#unholy fall maiden

[tricoloredillusion]

@unholy-fall-maiden continued from here!

Perhaps the Fall Maiden was getting more reckless with time, but she wasn't exactly the only one. Impatience and desperation often pushed people in directions before they could think things through better, and even if rather hypocritical, the mute was frowning softly despite the worry in her eyes; hands gently working to disinfect and bandage Cinder's wounds.

All while wearing her gloves still.

If the other recovered her Aura, it should be enough to start helping with the healing, but in the meantime...

Brown and pink stared at the other with disapproval even if she was half-teasing, and once she made sure the bandages were tied, she leaned back slightly and scanned Cinder over, in case there was anything else she needed to patch up.

[piratefishmama]

Fake It 'till You Make It | Part 1

The phone was ringing. It was eight in the morning, on a Sunday, and the phone was ringing. Eddie rolled over, pushing his face into his pillow in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, he’d suffocate in the sweet embrace of his misshapen, well-loved pillow before whoever dared to call at such an ungodly hour, decided to give up.

No dice. However his uncle did seem to be answering it for him, bless that man, bless each and every one of his gray hairs.

“Eddie, up an at em, son! S’fer you!” Damn him. Damn him and all his gray hairs.

“Nggghhhh!!!!” Was his very coherent response

“It’s one of those kids’a yours!” Kids? He had kids? Oh shit he had kids, right. kids who should know better than to call at EIGHT. AM. AM. THE MORNING.

ON A SUNDAY.

Just inconsiderate really. He’d spent the majority of the previous night convincing the Gillespie’s that maybe their daughter didn’t actually need to get onto the endless carousel that was the dating scene.

Convincing them that maybe the dating pool was so batshit insane that it was for the best that she remain perfectly single for a little while longer. That maybe being single wasn’t nearly as bad as being with whatever the fuck Eddie Munson was.

Eddie had spent the entire evening referring to her father by his first name as it visibly pissed him off, called his daughter ‘sweet cheeks’ and slapped her ass as she left the room one too many times (any time more than zero times was too many times), offered her mother a joint to chill the fuck out, talked about his band incessantly, he’d gone all out on the ‘disrespectful sack of shit’ angle until he’d been forbidden to date their daughter.

Then listened with glee outside the door while they declared she was forbidden from dating for as long as it took to shake her from her ‘bad boy’ phase. A job well done, she’d slipped him the fifty bucks she owed for the night through the back window, and he was on his way. Fifty bucks better off!

Megan wasn’t having a bad boy phase. Megan was a lesbian waiting for the perfect opportunity to get the fuck out of Hawkins. She just… couldn’t handle her parents constantly asking about her dating life. Or her lack of a dating life.

She was beautiful, the picture of stereotypical femininity, they had no idea why their daughter wasn’t snagging one of the rich Loch Nora guys like a Harrington, or a Johnson, or even one of the B grade rich guys like Hagan, or Peters.

She was too busy with a Holloway.

Then the following hours before he’d eventually passed out, he’d been slowly working through memorizing the chorus tabs of an Iron Maiden song he’d been meaning to learn for one of the covers used to bulk up Corroded Coffin’s sets. Jeff already had his parts down, Eddie had been lagging.

“M’not here!”

“Says it’s important!”

“Tell em I’m dead!”

There was a pause, and then his bedroom door was opening, and a cushion was thrown at his head, forcing him upright to shout his indignation to the world while his uncle stood there stern and unimpressed “Boy get your backside up an talk to y’damn friends.”

“Nghhh, fine.” He was up anyway. The phone ringing had woken him up. It’d take a miracle to fall back into a full snooze now. He shoved his blankets aside, trudged past his uncle, and snagged the phone from where Wayne had left it on the little table by the window. “Whomever this may be, I’m nuking your stats next session for the unholy crime of waking me up before noon.”

“But I’m calling about a job”

“Ahh, Henderson. Might as well just tear up the sheet for that little gnome now, kid.”

“He’s a dwarf and— ngh whatever, I needed to roll a new character anyway. Listen! I have a job for you, if you want it, one of your weird little rent a guy gigs” not something he was proud to have let slip around the kids. It could get weird if they made assumptions!

But if it got him an extra buck or two without having to do much other than be an over the top version of himself, then what was the harm? It wasn’t like he was selling his body or anything, just his funhouse personality.

“…Go on.”

“Okay so… don’t freak out, but… it’s a guy. He’s cool though!! Like, really cool, super chill, no danger to you what so ever.” That was fine, his ‘dates’ were usually fake but that didn’t erase the very real danger of being perceived by two of an older less cool generation that talked. “He knows it’s all fake so it’s just acting—"

“And this guy’s parents? How cool are they?” It wasn’t just faking a date, it was faking it in front of parents. Parents who usually weren’t about to approve of him when it was a heterosexual relationship. A Homosexual one? He really didn’t want to have to go through the real risks of hate crimes with a teenager, but Dustin clearly wasn’t getting the danger aspect there.

“I don’t know, I don’t really know them, but he says he can explain everything if you give him a chance, he’s free today, he even said he’d buy you breakfast if you meet him early!”

“…And he knows I’m a him, not a her, right?”

“Yeah, I said he was cool! The gay thing isn’t a big deal to him.”

“I’m not—” it was instinctual, Dustin didn’t know what he was, maybe he’d heard rumours, but he didn’t outright know that his dungeon master was a queer. Probably for the best, as lovely as Claudia Henderson was, she was very susceptible to accepting the crowdsourced opinion on things. She didn’t have her sons need to question everything.

She’d probably pull him from every Hellfire meet ever if Dustin let it slip that the guy in charge was queer.

“I know you’re not, but it’s fake right? it’s not like you guys have to do anything other than claim to be dating, right?” True… he never actually did anything with his ‘dates’. Usually just telling the parents they were dating was enough of a shock to the system to hide the lack of proof. The most he’d ever done was slap an ass here and there, maybe wrap an arm around a waist or two.

That was enough for the ‘traditional’ close minded Parents of Hawkins.

“…Fine, I’ll hear the guy out, but I’m only hearing him out alright! I’ll decide on whether or not I wanna take this job only after he explains, got it?”

“Got it!!”

“Alright, tell him to meet me at Benny’s in twenty.” Another quick confirmation and Eddie was hanging up the phone. so much for going back to sleep but at least he’d get a lovely breakfast out of it.

Part 3 

[thebelugawhalefriend]

Many Loving Kisses - Yan!Royal Harem x Reader

PART TWO

CW: Yandere themes, Fem reader, Homophobia, Polyamory, FxF and MxF, Slight mentions of religion

Note: This is based on a dream I had a while back that actually opened up the idea of polyamory being healthy to me. While the dream involved an emperor from Japan and his harem, I'm very worried about writing for a culture I'm not completely learned up on. So! I've written it to fit a Medieval setting ^^

"The King has requested your daughter's hand in marriage." A messenger read from his scroll upon a white stallion, your parents looking on in shock. "His Majesty? But... Why our daughter?" Your mother starts, but her partner puts her hand on your mother's shoulder. "Do you dare ask why our gracious King would bestow upon you a dowry for your daughter? After he pardoned the unholy sanctity of your union?" It's then your other mother, "Auntie", steps in with venom in her tone. "Now you listen here, you brute... My wife didn't dare insult the king! She simply asked why he would want to take our only child away from us. Disgracing our union is unnecessary!"

To this, the messenger seethes. Withdrawing from his horse, the towering brute of a man steps closer to your mothers. "He did request that anyone unwilling to hand over the bride to be shall be taken to be executed. Would you prefer I end your lives? I'll be more than happy to-"

"Stop!" You immediately waved your arms up, trying to get in the middle of the dispute, "I'll go- please! Just don't hurt my mom and auntie...!" It was now their turn to look upon you with shock. "Baby..." Your mother lifts her hands to hold your face. "You don't have to do this. We'll do anything to keep you safe-" "Mama, it's not worth sacrificing your lives over something like a marriage. I love you both too much to see someone take your lives..."

Sundown's pink hues darken the skies as you wave your final goodbyes to your moms. To ensure you wouldn't change your mind, some of the men who had tagged along with the messenger tied you tight and carried you upon horseback. While your parents were paid a great sum for your hand, you couldn't help but worry about what the king's wife would think. How would this work? Would she be okay with the king having you as a second wife? Of course, his first wife will still be Queen... But what will you be?

Nightfall approaches as soon as the men who carried you in tow arrive at the gates. The king, in all his glory, looks upon the arriving carrivan with great disdain. The messenger leads on with pride in his chest and eyes. "My King, we've brought your bride to be as you requested!" "And you tied her like an animal to a slaughter?!" The king's sharp tone immediately deflated the messenger's ego. "I- uhm- It wasn't I who requested she be bound like that! Men, what have you done to our lady? At least treat the maiden with class!" The crew hastily undoes your ties as the messenger puffs out his chest yet again. Though, the king seems unimpressed.

"I've had quite enough trouble with the likes of you, Stephen. You treat your job as if I bestowed upon you a knight's status... One more misuse of your power and I'll have you imprisoned for the rest of your days." His golden eyes now fall upon you, gaze softening upon seeing your figure. "As for her, let her come and follow me. She's to be acquainted with my wife before any plans are set in motion."

Now, it's hard to not fall for a king so handsome. Stunning muscular features, a chiseled face as if a sculptor carved him from marble, and long curls of red hair pulled onto a loose ponytail. Freckles mark his face and skin like stars and constellations, with multitudes of scars connecting them. You start to wonder if God personally painted him to look like a galaxy... "I do apologize for how my men have treated you. It's difficult to find men as honorable as my own knights, dearest (Y/N)."

"You... Know my name, Your Highness...?"

"Why wouldn't I? You've been all my wife has been talking about for the past few weeks! It took me the longest time to come around to the idea but... One look of who she spoke of and I couldn't agree faster."

"King Fl-"

"Please, you may call me Rose." His smile is so warm, it brought your face to a rosy red. The tenderness of his words... That spark in his eye... It's hard to believe that this would be yours to even have, not to mention have his wife willing to share!

Once you both happen upon an ornate willow door, Rose gives it a gentle knock. "Darling?" A soft voice calls from inside the room. "Is that you?" "Yes, my dearest wife! I have brought someone you'd most adore to meet..." "Oh! But Rose, I'm just about indecent! Visitors can't gaze upon me right now..." The red haired man rolls his eyes with a bright smile, "Oh, alright, I suppose (Y/N) can wait a few moments longer."

With that, the door creeps open. "Please, let her come in!" You swallow a large lump in your throat, trotting in carefully. The inside of the room is spacious and rather decorated- even for a queen. Paintings of fables and animals decorate the walls, each framed with delicately carved wood. Walls themselves were murals of flowers and leaves, furniture threatening to overflow with delicate knick knacks and jewelry. What catches your eyes is the large pink bed with sheer canopies of white hanging over. On the sheets sit a tall and curvy woman. Eyes a striking purple and hair as black as a raven's plumage. What stands out most about her are her larger than life scars along her collarbone. While Rose's own were small, hers looked like she had fought a wild beast... The only thing that covers her is a purple nightgown, only going so far as to cover most of her thighs.

