going to be cooperative, the very least Tim could do was get some answers.

The smirk was back again, “You may call me Phantom,” He wiggled his fingers.

Tim took his hand.

It was then that the skylights burst in.

DPxDC Prompt

Summoning is an imperfect art, mispronouncing a name or having an incorrect symbol can lead to unexpected, and sometimes explosive results. Summoning can open unexpected doors. No one's prepared for what--or who--steps through when a rising gang tries to summon backup.

My little ficlet for this is below the cut:

Smoke. The acrid slam of it in the nose, brought on by the screaming wind. Chanting. A chorus of voices, steady and thrumming. Pain. Everything is hazy, and it’s equal odds on it being from the smoke or the potential head injury.

Bruce stumbles to his feet, body throbbing.

This was not how he’d planned this night.

Of course, he hadn’t planned for Gotham to suddenly be overrun with a new…gang? They claimed to be a government organization, but Bruce has his doubts. He hadn’t had a chance to go through the GIW’s information, but according to Barbara, their claims were sketchy at best.

The shouting about ghosts and waving around sci-fi weapons with no trigger discipline certainly didn’t help their claims.

Government organization or not, they had no right to raid homes, to drag people out onto the street, or overall threaten his city.

His ears ring, and the chanting rises in volume, impossibly. His chest reverbes with the sound. It’s steady enough to feel like a second heart. His blurry vision locks onto the center of the summoning circle. Because this night couldn’t get any worse, of course.

First the GIW had rocketed up his list of threats with one simple move.

They’d gone after Jason.

Jason, who even now was laid out in the middle of the summoning circle, eyes bright, bright, bright green through the haze.

First they’d taken his son.

Then they’d used him as a sacrifice.

Bruce bared his teeth, locking eyes with the closest GIW agent. The man held up his weapon, a glowing baton. His form is weak.

The baton gord flying, Bruce’s armored elbow slamming the man to the ground. The agent curls up, groaning. Nightwing’s escrima sing electric in the background, followed by the whip of Tim’s bow staff. Damian’s sword glints through the haze, and purple flashes through the crowd of white, white, white.

He can’t see Cass, but he doesn’t expect too.

The ground rocks under his feet, and it takes several precious seconds to regain his balance. There seems to be an almost endless flood of agents, with more and more meeting his fists as he tries to make it through the gauntlet.

Suddenly, the air shifts, the scream of it heading for the circle instead of out.

The circle glows toxic green, and Jason’s at the center, frozen in the light.

“No!” Bruce shouts, the sound ripping from his soul.

It’s echoed by Dick, who stands just outside the circle’s boundaries. His hands are pressed against the light, his blue eyes a shock against the green.

It’s a confusion of people - GIW white and the summoner’s black. The GIW is here to end whatever it is they need Jason to summon to them. The summoners themselves seem to have broken away from the “agency” and want power from the being they’re calling. It’s a fight on multiple fronts, with the GIW fighting the summoners and Bruce and his family fighting them all.

The temperature drops.

“HOOD!” Dick screams, as Jason is swallowed by the green.

The chant is all he can hear, even as he shoves towards the circle, even as he slams against the same wall Dick’s against.

The world goes bright and he can’t keep his eyes on Jason. On his son.

When the light fades, Jason’s not alone.

A being sits six feet in the air, Jason collapsed over his lap, somehow hovering with the - what is he? He looks human, but there’s something wrong. Off. Bruce can’t quite pinpoint his age. A crown glows on his head, an ever shifting cape spills down his back, dragging close to the floor. His eyes are green as Lazarus, and just as deep. Jason is breathing, Bruce notes. The being’s hands curl in Jason’s hair, playing with it idly.

The air is *rigid, and everyone’s stopped fighting. No one can draw their eyes away from the being.

“You dare to summon me with one of my own?” The being speaks, and it’s like crackling glaciers. Someone whimpers.

“We - wanted to give you a gift,” One of the men in black says, his voice chattering.

It’s like breathing in ice.

“A gift?” The being says and the sound is fury, banked in a waiting avalanche. “What kind of gift is this? A denizen of my Realms, trapped and tortured? Used to summon his king, against his will? This is no gift.”

“B-but we didn’t know,” another speaks, and then obviously realizes he shouldn’t have.

“Ignorance will not save you,” the being says, and it - he’s? - still holding Jason like he’s something precious. “And I am not the only one you have infuriated.

“I am not the only one you have awoken.”

To a man, the GIW agents cry out in panic. Bruce turns, looking for the threat but - the agents are buried to various depths in the cracked concrete floor. The ground is decidedly solid beneath Bruce’s feet but the agents would obviously not agree. They flounder, like the concrete is quicksand. The summoners are next, but it’s ice that gets them, crawling up their bodies until they’re locked into place.

“My lord!” One cries and promptly finds himself gagged.

Bruce can’t stay silent any longer. “Hood was used against his will to summon you,” he starts. The being’s eyes meet Bruce’s. “He didn’t want this. Is he alright?”

“Your son is fine,” the voice is rough, but feminine, and obviously not from the being. It’s around him, dancing through the steel beams and pushing through concrete. “You are mine, my knight. You and yours are mine. The little king will not harm him, nor you.” A figure forms off to his right.

“Holy shit,” Dick whispers. Bruce has to agree.

She’s made of concrete, of broken brick and dust, of bone and police tape, of twisted metal and more.

“Gotham,” Bruce breathes, and he doesn’t know how he knows but he does.

“Hello, my knight,” she says, her form shifting. She turns slightly, and there’s something sharp in her movement. “Hello, little king.”

“Lady Gotham,” The being - the king? - returns. “You look well,”

Lady Gotham laughs, a ringing sound - it’s bells and gravel, fresh air on a summer day and rising wind. “How you flatter me, little king. Do you fear me?”

The being grins, mischief dancing around him, white hair floating high. “I respect you. It’s good to see you awake, Milady.”

“What is happening?” Tim asks no one in particular. Dick shrugs and Steph just leans harder on Tim. Cass holds Damian’s shoulder firmly, watching carefully.

Bruce wishes he had an answer.

“It is good to be awake,” Lady Gotham says, and she shifts closer to the circle, fingers skimming against the barrier of light. “How long do you intend to keep my reaper from me?”

Reaper. Bruce thinks, and it’s a gut punch.

It makes sense, to describe Jason. Jason can go where Bruce cannot, do what Bruce cannot.

The king laughs lightly. “The summoning harmed him, Milady. I’m just keeping him safe. I’m not here to undermine you,” the king’s eyes glow. “But remember who is king.”

Lady Gotham smiles. “I’m aware of hierarchy little king.”

“My son,” Bruce says, because there’s no point in pretending Jason is anything less. He’s talking to - the embodiment of gotham and a king of - something. “He’ll be okay?”

Lady Gotham sighs. “He will be fine, my knight. The little king cares for his own.”

“What - what are you the king of?” Tim asks, bold.

The being smiles.

“I am Phantom,” he says. “I am the Ghost King.”

Jason stirs in his lap, and the implications crash over Bruce. Maybe Reaper has more meaning than he’d thought.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #danny phantom #dc #dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc prompt #thank you for this prompt!!#i had a lot of fun responding to it!#yall have no idea how much research went into the making of this #imma be put on a list for the things i googled here #i found a witch website in the process!!#all but yorick are actual real candles that can be bought #judas nooo #vine references #okay but im also super proud of dannys insult to the cultists #there was a translator for his ghost speak but it sucked so everything sounds super formal #midnight memories

4K notes · View notes