"You must be (Y/N)." She stands from the bed, brushing off her legs and looking at you with a bright smile. The mere sight of her vulnerability brings a deep blush back to your cheeks. "M-My Lady... I'm honored to... Uhm... Meet you!" You try to curtsey, but the queen merely laughs at your attempt and approaches your feeble form. "Please, there is no need for formality, little one! From now on, you can call me Azalea. But, any amount of nicknames will do." With that, she reaches her hands to your face and cups them along your jawline. "Look at you... You're so beautiful... So joyous and kind... I knew from the moment I saw you, I would love to have you marry my husband and I!"

It wasn't too long ago you met the queen. Only about a month, if you had to make a guess. She had been making her rounds along town in disguise despite her husband's protests. That's when she happened upon your family's stall. Adorned with colors and beads, it immediately was obvious that you were all selling jewelry. "Greetings!" You beamed from the stall, the queen's attention caught on you. "Would you... Actually, hold on a moment." The curious monarch watched on as you picked through one of the racks of necklaces. From them, you picked a particular piece- An orange and red beaded necklace with a ruby as the showpiece. "You look like someone who could use a little more red-"

"Oh no, I can't- I'm sorry, I don't have any..." While the Queen fretted this potential trick, you put your hands onto her own. "I didn't say you had to pay for the piece. I... Actually made that one myself. I would be honored to have someone as beautiful as you wear it." She was quick to catch onto your "flirting", to which she laughed and looked into you. "If I didn't have a husband, I would snatch you right up! If only men were so flattering as you are." You gave her a little look of confusion, "I didn't mean to try and take you as my own- Oh, but I would if you wanted me to-! Just uh! Uhm..." That assumption brought a great fluster to your face. "I genuinely mean it, miss. I have a great feeling about you! I don't often get them but... Mom says when you get that feeling, you just have to... Put it into action. Does that make sense?" The tall woman laughed again, "Absolutely not, but I appreciate the gift you've given me. Perhaps fortune will be as giving as you are..."

At the time, you didn't even realize just what her status was. It wasn't until this very moment of her hold on your face that you finally could recognize her.

"You were that lady I met last month, weren't you?" Azalea beams with amusement, her familiar laugh ringing in your ears, "It took you long enough to figure that out! Ah, but don't you worry about it, just proves my disguise is effective." As she keeps you in conversation, her body urges you to join her on the bed. By that, it's merely a hand pulling you to the mattress and a gentle push urging you to sit. With you next to Azalea, Rose peeks right in with curiosity.

"How are my wonderful girls?" He steps right in, Azalea sticking her tongue out and pulling you in for a protective hug. "This one shall be my own wife! You can't have her, Rose!" Her tone is playful, but for a moment, you could have sworn you saw that primal desire of possessiveness. "Oh, you wound me, darling! I paid her dowry, only for her to be snatched away?" He comes in closer, leaning into his wife with that exact same look. "I don't think so... Come here!"

The redhead pulls you and Azalea in for a tight embrace. Between his muscular chest and Azalea's soft breasts, you're sure you will suffocate under this pile of affection. Though, it isn't long until he pulls away to let you breathe. "Goodness, my apologies (Y/N)! I should be more careful with my two favorite flowers..."

Their gentleness and affection all reminds you of your moms. How they would shower you with affection and each other with love. It brings a certain ache to your heart, but... You'll see them again, right?

"King- Sorry, Rose?" "Yes, my flower?" "What will become of my moms?" Your freckled lover pauses for a moment, "Your mothers? What of them? They've been compensated for your dowry." "When will I see them again?" This time, Azalea comes in to answer. Her limbs wrap around you and pull you into her lap by the waist. "Oh, my dear, we can't have you wandering about in public! You'll be a spectacle out there! Besides, you'll already have a lady who will care for you every day..."

"But... What of my friends?"

"What of them? They'll get to watch you marry us! Besides, you'll have a man who will be your company from dawn until dusk." While Azalea holds you, Rose brings a hand to your chin and strokes it lovingly. That facade of care was quickly starting to feel like a trap you've fallen into.

"That's... Lovely and all! I really do appreciate that I'll be spending my days with you both. I just worry that... Well, you both have many duties as king and queen. Surely I could be allowed outside...?" Both of the lovers freeze. It's as if you admitted to murder! The tension of the room grows thick like butter, with Rose's gaze turning from soft to absolutely enraged. Yet, his tone is still calmed. Too calm.

"My darling little flower..." His grip on your face tightens, "The outside is far too dangerous for you to venture into. You're to stay here with us and be our company. Do you understand me?" Your eyes widen and you nod feverishly, Rose letting out a sigh and pulling back. Azalea turns you slightly so you could look into her honeyed look using those familiar amethyst eyes. "Don't let it scare you so easily, loveliest... We love you! We won't hurt you if we don't have to. We'll keep you safe here... No matter how hard it'll be!"

[phoenixkaptain]

Thinkin about Su Xiyan, Tianlang-jun, and Luo Binghe again…

Su Xiyan who was forced into doing things and who desperately didn’t want to betray Tianlang-jun and who drank poison so she could see him again and warn him only to find out that she was far too late. And she gave birth to a little baby boy and instead of tossing him overboard into the water or letting him freeze, she wrapped him in her own robes to send him down the river. She must’ve been hoping he’d live, right? She must’ve been desperately longing for her child to live. She must’ve been so tired. She looked back on those times when she and Tianlang-jun would tease and flirt with each other and despite everything, she must’ve felt so terribly, terribly alone.

Tianlang-jun, who begins as a legitimately almost pure-hearted maiden. He likes to bounce around the human realm and play their songs and read their stories and spend way too much money until he’s broke. And he falls so hard for Su Xiyan. He falls so hard for her, to the point that he brings her up constantly and he asks Zhuzhi-Lang whether or not he’s handsome and he trusts her and trusts her and trusts her… only for everything to be torn apart. Only to be buried under a mountain and stuck thinking that Su Xiyan is the one who caused all of it. Barely even able to mourn for everything he’s lost.

It isn’t like the world is kind to them after everything. Tianlang-jun is painted as a monster who was on the verge of storming the human realm. Su Xiyan is badmouthed the moment people find out that she was pregnant with Tianlang-jun’s child. No matter what she does, she can’t win. If she betrayed her sect for Tianlang-jun, then she was a traitor who was seduced by a demon. If she betrayed Tianlang-jun for her sect, then she was a horrible mother and terrible woman. If she tried to kill her unborn child, she’s unfit to be called a woman. If she tried to save him, she brought an unholy abomination into the world. She just can’t win.

And of course Luo Binghe’s supposed to be tragic. Of course his story is supposed to be sad. But he’s so desperate for any hint of affection and he’s told to his face that he’s an unholy abomination and his father doesn’t seem to care about him and his mother tried to abort him and it’s so easy to feel all alone. It’s so easy for him to feel like he doesn’t fit anywhere, because he’s both human and demon, which means he’s neither human nor demon.

The part that always makes me tear up is when Luo Binghe tries to merge the two realms together. He’s so desperate. He’s so broken. He doesn’t know what to do and he only knows that he doesn’t want to be left behind. He says that nobody has ever chosen him. He says that it would be fine even if Shen Qingqiu hated him, as long as he didn’t toss him aside.

And it’s awful! This family is awful! It’s so sad! It’s too sad! Su Xiyan chose Luo Binghe before anyone else did. Su Xiyan chose to save him, chose to try and keep him warm and dry. Even at the cost of her own life, she chose him! And she chose him because she loved Tianlang-jun! She basically poisoned herself trying to keep the only thing she had left of Tianlang-jun alive! Tianlang-jun says that Luo Binghe looks like her. Tianlang-jun can’t even be angry or sad when he mentions her, he just goes blank, until he finds out that she really wanted to save him and he can’t help but love her all over again! Tianlang-jun looks at Luo Binghe and Luo Binghe is proof that Su Xiyan loved him!

Luo Binghe realizes that he hurt Shen Qingqiu and he’s more than horrified. All he’s ever wanted to do is be strong enough that Shen Qingqiu doesn’t have to get hurt saving him anymore, but all he ever seem to accomplishe is hurting Shen Qingqiu himself. He tries to learn demonic cultivation to get stronger and he gets pushed into the Endless Abyss. He tries to learn spiritual cultivation and Shen Qingqiu dies in his arms. He tries to keep Shen Qingqiu’s body in perfect condition so that he can bring hin back to life, only for the body to be stolen out from under him twice. He asks, again and again, for Shen Qingqiu to choose him, and he never gets chosen.

But, you can’t actually blame Shen Qingqiu. Because all of those scenes of him not choosing Luo Binghe ARE him choosing Luo Binghe! He chooses Binghe and Binghe’s safety everytime, he just never realizes that he himself is necessary for Binghe to be safe. And why would he assume that? He hurt Binghe and he feels like he can’t be forgiven for it, to the point that all of his suffering is him punishing himself.

Luo Binghe in the wedding extra asks Shen Qingqiu to marry him and he’s so nervous beforehand that he literally trips. He stutters. And even after he asks, he tells Shen Qingqiu not to answer, because he can’t listen to the answer, he can’t listen to Shen Qingqiu turn him aside again and he contents himself with thinking that even if they aren’t married, Shen Qingqiu has indulgently allowed him to follow wherever he goes, and that’s enough.

So when Shen Qingqiu does say yes, it’s emotional. He’s shocked. And even as he pulls out all the stops for the “wedding,” I don’t think Luo Binghe is actually convinced that Shen Qingqiu meant it until the next day, when Shen Qingqiu calls him “Husband” without even being asked. I think that’s the moment it hit him. Shen Qingqiu chose him.

We start the novels by hearing a basic outline of PIDW, which starts with Su Xiyan choosing Luo Binghe. We end the novels with Shen Qingqiu choosing Luo Binghe. Luo Binghe finally, finally understands what it feels like to be loved.

Meng Mo and the Huan Hua Palace Master want Luo Binghe as their student because he’s powerful and capable and, in the Palace Master’s case, he reminds him of Su Xiyan. His wives, it’s somewhat strongly implied, mostly wanted him for sex and what he could do for them. Nobody ever really befriends Luo Binghe at any point. He’s always standing apart from others. He’s never part of the Huan Hua disciples and he stands out amongst the Cang Qiong sect disciples and he stands out among demons and he stands out among humans and

And he finally stands with Shen Qingqiu. He’s finally not alone. He’s finally someone’s first choice. He finally feels like someone’s first choice.

[shiny-jr]

Just wanted to say that the mythical creatures with twst sound so cool and the thought of swan maiden Silver made my heart skip a beat. He’d be so pretty~

– Warning: Slightly yandere? Not really though. Gender-neutral reader.

– Character: Silver.

– Note: Time to put Tchaikovsky's "Swan Lake" on full blast.

A long time ago, there was a young prince of a kingdom now long gone. From the day he was born, the prince was betrothed to a princess born around the same time in another kingdom. Yet, the prince, Silver can't remember much. All that he can recall from his youth as a child, comes in the form of confusing memories in dreams he can't distinguish from fiction or reality. No longer could he remember the face of his mother or father, or even the voice of the one that bestowed this cursed on him. For so long all he knew was the water and the moonlight.

When he was still a child, for some reason he never knew or no longer can remember, he was cursed to become a swan. For centuries he remained on his own, unable to communicate with those he once knew and never able to tell anyone about the curse. For several years, at least a century, he remained an awkward little duckling that slowly grew to become a graceful white swan.

What appeared like would become an eternity of being trapped in this small feathered body, was soon interrupted and shattered by a demonic being who approached the lake on a moonlit night. An energetic and strangely friendly ancient demonic entity, who the swan prince treated kindly and approached curiously as he floated gracefully on the water's surface, because he held no prejudice against unholy creatures of the night unlike how most feared them. The demonic being was charmed by the small swan, and instantly recognized that there was a curse at play. Silver soon learned that his name was Lilia, and Lilia promised to help break the swan's curse with the assistance of an entity even stronger than himself.

Lilia would keep his promise, and Silver would be able to turn back into a human again, but not without the curse leaving its mark in the form of white wings and the permanent ability to transform back to his feathered form whenever he pleased.

He had no idea how long it had been or where else to go once he became human once more, so the demonic being named Lilia happily took him under his wing, so to speak, and claimed him as his own son.

There was something Silver never revealed to anyone, and that was just how lonely it had been as a swan. Then when his memories began to fade, he was without even memories to comfort him. The days and nights went by one by one, he wasn't able to keep track. He had no idea exactly how long he was stuck like that. Perhaps it's one of the reasons why Silver isn't exactly too fond of being alone, because it brings back memories of the one thing he can remember for certain: the loneliness.

So when he decided to visit the lake he once resided in for so long only to see you, a human peacefully lounging just on the grassy banks under the shade of a tree, he was intrigued. You were shocked to see a man with silver hair, otherworldly eyes softly gazing at down at you, wearing pristine white robes, and with white wings on his back. For a moment you swore it must've been an angel, this must've been a dream–– 

Silver knew it was no dream as he happily and calmly approached you. After only an hour of getting to know each other and chat, Silver felt so at peace. It felt like he could just fall asleep under the shade, the wind creating a pleasant breeze as the sun continued to shine. He truly enjoyed your company. This was perfection–– until you announced you had to go and he jolted out of his peaceful state. As you reached for your book and began to stand, he reached out to gently grab onto your wrist as he pleaded softly, "Wait... don't go, please..."

[nihildenial]

Maiden Voyage by nihil-denial

Papa Emeritus III x Omega/Mist/Crust/Alpha/Aero

Rated T

Fluff, brotherly love, No smut, implied/referenced relationships, house cleaning

Word count: 3,964

There weren’t many rules in the Church of Unholy Satan’s Los Angeles Ministry. There were no rules on dress outside of the once-a-week Black Mass, no limits on who could attend, and freedom from any gender or sexual norms.

Initiates and Siblings flowed in and out of the large cathedral-centered campus daily. Mingled between the devil worshippers were members of the Church’s Clergy that mostly wore their given vestments; more so to express the years of servitude and fashion sense rather than conforming to a papacy expectation.

Life under Anti-Pope Papa Emeritus II was considered paradise for those who lived within the grounds of the Ministry. He was the second eldest son of Papa Emeritus Nihil, and succeeded his brother, Papa Emeritus I, after a twenty-year reign.

Papa II had headed the L.A. Ministry for five years already and has already done one successful North American gospel entertainment tour. The Emeritus bloodline was famously talented in the fine arts, with all sons especially gifted with sinfully dulcet voices.

But for however much Papa II’s congregation was stable and happy, the Clergy was always looking to the future of the Ministry. As Head of Clergy, Sister Imperator kept track of the Emeritus bloodline through Papa Nihil’s many escapades (finally getting him to stop after five sons, the last two being twins she bore herself).

The third son was destined to become Papa Emeritus III in his father’s lineage. Papa Nihil, in his early rockstar lifestyle, decided rather than remember the names the various mothers gave their sons, he would name them by their prophesized reign.

The third son went by ‘Terzo,’ meaning ‘third’ in Nihil’s native language of Italian.

Terzo was considered to be the most handsome Emeritus son; his mother’s Sicilian heritage gifted him with olive skin, thick, raven-black hair, and a devilishly charming smile. He was constantly charming initiates and siblings of all genders into his bed (or the hallway…or under the stairs…or out in the forest).

Papa II was born four years before Terzo. Many Siblings of Sin within the Ministry couldn’t believe this, as the papal vestments made Papa II seem so much older than Terzo.

Terzo used this discrepancy to schmooze his way through the educational track of the Ministry, however his parallel lifestyle to his father’s early years eventually caught up with him.

“You fall asleep during Black Mass, refuse to help with unholy communion, and have had three pregnancy scares in the past few months. This may be the Church of Satan, but even the Devil has to be responsible sometimes,” Papa Emeritus II, ‘Secondo,’ scolded his younger brother during a clergy meeting. “You are not receiving the title of Head Cardinal.”

“I am an Emeritus son! I deserve that title! If I don’t have it, then I’ll be worth nothing!” Terzo complained. “I volunteered for the Lupercalia feast this year, and I am trying to further the Emeritus legacy by bringing more children into the world.” He was prone to whining when he didn’t get his way, but even here he could somewhat see the error of his ways. Perhaps he has been a bit too careless with the Sisters lately.

Secondo’s skull paint does not betray the pain he feels for not giving his brother the title. “You need to find something other than power and wealth to make you happy. Being Head Cardinal is a large task and I don’t feel you’re committed to the cause of doing this to help others.”

Sister Imperator’s frown in visible, “We have free condoms for a reason, Terzo. I will put you on the consideration list of alternates, but you will stay an acolyte Cardinal. You are dismissed.”

Terzo kept his shoulders level as he strides out of the cathedral’s meeting room. Only once he was behind the closed doors of his bedroom does he let his posture slouch. His companion cat twines his fluffy black form around the hem of Terzo’s black cassock.

“Buon pomeriggio, Bernini,” He sweeps the cat into his arms like a baby. “I am not returning a happy man, however.”

Bernini’s golden eyes close in happiness as he pets him, uncaring of his owner’s plight.

“I need to show them that I am indeed ready to become Head Cardinal. If I wait on the alternate list, it could be literal years before Sister Imperator decides to review me! Maybe I’ve been a bit crazy, but I am simply indulging in the pleasures of the Earth. I need a way to display that I’m capable of helping others,” He sighs heavily.

The Maine Coon only continues his content purring.

Terzo’s stomach grumbles and rouses the cat, who jumps from his arms at being disturbed. “I guess I should go get dinner. I’ll bring it back here, perhaps.” He walks from his bedroom in the papal building of the sprawling campus to the dining hall connected to the main cathedral.

“Good evening, Terzo! How did the meeting go?” Sister Rebecca greets as he steps up to receive a hearty serving of the night’s large pot of authentic spaghetti.

“Buon pomeriggio, Sister. It was not, ah, successful,” He tries to give her a smile, but it falls flat.

The older woman spoons an extra meatball onto his plate. “I know it’s disappointing, but I agree with them. You’ll get there. You show so much promise as a Head Cardinal, though you do need to tamp down that wild side or else you’ll end up like your father.”

Terzo smirks a bit at that. He’s managed to stay off drugs (he doesn’t count cigarettes as drugs), and he doesn’t ever plan on getting on them. He’s not stupid. “I wish that there was a way to prove that I’m worthy. How do I know this won’t affect me becoming Papa?”

“Why are you worrying about becoming Papa? You have so much freedom!”

“Thanks for the great dinner, Sister,” Terzo says politely and takes his plate. After chatting briefly with a Brother of Blasphemy, the acolyte Cardinal begins the trek back to his room.

He nods in greeting to the Siblings and clergy members he passes, eventually letting himself daydream about the ways he could improve his standing for the promotion. His feet take him through the entrance of the papal suite building on instinct.

Terzo goes to turn the last corner before his room when he slams into a solid body.

His dinner smashes back into the rich black of his fascia belt and the plate falls to shatter on the stone floor between Terzo and the newcomer.

Terzo yelps, “What the fuck?! Watch where you’re going, you brick wall—” He was fully expecting it to be his father, Papa Nihil, or his brother, Papa Emeritus I. His green and white eyes snap to the silver elemental symbols embroidered on the newcomer’s breast.

It’s a Nameless Ghoul.

And judging by the white highlight of the Quintessence symbol, he’s run into Omega.

To audience members outside of the Ministry campus, the Nameless Ghouls were simply masked musicians that performed the dark gospels alongside the touring Papa. To those within the Ministry, the truth about the Nameless Ghouls was known; they were bound demonic spirits, gifted with infernal talent and powers that helped gain followers for their master.

They weren’t inherently evil, but after a Sibling became angry and struck down the first ever summoned Water Ghoul; Sister Imperator and Papa Emeritus I created a rule that no one outside of the High Clergy was allowed to interact with a Nameless Ghoul. Siblings and lower ranked Cardinals were allowed to talk to them in emergencies, but most interactions ended after a friendly wave or nod of greeting in the hallways during Black Mass.

The rule meant that the Nameless part of the Ghoul’s identities had to end within the Ministry campus in case something like that ever happened again. Fire was Alpha, Air was Aero, Earth was Crust, Quintessence was Omega, and the second Water Ghoul was named Lake.

Since Terzo was an acolyte, he was not a part of the High Clergy and therefore not allowed to directly interact with the Ghouls.

Oh shit! Terzo screams in his head. “Mi dispiace,” He takes a step back but slips on the spilled spaghetti.

The demon best known for his part as rhythm guitarist quickly grabs onto the front of Terzo’s cassock to keep the human from hitting the ground. He holds until Terzo can regain his footing on stone that isn’t covered in pasta.

“Fuck, it got on yours too,” Terzo complains as he sees a matching splatter on the front of Omega’s short tunic.

“Don’t worry about it, we have plenty of uniforms,” The six foot-five Ghoul says, his voice a low rumble. “I can call housekeeping and bring a new plate for you.”

Terzo doesn’t trust himself not to say something stupid, so he nods. Omega was much nicer than Terzo thought he’d be. The outright care even when both of them were breaking room by just being in each others’ presence was refreshing. The Ghoul’s gleaming silver mask accentuates the indigo irises that meet his.

The toned arm muscles and wide chest would feel so good pressing Terzo against the wall.

“You’re Terzo, right? I’ll go take care of this,” Omega places a hand over where a human’s heart would be, bows, and steps down the hallway.

Terzo stares after him until his form vanishes around the corner. That Ghoul was so fucking hot. Every muscled DILF fantasy Terzo kept locked inside his brain explodes behind his eyelids. Sin incarnated, the ultimate lay.

Suddenly, he has an idea.

-

Sibling Ezra is knocking on Terzo’s door an hour later, a tray with an identical plate of spaghetti sitting on it. Next to the bundle of silverware is a folded letter with a purple wax seal. Ezra hands him the tray and takes the soiled cassock with a smile.

Bernini the Main Coon is very excited at the smell of food, and jumps up to the armchair across from the chaise.

“You just had your own dinner!” He complains as the feline keeps trying to snag noodles.

With the spaghetti eaten, Terzo looks to the letter on the tray. The wax seals bears the symbols of the five elements overlapping together, the official symbol for Ghoul affairs within the postal system of the Ministries. It takes some time to open the white envelope without damaging the wax, but he manages to pry it off mostly intact. Inside the envelope is a single slip of parchment marked with neat, black writing.

Cardinal Terzo,

I am sorry about our run-in yesterday. I hope replacing your dinner will assuage any ill feelings you have towards us Ghouls.

Omega, Quintessence Ghoul

The demon was worried about how Terzo would view the Ghouls? He’s the one that ran into Omega, not the other way around. Something aches in Terzo’s heart. It’s been nearly ten years since the death of Chain Ghoul at the hands of a Brother, and as far as Terzo had grown up with, none of the other Siblings ever had the same ill feelings towards the musicians even before that situation. Perhaps Omega is concerned about if Sister Imperator found out that the two of them had been communicating.

Terzo could use this to his advantage. If he were to go to the next monthly Clergy meeting with a Ghoul utterly devoted to him, his brother’s hand would be forced to give Terzo a position within the High Clergy. They can’t get rid of him because he’s an Emeritus.

But the image of those indigo eyes creased in betrayal as Omega inevitably finds out Terzo was just using him, stings more than the rejection.

The raven-haired man thinks to all of the rituals he’s seen his brothers perform. All of the Ghouls were polite, talented, and sinfully built like Greek statues. They were part of a pack that fought, fucked, and performed together. Maybe…becoming Head Cardinal wasn’t what Terzo wanted anymore. More paperwork? That didn’t sound like fun. Why did he want to be Head Cardinal anyway?

Once he reached leader status, he’d be shipped off to a Ministry branch to lead his own congregation. There’s no telling where he’d end up. Cardinal Rein was just shipped off to Forks, Washington. Sure, there’s a chance Terzo could end up in Las Vegas or New York, but those are fully staffed and never have a shortage of willing applicants.

If Terzo was going to find satisfaction in his place at the Ministry before he ascended to Papal status, the Ghouls were probably the best way for him to feel like he’s fulfilling something in his life.

-

Ghost practiced before dinner every third day, so Terzo had to wait two days before he could conveniently place himself nearby.

Secondo was dressed in one of his well-tailored suits, sunglasses on his nose as he came in from his drive coming back from the city. He immediately notices his nosey brother lingering near the door to the practice hall.

“Fratello! How is the weather outside?” Terzo says innocently.

“It’s warm…as usual for California,” The bald man says suspiciously. “Shoo, the Ghouls will be here soon for practice.”

Terzo lifts himself from where he was leaning against the wall. “Oh, I know. I was hoping I could watch.”

“…You’ve never shown interest before.”

The raven-haired Cardinal plucks an invisible piece of lint from the skirt of his black cassock. “If I’m being truthfully honest with you, brother, our meeting the other day has made an impact on me. I’ve been too reckless with my actions. If I’m ever going to become Papa or simply a Head Cardinal, I need to take my duties seriously. So, seeing how the band performs will help me gain insight into how to better serve our Lord.”

Secondo is glad he’s still wearing his Aviators, so Terzo doesn’t see the unbelieving look he has. Oh well. “A few Siblings sit in, so feel free to sit with them, but if I catch you talking during practice you can go sulk in your room.”

Terzo salutes him and opens the practice hall door with a dramatic flourish.

Sister Terra and Sibling Zelda are already sitting in the two rows of pews at the back of the room, both engaged in thick tomes and hand signing between each other. They look up when the door opens and wave at Papa II.

He takes off his sunglasses and waves back. “So, like I said, Terra and Zelda use signs to communicate during practice. It would be good if you could also learn that then help with the classes.”

Terzo resists the urge to roll his eyes. “I’ll get right on that.” He saunters over to the couple and sits in the pew in front of them.

Secondo tries to shake his suspicions as he sets up his microphone and check over the racks of guitars and the drum kit.

As usual, Mist is the first to arrive. “Good afternoon, Papa,” She greets.

Crust’s lanky form follows in after her, then Aero. Both male-oriented Ghouls give their own greetings before going to their instruments.

The sound of arguing typically precedes Alpha and Omega, and today is no different.

“Maybe if you actually cleaned your nest, they would want to sleep with you!” Omega says as he pushes the door open. “Scenting and not washing clothes for five weeks are two different things.”

Alpha’s slightly smaller size does nothing to intimidate him from firing back as he enters. “Maybe if you weren’t such a brute then I would have the energy after sex to clean! It’s difficult to do laundry when your back is blown out every night!”

Getting railed to the point of not being able to move? Sounds like an issue I want, Terzo thinks. He stands. “I can come help clean out the den! I want to take on some volunteering hours, and what better way than to help the musicians that devote themselves to Papa?”

Secondo’s lips thin into a frown. “Terzo! Quiet!” He hisses. He’ll allow Terzo to talk to the ghouls, only to not reprimand him when he appears to be genuine.

Terzo shrugs and steps over to the slight platform. “You haven’t started practicing yet. I can come help after dinner? Sibling Ezra has a sweet spot for me and I’ll get the materials back as soon as possible for you.”

Omega’s indigo eyes rove over him. He knows the Ghoul notices the extra tight cinching at his waist, and the way his make up is applied with perfect edges. “You would do that for us Ghouls?”

“It’s absolutely dreadful,” Mist warns. “There’s a reason none of us touch it.”

Terzo waves her concern away. “It’ll be no problem for me. What do you say, Papa? Can your helpful brother work with your Ghouls?”

Secondo glances to Omega, who shrugs helplessly. “Alright; even if this goes against the rule—it is pretty disgusting and needs to be cleaned.”

“Great! I’ll see all of you bright and early tomorrow morning then!” Terzo proclaims and strides to the door.

“Wait, weren’t you going to watch?” Secondo calls after him.

Terzo pauses halfway out the door. “I need to, uh, prepare some Ghoul-approved cleaning supplies.”

-

Omega sighed for the inevitable disgust that would overcome the human as he waited outside the stairs of the Ghoul wing. Living in the crypt had its advantages, such as being able to see and hear whoever comes down to fetch one of the demons. He perks up when he hears footsteps coming down the stone staircase. Terzo steps into view and Omega’s jaw drops.

The human is dressed in a Sisters’ habit; complete with a tight pencil skirt, low-cut blouse, and veil. He holds up a bucket full of different sprays and sponges. “I’m ready to help!”

Omega wants to sink to his knees in front of the human. It’s been so long since any of the Ghouls had a human in their nest or pack. “You’re certainly wearing that outfit,” he chokes out.

Terzo does a small spin, grinning at how easy it was to chat with him. “Hot Ministry maid Terzo, at your service. Now, let’s see what I can do for you wonderful demons.” He gestures for Omega to open the doors.

“I’m just giving you one last warning. It’s really, really bad in there. Alpha will try to coax you into not doing anything because he thinks it’s fine. If you leave now, I can spare you the horror.”

So Ghouls have a tendency for the dramatic. How bad can it be? The human rolls his mismatched eyes, conveniently lined with thick wings. “I forget, who’s the one trying to coax me out of this? Step aside, Guitar boy.”

Omega obliges and opens the heavy wooden door. The clashing scents of sweat, sex, and something sour fills the corridor.

“Oh my unholy Lucifer…” Terzo nearly drops the cleaning bucket as he steps inside.

This was not going to be a situation where Terzo could ‘heehee’, while bending over in his short skirt and pretend to feather-dust.

The crypt was originally the Cathedral’s, well, crypt. When Papa Nihil summoned the first Ghouls back in 1969 the niches full of urns and coffins were relocated to a cemetery on the edge of the Ministry grounds. A central circular den was dug through the marble floors and lined with cushions, similar to the era’s conversation pits featured in houses. The three embalming rooms at the back of the space were gutted and remade into bedrooms.

Today, what should be a comfortable and clean nest for the pack of demons is a tangled mess of sex-soiled blankets, rubbish, and what looks like…mold.

Terzo is honestly shocked. The Ghouls always seemed so put together!

Mist, Crust, Alpha, and Aero stand on the other side of the den with guilty expressions.

“Yeah…” Alpha rubs the back of his neck.

“How…How did it get like this?” Terzo asks.

The Air Ghoul kicks a crushed soda can from the edge of the den. “It’s kind of just got away from us. Usually we have our heat and ruts at the same time, but this winter we got them consecutively for nearly three months straight.”

Terzo sets down his bucket and shucks off the veil from his head. He does his best to fold it and put it in with the supplies so it doesn’t touch the sticky floor. “We may need to throw away a lot of this.”

Alpha gasps, “No!”

“Alpha, there’s mold on these. I honestly should be wearing a mask,” Terzo sighs.

“I’m not getting rid of these. We can wash them!”

Crust lays a comforting hand on his pack mate’s shoulder. “Imagine how nice your rut will be with nice, soft cushions. We won’t have to worry about getting the cleaning Sibling sick or deal with the awful textures.”

“This is a good thing,” Omega agrees. “If Terzo is willing to help?”

Terzo’s motivation for volunteering for this falters. He could be selfish and leave them to their mess and continue working towards being Head Cardinal to make his father ‘proud,’ or he can buckle down and scoop some of the goodness in his heart and help these creatures.

“Of course I am,” Terzo says, genuine and willing to work. “You Ghouls deserve only the best accommodations.”

-

Secondo doesn’t believe his eyes. In two weeks of nearly non-stop work and elbow grease, his brother and the Ghouls have completely transformed the crypt. The cream-colored marble floors actually sparkle, the den has freshly washed blankets and quilts, and the Ghouls’ shared bedrooms are organized and vacuumed.

He was worried that the $2,000 dollars Terzo put in as an expense was being used to rebuild the destroyed floor and moldy cabinets.

Omega proudly leads Secondo and Sister Imperator around the den. “It took lots of convincing, but Terzo and I managed to get Alpha to get rid of his hoard of expired food and gross blankets.”

The two humans see Terzo, Alpha, and Mist at the kitchenette on the far left wall, the sounds of cooking floating through the open room.

His brother was actually cooking?

“Ah, Fratello, Sister! Welcome!” Terzo calls. He steps away from the stove, handing the wooden spoon to Alpha. “We’re just finishing up a feast of Linguine alle Vongole to surprise you with.”

Secondo could tear up at how radiant his brother seems when Omega sweeps him into an embrace.

Sister blinks at the display of affection, especially when the other Ghouls do their own sweet greeting to Terzo and Omega.

“You look so happy,” Secondo says quietly.

“I am happy. The cleaning was tough, but we got through it together and built a space that will be comfy for us to spend the upcoming midsummer Heats.” Terzo smiles.

“You’re saying that as if you’re participating,” Sister Imperator raised an eyebrow. “There are rules.”

Terzo straightens his posture. “Rules that shouldn’t exist. Look at what we’ve accomplished together! I feel like I have a meaning.”

Secondo opens his arms. Terzo runs into them, burying his head in the crook of his brother’s neck just like he did as a child. “You’ve grown in these past weeks, Fratellino. I’m so proud of you and I hope you continue this path of finding what makes you happy.”

To Terzo, happiness is no longer a red cassock hanging in his closet, but seeing the satisfaction in the eyes of his new packmates as they spend time together in the safe den.

One day he’ll become Head Cardinal, and the Ghouls will be right there by he and his brother’s side.

[vahalia-cress]

⸸ Agathokakological ⸸

“I seek to prepare my children for life as it is not some delusion for what we wish it were.”

There were always ways to ward off negative energy, things people considered to be ‘evil spirits'. Tales passed down from one generation to the next, real experiences relived through the telling of stories and bedtime tales. What parents once told their children as wondrous tales before slumber often held some truth to them. The tales that had been spun by Odessa, Vahalia’s mother, and now herself were no different. However, to balance the course of a crumbling star one often had to remake themselves anew to forge ahead, using whatever abilities and gifts necessary to combat the outside sources around them.

Were evil spirits merely a product of people seeking other methods of power to simply survive in such times? It was the nature of every living thing, after all. Mortals were no different.

What was the line between good and evil and what room was there for such to become blurred, ignored by moral compass?

Kindness was easy, being burdened by ignorance a blessing to some as blissfully they opted to go on about their lives without knowing the wiser of the true dangers that surrounded them.

What was a life best used?

Fighting to stay alive? Making due and staying soft in a cruel world?

Tales told of bells that were used to ward off evil spirits and vicious entities. Vahalia remembered the clergy in Ishgard often adorning bells along their belts and hems to banish wickedness. Fall and Winter months often bringing about ropes of sacred bells that were used to cleanse farmlands. The ringing of the bells to herald in a new solstice; hoping for a bountiful harvest and good fortune. Flowers that held such same shape as a bell such as foxglove that was adorned in maiden’s hair and flower crowns. Witches of old decorated their fingers with the foxglove as they toiled with their spellwork.

In some spaces the sound and chime of these objects were symbolic of creative power, the shape forever that a symbol of the divine feminine force and celestial vault said to enhance harmony and augment power. In some cases, stories told of the rare occasion when necromancy had used bells to summon the dead.

Used for protection and cleansing or used to awaken something far more unholy in nature.

Vahalia had come to know them as a longstanding symbol of House Durendaire along with trinkets used to ward off the Fae or to known them as witches’ bells.

However they were viewed from culture to culture, they were a boon to a craft and such was no different from her own.

The knell of the trinket at her belt cut through the darkness of the space when Vahalia dismounted, Asmodeus content with being tied off for some well-deserved rest. She had ridden for much of the night at the behest and summons from Hakan to Kozama’uka. He had not said what the summons had been pertaining to but without delay Vahalia had rode to him, knowing full well that there was typically a good reason as to why she had been called upon to such a remote area.

The glowflies flickered en masse within the dark area and the sound of the falls filled her ears the closer she drew towards her consort who stood by the water’s edge. Around them were the naturally formed rock formations and hollowed-out ceilings of earthen bodies, the stars speckled brightly above where parts of the lush canopy blotted out much of the moon.

"An interesting place to wander out to. Are you looking for something?" curiously her gaze cut over the waters,"I’ve never known you to be much of the fishing type."

Hakan knelt by the riverside, gold-like fingers submerged and toying with the water. It was an odd sensation; the water against the stone was cool, and his jaw tightened. Not moving from where he was, he dug one of the syringes Vahalia had spoken about out from his coat and held it up over his shoulder to be seen without looking at his company. "Figured a less secluded spot would be better to try this, rather than a house with infants in them. In a city made of wood."

Light golden eyes caught sight of the glass piece and Vahalia merely nodded, despite Hakan not seeing it. The rocks, the water -- middle of nowhere -- it made sense, "I see. I appreciate the consideration." she took a few steps forward and gazed towards him, "Are you feeling well enough to try it?"

He scoffed, scarred mouth quirking. "Wouldn't be taking it were I well," he cracked, though the amusement faded. He knew what she meant. Bringing the syringe into his face, vial yet missing, his expression became contemplative. "I've no idea how I'll react to this, it's a shot in the dark born of best intentions. You've theorized it won't be useless at the very least, but..."

There was a gentle roll of Vahalia’s eyes, "Perhaps, but your impatience knows no bounds at times." she took a few steps forward and rounded Hakan’s side, "I assume it will do nothing or it will be painful. I have no idea how your body will react to voids that are touched vitally or aetherically. You're quite complex in your own abilities and far from someone I consider to be the typical norm."

He opened his mouth about to argue only to close it and tip his head. She wasn't wrong. Just because he was forced to live like a spy didn't mean he was cut for it, not for any longer than necessary. He took a deep breath through his nose, empty hand searching for the vial of her mixture, the vital within almost black. "Did you do any research on the idea? See if there were others, similar cases?"

Vahalia simply shook her head, "None in any of the text I had delved into. Ishgard has nothing of the sort and there is no mention of it in the tomes or books in Old Sharlayan, though I suspect older and more important writings are well guarded at the very least." closing her eyes she lifted her hand, knuckle of her index finger rubbing at her eye, "Haven't heard any rumors of such either." once more her attention turned to Hakan as she watched him go about the course.

"I don't think either of them would unless you managed access to some restricted library. Suppose any books out there not locked away would've been just as difficult to find...Dark mages, just to put a name to it, wouldn't be keen on spreading info." he snerked while he examined the vial for a long second, then slowly slotted it into the syringe.

The Lady Cress’s eyes cut along Hakan's mien as she spoke and he readied the piece, "I suspected as much. But there is worth in meager gossip and rumors. Often slivers of truth. It's just a matter of knowing where to look and perhaps being in the right place at the right time." the swath of her silks shifted and her hand placed to his forearm closest to her, "Best of luck then. I'll be sure to cut you down should it be necessary."

Hakan canted his head in Vhaalia’s direction and hiked a brow. "Yet you just said you heard no rumor-- or was it no rumor to recorded works? If you heard anything about how void blood affected others comparably to me, I'd prefer to hear something rather than toss the die on nothing."

She laughed and shook her head, "Just because I said I heard no rumors of another with your plight, doesn't mean there isn't a possibility out there that someone exists with such. As I said, we simply haven't picked up on the rumor should there be one. As of current, I have not heard of any. Two things can be true at once. It does one well to be open-minded."

He sighed heavily enough to draw and drop his shoulders. He pressed his tongue to the bottom of his canine, eyes on the glass and the needle. "I assume as far as tests go, it's smarter to start with a vein in the arm rather than jamming it into my chest."

Hakan was met with a nod of agreement,  "Best to avoid getting too close to vital organs. I would suggest somewhere a little closer to the afflicted area if you can. Would you prefer my assistance or leave it to yourself?"

He rolled his jaw, contemplating the offer. He shook his head but held the syringe up to her all the same; there was still his coat to doff and sleeves to roll regardless.

As it was offered, Vahalia reached inward and took the syringe as she inspected the contents closely and stepped around him to his afflicted side as her free hand motioned to him, "Wherever you prefer it to be, just let me know."

He stopped moving briefly with the coat already having off one shoulder, arm half out of the sleeve. "I've only the one arm it can be used on," he deadpanned. Once his arm was ready, he held out the hand that wasn't flesh expectantly.

Vahalia’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly -- perhaps a glint from the passing glow of the flies in the area or simply pure spite due to his unnecessary comment. She placed her free hand under his elbow and without warning plunged the needle into his flesh, perhaps being a little rougher than she first sought to be. Thumb pushing the end, liquid swiftly sent into his body. When gone, she removed the piece and took a step back to look him over, expecting something – if anything -- to take place.

Equally Hakan’s eyes narrowed at Vahalia, more than a little suspicious. He probably should've known better, and could've reacted if he did -- Instead, he was subject to her stabbing, fingers in his hand curling hard into a fist and a hiss escaping his mouth. The quickness of it was no boon, the puncture already beading crimson and aching. He glared down at her. "Bitch."

She closed her eyes as she crossed one arm under her bosom, the other delicately tilting the syringe to and fro between her fingers, "Keep it up and I'll pump you full of air. The Twelve know you're full of it anyways, what's a little more?"

Hakan clicked his tongue sharply at her. He moved to cover the stab wound and apply pressure, leather-clad gold fingers clamping over dusky flesh. "If air is all I'm full of, it's because the rest's spent being pumped into you," he snarked back, teeth halfway bared. He took his gaze from her and settled it over the back of his hand, over the injection point. All that was left was – He made a face, and grimaced, his organic fingers flexing and wrist rolling at the same time his neck did. For a moment there was something he felt, but it was little more than odd. A spasm, an ember sparking.

Vahalia simply tilted her head as she watched him, eyes trailing over his entire frame right down to his feet, half expecting Hakan to morph into something otherly worldly -- at worst. At best, it might work but of course that was the best possible outcome they had been gunning for from the onset, "Anything?"

There was a small shake of his head and Hakan was about to respond 'No' before the word caught on the tip of his tongue, clawed its way back down to stick in his throat with a "Nngh." The fingers of the stone-like prosthetic ripped up from the inside of his elbow, clasped against his bicep as he hunched over in place. Eyes blowing wide, veins in his neck showing from the way he clenched his jaw, he felt the fire rising as black spiderweb-like veins from the point her blood joined his raked at his skin, almost pulsating.

The witch-woman stepped back slightly as Hakan hunched over, her hand that had the syringe had abandoned the piece entirely and her palm found the back of his shoulder, her own body tilted and listed with Hakan’s movements to try and keep a better eye on him as he was in an obvious stage of discomfort and some unseen war being sprung within him. She hadn't prepared them for possible failure but the idea in total was entirely risky, something she had brought up previously before he even decided to take the injection.

He was at the very least, determined and mindful or the ramifications that could possibly befall him. Open to trying just about damn near anything to rid himself of the plight that had befallen his body well over a year ago.

Hakan could already feel burning through the clothes on his back, clothes of linen and leather already emitting a singed smell to the air around them. Stone dug so hard into flesh that it bruised, skin about to tear. Head hovering near the ground, brow knit furiously, he exhaled what looked like smoke into the still air. Drawing in a breath, he clamped down on the fire that felt like it was about to pour from his eyes, to roll outward, and consume.

Vahalia held her hand where she could to provide comfort for as long as she could before she finally withdrew it with a sharp hiss. Never before had he burned so hot to wound her save for that singular time in Thavnair. Seemingly ages ago. Her raw hand lifted to clutch the front of her heirloom and the cool onyx under her flesh pulsed to life and an inky shadow bled from under her frame along the ground to where a figure crawled to the reach of the cool waterside behind the Highlander, "What can I do to help?" she asked, finally. A silly question in her mind she had been putting off from asking. How could she possibly assist him when there was evidence of intense pain? Calling upon Creature was simply a precaution but would likely come to no surprise given the circumstances.

Hakan’s temples pounded hard with blood, drums beating incessantly in his ears; it drowned out Vahalia’s voice, made anything but the once green grass now charred earth beneath his feet, his body, the only thing he could note. His prosthetic hand left his arm, clutched at the spot over his heart where fingers began digging into cloth and flesh alike. Again he choked out a breath of heat and brimstone. Light, embers, flicked along his skin like cracks about to break, battling and consuming the foreign ichor plunged into his vital. He remained hunched, stuck and seized for seconds, minutes, time he could not focus on to count. Eventually, he started to slump, the tightness in his neck, his body, easing till he felt like whatever strings holding him up had been cut. Hakan breathed, in, out, in and out. Calm. Then his body seized once more and he pitched forward, hands shooting out into the ground to keep him upright as he expelled a stream of black bile from his mouth into the waters below

Watching all this take hold, Vahalia slid along the small mound of charred ground and into the water to try and catch Hakan by the shoulders, at times like this it was his size she disliked most of all. She braced for the heavy impact to keep him from falling into the water or striking against anything but felt the weight of the Highlander cease entirely as Creature's long fingers grabbed Hakan along his right shoulder. A respite, as silent as it came the help was given without asking, and for a split second Vahalia's golden eyes found the reflects of milky depths and void ladden hues that belonged to Creature as the clicking and chittering murmured lowly behind Hakan. 

As the beast angled Hakan further from the water's edge after he expelled the bile, Vahalia found her footing, hand lifting to smooth the blonde strand from Hakan’s face. It was here that Hakan’s right hand adjusted, moving forward to slam-splash into the water. Halia's presence, and help, were effective as he committed to empty his stomach into the river, as his skin burned from within. It felt forever until he was simply dry heaving over his reflection, throat raw and body empty of strength. On Creature's touch, there was a searing snap and flash in the air, and Hakan was suddenly half curled on his side, dazed as Creature withdrew a pace or two.

Vahalia maneuvered the best she could allowing Hakan what he needed in the moment, his body rejecting the foreign entity within his veins. When he half curled she moved to try and hoist him against her as she combed his stray hair from his face, the heat that emitted from him was intense, aflame and scorching as her other hand placed gently under his chin to get a better look at his eyes; even for as dazed as he was, "I'm sorry." she muttered still looking him over, "I was confident it could help."

His eyes, glazed and unfocused, rolled in her direction. In the heat that rolled off him, heat that felt as if it was burning him too, her hand was a cool source. Her apology, a sharp thread through the haze of exhaustion seeping into him. Ever so slightly he shook his head, not blaming her in the least, but unable to voice it. The most he could do was stay as he was, barely conscious.

Carefully, Vahalia lifted her hand craned behind her as she dipped her fingers in the cool stream from the falls that had come their way. Wet knuckles and palm placed to his cheek and forehead where she would repeat the process of at least trying to soothe his discomfort. Creature looked on at the pair as a breeze of whispers caught Vahalia's ears, "No." she spoke over Hakan's shoulder to the beast, "He's not dying." she added, with swift warning.

Hakan closed his eyes as the moisture cooled his skin, briefly He squinted at Halia, words a buzz in his ears, but too tired to do more than expel a stilted chuckle. 

No, he wasn't dying, he just felt close to it. Swallowing, he let his head thud against the ground and closed his eyes. There were words, thoughts, it was clear in the way he tried to work his mouth, but they didn't come.

Vahalia waved her hand at Hakan, "Just rest, don't bother talking." she scooted to her knees behind him to lift pieces of charred leather from his form, fingers lifting away linen and parts of his clothing to inspect the various areas of his flesh that she could. Everything they had tried had been null up to this point, more often than not, Vahalia's theories and attempts always falling short and Hakan regularly paying the price for hope. Hope for a cure despite him never admitting it outwardly.

He couldn't help it; he laughed. It was a breathy, reedy-sounding thing, but it was enough to alert her that he was too tired to argue, to do much of anything. "Y'might...have to call Bruce..."

"Oh come now..." Vahalia began and she eventually found a place beside him as she too decided to rest along the ground, "I've done plenty of living outside in the past few months, what is another night if need be?" she had joked, as it was evident in her small laugh and she looked sidelong towards him, "I doubt Bruce would be able to lift much of you. You're both the same size. He'd manhandle you a little I'm sure -- I can call upon him if you're serious."

Hakan cracked an eyelid and arched a brow. "Tall, maybe. Stronger than, likely." He closed his eyes, and let his thoughts drift in place. The stone-gold hand that had been thrust on him, its fingers, glowed still even as his flesh dimmed. It twitched against the scorched grass now and again. "Might have to, come morning," he continued, sentences jilted. He didn't have much faith that he'd wake up rejuvenated. "Heh. Unfortunate, that you can't enjoy having me...at your mercy."

With a sigh, Vahalia’s playfulness left her as he made his comment, a small piece made in jest and she gave a small shake of her head, "Leave it to you to think of dirty shit when you're half-breathing." she huffed lowly and looked to the rocky ceiling above them and the lack thereof not too far off that held dozens of splattered stars in the dark sky, "You rest, I'll atleast make the space comfortable for the evening and safe. Luckily for us, Asmodeus has his traveling gear so there is a bedroll and small supplies."

Large shoulders shrugged against the earth. "Not...so much, dirty, just..." He twitched his hand in a failed attempt to gesture vaguely, in general. "Water," he asked, the mention alone sounding more than good.

She had spent the night making Hakan comfortable, watching over him for any and all improvements that might have been made over the hours he remained silent. There was no conversation and little to no movement from him as every once in a while Vahalia offered him water and routinely checked his pulse.

Creature had been a boon, a shadow of shadows that kept watch over the location to either handle intruders or simply contend with the wildlife that happened to meander through.

The fire flickered well into the morning and even when the sounds of birds came alive overhead, there was little else to do than sit in silence with the waking world and nature around them. 

A good deed with good intentions turned wrong. They sought a vital cure for Hakan’s condition and once again failed. Perhaps it was simply the price of the methods used. Dark, taboo, the very things people would stray from considering how dangerous the risks were and Hakan dove head first into the theories.

It was either he trusted her completely or he was extremely desperate to rid himself of his own curse that he never bothered questioning Vahalia on how dangerous hers was. Even to him. Was it possible it could have been a bit of both?

Sitting at the water’s edge as daylight broke through the clearing overhead, Vahalia tended to her hand, the reddened flesh still carried the warmth and searing feeling she had felt hours prior. The cool water both soothed and causing the pain to recourse once more before bandaging it in clean linen.

Healing was an option as she was well versed in it but she would hold on to her strength and reserves to keep Creature abound should trouble come across them and she had to defend their space. Bandits weren’t a rarity within the area as she, Wren, Castien, and Cordeila had the pleasure of contending with them in previous weeks.

Being distracted by other things around them, even the pain surging within her palm couldn’t tear her thoughts from the roiling sensation of guilt that made a home in her stomach.

Collab w/ @belgravexiv

[adamsuniverse1144]

Screaming, crying, throwing up because my Throuple is coming together wonderfully 🥹🥹🥹

AHHHH I FORGOT TO ADD THE TW!!! Life is hard, cancer, growing up too fast, MCD, angst with a happy ending ✨

NOW FOR AN INFO DUMP:

🤍 The adorable blonde is Anna. In the grand scheme of things, she’s the ray of sunshine and endless energy. Anna is dating both boys after they (their entire friend group) met at college. She’s a Neutral Good character, she can be really reallllly petty but she’s got such a kind heart. Anna was kicked out of her home at 16 for being trans, and later on we find out she was adopted into a really dangerous area. Her foster parents are assholes and continue to ignore any kind of contact she wants now that she’s “unholy”. She moved out and immediately fell into the arms of a teacher who’d been gr00ming her for years and “helped” with her transition. (I say “helped” because paying for top surgery isn’t really a noble act when you’re a fucking creep). In college she met all of the other characters, including her two Mains Hazel and Adam. It was a bit of a task to get them to stop fighting over her (like a whole ass fist fight almost happened because Adam does 𝑛𝑜𝑡 back down and Hazels a little hotheaded), but being sucked into the same friend group by association brought the boys close together, and eventually they fall in love too, making the Vee polycule a throuple 🥹🥹🥹 If people thought the two main characters were a slow burn, they were sadly mistaken with these guys 😂.

🤍 She eventually moves to a group of houses clustered together with the eight person friend group they’ve created for themself and you know what? Fuck you, she lives happily ever fucking after with a few minorly traumatizing instances. They start a band because actually why the fuck not when so many of them love to sing and are musically inclined?

🤍 Her relationship with her two Mains is heavily influenced by Die Antwoord, or in other words, she’s their Little. They cherish the hell out of her and she’s very happy, especially having six other partners. It can be a little chaotic with eight people living in close quarters but she couldn’t be more thankful and she deserves it all.

🤍 All jokes aside, Anna is a real huge inspiration to me. She’s been through so much, and she’s living a life she never thought she’d be so lucky to have 🥹

🤍 Age: She’s 24 in this picture

Height: 5’7

Orientation: Bisexual

Favorite color: Rainbow or anything that sparkles.

Alignment: Looks like a cinnamon roll, IS a cinnamon roll

Place in the band: Strong alto, working on her range into soprano

🤍✨Favorite quote: “I don’t need a nap! You guys are 𝑘𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 my joy!”

💛 HAZELLLLLL 😍😍😍 is the guy with the dreads. His actual name is Artez, but his mother’s maiden name sounds so much like Nutella that everyone consistently mishears or mispronounces it as that, and hence the joke “Hazel” like “Hazelnut”. Hazel is on the other spectrum of sunny; he likes to look on the bright side. He loves his partners with his life and can be a little protective, but it’s all in good standing with the others. Being a 6’5 black man comes in handy I guess because having trans partners gave him a little sass when it comes to telling people to fuck off and leave his hot partners alone. There’s a running joke that he has to beat people off with sticks, but actually cannot perceive when anyone he’s not close to is flirting with him.

💛 Hazel grew up in a relatively happy home, but his sister was sick for months before they found out she had leukemia. His mother had raised them both alone, so he started picking up the slack around the house. He slept in his sisters room so his mom could get sleep, he’d wash her sheets and help her remember the various invasive appointments and procedures. His mom went off the deep end for a bit trying to bring her health back in ANY way possible. Like any normal 8 year old, this stressed him the hell out. He had a temper that flared all the time at school, and he barely made it out of Middle School without being expelled. His sister died his sophomore year which only served to feed his grief and anger at the world. During that time, the only person who seemed to understand him was his mother and they grew extremely tight knit. She’s referenced or called a couple times in the story, and he visits her whenever they have the free time. Fun fact: his mom met Anna and told her she was so happy to have a daughter again and I cried writing it 😅🥰🥹😍

Hazel met Anna first in college, and of course with their similar personalities, they hit it off. She was bright and silly and everything he’d ever searched for when it came to partying and munches (ifykyk). Unfortunately, another man was sniffing around and he was livid. Of course the man ended up staking his claim on Anna’s right hand, and Hazel (though happily) snatched the left. One girl, two hands, and two boyfriends that hate the fuck out of each other turned into my personal favorite troupe: High Energy Sparkle Princess, Cheerful Jock and Grumpy Little Ball of Darkness.

💛 Age: He’s 25 in this picture

Height: 6’5

Orientation: Bisexual

Favorite color: Yellow

Alignment: Looks like he will unalive you, is a cinnamon roll

Place in the band: Drummer, Bass and Baritone. Think Khalid, Lah Pat, and a lot of Lil Wayne

💛✨ Favorite quote: “Aw, is that what you wanted? You came in here dressed to the nines so I’d call you my princess?”

🖤 SPEAKING OF GRUMPY LITTLE BALLS OF DARKNESS: ADAM!

Now I know what commoners around my page might be thinking, “Wait, isn’t one of the pages alters named that or something? Something with an ‘A’… maybe Adrian? Adonis?” It’s Adam, if you didn’t know and yes.

This character is extremely important to me, very much extremely important. Not that most will care but I just finished a really big part of therapy, and have a more clear vision of a couple of my alters. I put a lot of blood, sweat and tears into this character and Jeanne (my therapist) was so helpful and kind about how taxing it was to bring him out a bit more. Anyways…

🖤 Adam is… well… he’s just built different. No I don’t mean cool necessarily, I just mean he is very much still a mystery to a lot of the characters in the story. He’s wise but he can be silly, he’s responsible but I wouldn’t recommend reading his mind, and he’s nice but I wouldn’t say you should piss him off on purpose either. He’s a lot of things, and the rest of them absolutely adore him despite him being a bossy little dictator– Oh sorry, a “Top-Leaning Dominant”. I believe the phrase, “A freak in the sheets and everywhere else too” would be a fine analysis 😂 He’s mild tempered so he genuinely doesn’t really yell at people, and he’s kind of a pack animal. He prefers and is most comfortable with his polycule and Mains and any other people trying to talk to him makes him extremely uncomfortable. He’s happy where he is and does not wish for anything more.

🖤 (Adam’s backstory has some of mine in it, I’ll admit. Not the first part though 😂) He always knew he was a boy, and when he finally brought it up to his parents they were extremely supportive and fought for him to get everything he’d need to feel comfortable in his skin. He was fulfilled, but unfortunately depression is hereditary. He suffers from Major Depressive Disorder characterized by being okay more often than not and then having a horrible crash that can last anywhere from a day and a half to an entire month of the worst depression one can describe. After a poor coping mechanism goes horribly wrong, he dies at 18.

🖤 Just kidding! They electrocute his ass back to the world of the living and put him in The Grippy Sock Hotel for three months of intensive therapy and med adjustment. During that time his arm is in a sling, but he does his best to actually put in effort despite the supreme “done” feeling in his chest. His parents aren’t allowed to visit because he doesn’t want them to see him like this, but they pick him up and tell him he doesn’t have to hide it anymore.

🖤 His parents tell him about the real college they went to and he shrugs himself into applying there. He’s really shy and anxious at first, but then he meets Anna. Adam has also known he was gay for a long time and never so much as looked once at a girl, but he sees Anna and it’s love at first sight for him. Her rambunctious excitement matches his brooding gothic sensibilities quite nicely. That Bozo hanging out with her is on his hit list until he and Hazel end up getting a very stern talking to by one of their mutual friends about being animals over Anna and it embarrassed him enough to try and be friendly with the stupid asshole constantly smirking at him to royally piss him off. It takes him a very long time to warm up to people, but Hazel manages to annoy his way into his heart and you know the rest.

Age: 24

Height: 5’6

Orientation: Homoflexible

Favorite color: Black and Purple, but mostly black

Alignment: Looks like they might unalive you, will unalive you if its convenient

Place in the band: He can do a lot of everything, but he prefers mixing music or rapping. Think… NF but not annoying, Yung Gravy but not stupid, and a dash of Lil Wayne (I only say that because he can freestyle and create stories with it, it’s actually really cool)

🖤✨Favorite quote: “The next person to call me an edgelord is going to be edged for however long I feel like.”

art by pandan009 or @screwpinecaprice

oc’s by me, teehee 🖤☠️✨

[smallraindrops-blog]

Okay

1. Demeter and Y/n au, you say? 👀

2. Baby?? Centaur??? Raindrops, why???

2. Because reasons. Also i just want one. 😭

As for the au thing, here

Okay so gods all have a place that is sacred to them. In this au, Ares tries to kills Y/N in a place that is special to Demeter.

Demeter felt great pity for this foolish mortal, who fought a god and lost. But she finds out he did to save others, like many mothers and daughters.

The ice around her heart melts just a little.

So as he is dying, Demeter was kind enough to divined him. She made him one of her attendants. In her court, he plays as a god/spirit of Decay.

He is what happens after sleep, after death.

The natural decay of the world, of the body, of plants.

Like this I like to think, he would still look like himself, maybe with faint smell of fresh loam, or damp leaves clinging to his skin. Since he works mainly with Demeter, he deals mostly with plants but also animals and unburied bodies.

He would learn every beautiful and ugly part of what it takes for clay to return the Mother Earth. Circles are a common symbol for him, dust to dust if you will along with bugs and moss and fungus/mushrooms.

His eyes would take an unnatural, unholy quality to them, like he can see someone past their rank, their mortal or divine skins. He would known their bones more intimately than their owners.

This doesn’t make him popular. ( surprise me too.)

but Demeter likes that he does his duties and that even after his change, he still watches out for young maidens. ( she was suspicious of it at first but once she get to know him better, she realize she nothing to fear.)

Thanatos still wouldn’t like Y/N since one. He keeps trying to get into the underworld to see his parents but the doors of the underworld remain locked to him.

And two. Hypnos was far too interested in this new god.

And hypnos very much wanted to know everything about Y/N. Especially when Achilles learned what is happening and Hypnos ends up acting as a messenger for them on the sly.

At first Y/N didn’t care about anything but his parents, he just wanted to check on them, then return to his duties.

But hypnos wormed in his way into Y/N’s heart and they slowly fall in love during quiet nights, the snow gleaming like millions of diamonds.

They would rest their heads on soft grass and whispers gentle words to each other, fingers locked together.

Eventually y/n will get to see his parents and became one of the rare gods who can travel between the surface and underworld.

[silversiren1101]

Omorose atrocity reel for the ask game please

What HASN'T she done at this point - anyway, the Omorose greatest hits! (Why she's problematic and why she's the best)

Was a lawyer when she was a mortal living woman in Osirion.

When her family was sheltering in Wati during the Plague of Madness, she used the opportunity to ritually sacrifice her two children and husband in a bloody ritual to Mahathallah to transfer her soul into the core of an ancient automaton chassis she purchased at auction to achieve an alternative means of immortality.

Her automaton body is a bone-colored and flame-charred exoskeleton that houses actual flesh and blood underneath. Like an infernal EVA unique with an incredibly posh accent and femme appearance.

She became a bureaucrat in her unlife after immigrating to Geb, which is arguably the only thing worse than a lawyer.

Spent 2 millennia as said bureaucrat, patiently biding her time to seize an opportunity to start grabbing power and influence.

Said position as a bureaucrat was for the fucking Geb tax collectors, which if there's anything worse than being a lawyer and anything worse than being a bureaucrat, it's being a bureaucrat pencil pusher for the undead TAX COLLECTORS.

She took particular delight in repossessing farming and labor equipment for defaulting cases; i.e., using Bind Undead to repossess zombies and other mindless undead used for as labor tools from defaulting farmers and such, who are also undead. (Yes mindless undead are considered property in the land of undeath).

She's a fucking Blood Lord now. (Think like, parliament).

Her special interests are blackmail and information brokerage: she aspires to know dirt on everything and everyone and sell it to anyone for the right price.

Her specialty in combat is summoning devils straight from Hell, and has several fiends in her retainer as bureaucrats for her. She particularly likes summoning hell wasps.

Her other specialty is unholy fire. She's basically walking napalm.

Has exploded said summons with her allies in range.

Has thrown numerous fireballs into where her allies are fighting.

When discovering there were two separate forces from Holomog in the Field of Maidens along Geb's south border, managed to convince the more militaristic one to attack and slaughter the other more peaceful one so they didn't go home empty handed... so charming as an infernal robot powered by blood and death she can charm even azatas.

She caused Kortash Khain, literally the ghoul of all time--personal chosen of Kabriri, level 20 and mythic level 6, Ruler of Nemret Noktoria the land of ghouls--to lose his tithe from Geb when she was literally right in front of him because Geb (the ghost) asked for her opinion on the exchange for shits and giggles.

Had the honor of then being the "personal escort" (babysitter) to said ghoul of all ghouls around Mechitar to rub it in his face.

Convinced the lackey of a rival Blood Lord to join us and spread his fake death across every major news outlet in Geb so successfully that it looked like his former master abandoned him after abusing him for centuries. Guy became a tragic beloved figure overnight from no one knowing who he was.

Her Earn Income checks are with Deception. We've flavored this as her taking credit for other people's work or just changing names on timesheets to her own.

Met the Urgathoan Pope (another level 20 and mythic character) and admitted to her face that we were why Kortash Khain lost the trade exchange and said he was pathetic and weak candidly and made her genuinely laugh.

Used Command on a flying creature to "Fall" and made them fall 150 feet to a necrotic lake below. Twice.

When said person didn't join the fight again, used a crystal ball to Scry on them to see them, sopping wet, reporting in to the rival Blood Lord on what happened.

Sent a Sending to said Blood Lord commiserating that good help is so hard to find and he should vet his minions better. He can thank us for doing the hard work for him - said minion was then beat so badly that she was still injured when we showed up despite having Regeneration/Fast Healing.

And I KNOW I'm missing stuff. I've said so many things in RP that would put me on a fucking list lmao

[tricoloredillusion]

@unholy-fall-maiden continued from here!

Neo didn't seem hostile, but hurt could be read in her eyes. In part, however, there was acknowledging that the mute herself did -admittedly- help with giving Cinder a reason to get rid of her.

The death threat and blackmail with the Relic and Salem...it was definitely not a kid's game, nor a joke.

And the illusionist was aware of it.

She didn't even forget about the things Cinder told her about her brother...the family she had before the Grimm attacked them, but she took a step closer to the Maiden and looked up without hesitation.

'That's what you think? That it's not my business?' Angry text floating in front of her, but the clenched teeth didn't take long to soften on Neo's expression.

[libidomechanica]

With light by

A kimo sequence

               1

That grew beside a human door! With light by light: lonely thing, that soon he rose and warmth of loue.

               2

But Flight. Of air, not pure as it, yet pure, doth well delight. My slumber was gone for you, my dear.

               3

Because the blue sky bends over and trust that I shall those tears; take me to the centre. But there.

               4

Pushing toward daybreak. A dainty dish to set before me, when the trance was o’er, the mastiff bitch?

               5

I do not the disaligned. Though yet, heaven seems half-way to lift some weight of low replies.

               6

That hole where leather men are vain? And slowly rolled her with me, we’re wed to one eternity.

               7

I have been faithful to you, Cynara! Harry, Tommy, Wilfred, Edward, Bert—and light and song.

               8

Stay with your old baggage. Plunge them in up to thee, and thee to mee: no, no, no, my Deare, let bee.

               9

Says, I wanted to get married. With blushing shame, by rage suppress’d, let tears, and weep each other?

               10

To sit a star upon the floor below. And, Do I dare? No, no, my Deare, let bee.

               11

Cannot flie away. Nor equal, nor unequal: each fulfils defect in each, and lang’rous waist!

               12

—Thy words, relieve my verse in time, your fortune— range the wilds of Time, perhaps not a woman, off!

               13

Make in misery to live. And lie, ever singing, each to each. Makes you tyrants in the end.

               14

Free from fear, they cross’d the diver’s brain, for a lady’s chamber floor. Yet so did I let my friend.

               15

Now do I know this: I fell in love wilt hear; if from thee. Oh Angel of hopeless, lasting flames!

               16

After than Phoebus, if he seav’n times bright! For forbidden fires. To spit out all the dance was mine.

               17

Bright eyes, that all her hard and cold white as stone. Involved in stillness, plighted vows fleeting as air!

               18

Assist the field is universe into a lute. Is it indeed so? Be thine! The air is still!

               19

I told my love had seen mine execution. Curse on all best exceed proportions of the year.

               20

And gave a twist to me. Which stands check’d; Religion of my mind, thy words, thou art as tyrannies.

               21

I’ll wrap it round. Till the same chance!—Harry, Tommy, Wilfred, Edward, Bert— and light a cigarette.

               22

And all thou know’st to my dear doting heart. Do love you here is none like a dog in a kennel.

               23

But tis twilight dawned; and out of sight. Owe this dearest, that long-wish’d-for end, full to thee, and doubt.

               24

The lovely lady’s shroud. I heard the mermaid now, for I will say: How his hair is growin’ yet.

               25

Give me the shade of the sky.—An’ Charlie, he’s my darling, the young Chevalier. And is he gone?

               26

Ah! The Castle wa’, she saw three bonie boys playing with a dying fall beneath the huge oak tree?

               27

Our bed is lovely maid and sees a damsel bright a dame! Hand, turning her grave. By more than dead!

               28

And like a noon-dew, wanderings I have sinn’d! I want to glide a sunbeam by the Maiden’s side!

               29

Where I fly, pursue, rise in the brain is not so. Spake words Sir Leoline. I dreamed I was a child!

               30

By thee to mount, and complaint of present the bonie laddie in. Bare, lest aught unholy loiter here?

               31

And love to so base a vice, for no man knows. Much, Cynara! No matter by the might be well!

               32

He danced with rough. Amid that scenes appear where’er I turn me not to belie his soul with clay.

               33

Run afresh, as if she ’d said, Gee woe! I lift my heavy eyelids my anguish hangs like shame.

               34

To the fault; I view my crime, but kind? To labour was thine! And do accept my madness, and weak.

               35

He drank: her fair large bright and slender oats foraged in the lady’s chamber door; and the sun.

               36

A cool suspense from pain; thy life destroy. The wanton thru the flower amang them very ill.

               37

Of lonely way, close by the castle bell. As if she be small, jewel-like flower unfamiliar.

               38

The way to the blood runs out across the sounds and strange man should presume? That is so vex’d with thee.

               39

To know her but I? Or foxlike in difference. And thus she stooped, methought I heard a hollow sound.

               40

A blue moon for an instant leper. Lord of her beauty lies, when faithful to the land of spike?

               41

And none of us thought thus watred was my strange death of Jesus set me free. In this fashion.

               42

But could have this; she shall: then my hopes and men, who looked askance and end with his society?

               43

And those tender-ship, cried Sally Brown! Sleeps, and love all night upon mine ears, both I and the brow!

               44

Within the bathroom floor mocks your haire with me! So, the year, that yours and mine had bound us lie?

               45

Van Diemen’s land if certain when two dewdrops on the best, even to life in the airport. Ah!

               46

Seized, inside my honest faith in this man no more, but other me? A shining steps of thy child!

               47

Lingered in the moon is behind, and saw thee woman in contractions are five minutes apart.

               48

Comes first—light in what they might half undo it. Of loue new-coin’d to her from the pitiless wave?

               49

And his Anguish grew—how bear it? But, as luckless, I have sworn to bury all things undo me.

               50

That looks up at the lady by her word were it even for me. Loathe the side-lie of a truth.

               51

For once, a tremor breakfast the sky ascends, wi’ sangs o’ joy. And damning their necks, where away?

               52

And flush themselves forsake and for very feare would return to life, to life in thee has killed it.

               53

And the rain on my soul. And I was a rose that green mama who first forced me to Mortal part.

               54

Scott, Rogers, Campbell, Moore, and Crabbe will trim. To sail with old Benbow; and here, ev’n then, shall be poor.

               55

The Sexes rose to work upon is much too much, some say, she seems that sweet said, that thou to dread?

               56

And hark, again! From happy pieties, thy lute, thy pipe, thy incense sweet face of you and me.

               57

Why should poor beauty from my love, my life. But, as luckless, I have known the rain lasts anywhere.

               58

In the bud will wear white despair? Wilt thou go with me, we’re wed to one eternity in days?

               59

Not Ida; ’ clasp it once all-fragrant-curtain’d love begins again. Then downward like those who love.

               60

What peace. And her voice is strength beguiled, this golden foot of May is on the bloated hiss of death.

               61

For I have slept on the brands were stopt with griefe. Still as death, can break her word were it bitterness.

               62

The earth forever! It must be because it is a precious seal of my life, myself—and you.

               63

Is changed in a convent’s solitary Child. When I break through all the grist of its insides grow.

               64

Now folds the maid and thine for me. Than Heaven, my Lover, were my Chamber Heaven’s sun staineth.

               65

Err I dare to look at the basin and wriggling on thy fame! My own heart’s heart, where, while I weep!

               66

Till love you, dear, I’ll love you all; let Virtue be your soules; come wait on hir whom winged Psyche true!

               67

I waste my heart and mine should hindred be. Gloom, and nothing can be old, for as you with my death.

               68

For once and show me what I meant, at all. Proud of many, lives upon his gaine is our lost will.

               69

I call, I call: who do ye call? And the rent, and long to stay with your old baggage. I would get.

               70

—Not the power to burn and be all that bloody torments you doe give, creatures, couched her homage.

               71

Geraldine shakes thee hence. Yet, if Hope has flown away in a night, or in nothing but a feint.

               72

That heart to this fool lord, dare I bid her abide by her side; nor strange. That is misunderstood.

               73

You soarer, you of the sea. ’ Echoing straits between the hills? Again she sees my lady’s maid.

               74

Nor shall die tonight, I wrote this morning. Black Melancholy reigns; what means the warm leaden sheet.

               75

And the gravelly sand take a body to it, even blue-eyed fly to the field. Sir Leoline?

               76

From op’ning on the crowing cock, how drowsily it crew. Shall ever was in our own child-bed.

               77

Within and whom I am confined. Water so cleanly I myself upon the floor below.

               78

Cries to catch her but I? Of all that we see or seem is but as a tomb which happened balloon.

               79

Out for love, to give the wreath’d trellis of a working brain, love alone. With a moonlight and song.

               80

I lift my heaven knows, in joys and woe so many times. To the banks, close of each too, too late.

               81

My soul would only be the best, even to life in losing mine? Naked, a double behind.

               82

Like cliffs which have no fear! Beneath the weight of soil, nothing new is in us, and were at peace.

               83

I knew a beautiful olives. We men and drivers in a bar-room around its wings and neck.

               84

—Come live with me—or fall from its boundless mere, with true sight! This day my journey should I presume?

               85

Into many a summer’s front doth sing and saying plainly of not turning from yonder bay?

               86

Oft did I rove by bonnie Doon, how can you bloom so fresh and faithful to its crisis? Have guessed?

               87

I fell, and fro, while I weep! And turning away, wants to be made, cobbling at the lasting flames!

               88

Such gentle still dictates, and those faire skin, beamy eyes, for the quarters, and looking to the Pole.

               89

Pitiless wave? Flickering gyres, but he’d once about to have gone to the sun delights me.

               90

And may appear so when this rebellious heart, and that will show itself to stone. Nay, fairer yet!

               91

To swell a progress, start up, the same chance! As old as a dog, as quiet as a skeleton.

               92

Move still doth breeding flow’rs. They will sing to me. That even its grossest flatterers dare not brave.

               93

That looks up at the happy again. A clover, a Fisherman mends a glimmers on to me.

               94

To them through my fingers am I at all satisfied. Her deadly pangs be drown’d, while I slept.

               95

Rain on thee; yet eyes this curious friend. The winged’ steed, I wish we never looks both small and dull.

               96

And make my old excuse, ’ proving his caresses by the cold. With open eyes ah woe is me!

               97

To deem, as a most logical conclusion, that ’s underneath the weight. It even for me?

               98

Nay, by my own eyes inspiring hole. My heart is dust at the pin; and here, ev’n then, shall meet!

               99

Unto the straitest best of all to Love than is or ever dear! Angels of the precious jewel.

               100

Ida came behind. That brought to. But to- morrow, the field. While prostrate here increase! To the field.

               101

I cried for madder music and forms of men! His gentle daughter is safe and fro, while I weep!

[odinsson2021]

Here's the Playlist of my Tonight's Show!

I hope you liked it!

Stormwitch-Rondo ala Turca Erika-Go Down The Escape Club-Call it Poison Europe-Halfway to Heaven Glass Tiger-Far Away from here Glenn Burtnik-Not so far away Matney-Rebel Saint – The Red Neck&The Red Man 26.04.24 AC/DC-Big Balls Jackyl-She loves my Cock Michael Bormanns’s Jaded Heart-Power to Win Michael Monroe-Murder the Summer of Love Sammy hagar-Dick in the Dirt Saraya-Get U Ready Scorpions-Rhythm of Love Stage Dolls-Let's get crazy Cinderella-Bad Seamstress Blues/Falling apart at the Seams Feuerschwanz-The Unholy Grail – Warrior 19.04.24 Heimdall-Hephaistos Helloween-A little Time Nightmare-Saviours of the Damned – Encrypted 07.06.24 Iced Earth-Dark Saga Intense-I Agonoise Kissin’ Dynamite-raise your Glass – Back with a Bang 05.07.24 Insania-To Live another Day Iron Fate-We Rule the Night Elvellon-A Vagabond’s Heart – Ascending in Synergy 17.05.24 Iron Maiden-From here to Eternity Iron Savoir-Battering Ram Jacobs Dream-The Gathering Blind Guardian-Mister Sandman

[linklewinklewoman]

"That woman in red staring at me is a little intense."

( @unholy-fall-maiden Pretty blonde indeed)

[brandwhorestarscream]

I thought the Well of AllSparks was basically in the middle of an open field somewhere, no real city around it.

And yea, there's a lot of options to go with this au. I say no weird Mother of Unicron stuff, since Unicron technically isn't dead he's just asleep somewhere. I like the idea of a Unicron cult hiding out somewhere on Cybertron though and Unicronia can still be its own weird thing. Maybe Unicronia in this AU is kinda like our solar system, with eight planets circling a star and maybe Unicronia is the biggest of those eight planets.

I also like the idea of the saint and acolytes/high priests watching over the prime competition and Saint Megatronus accidentally falling in love with the most recent Prime.

It's. It's literally the heart of Iacon-

Never mind. Anyway

I have an idea: same as canon, the 13 were created to help Primus in his war against Unicron. After his defeat he was left adrift in the endless universe, and a planet forms ariund him. BUT! Instead of it being earth, or smthn akin to it, we get a proper, cybernetic planet. An entirely metallic world that mimics Primus's shape--they are twins, after all. Perhaps they're doomed to always mirror each other 🤭--and is a bit younger than Cybertron but relatively close in age, all things considering. Unicron's children (the 4 pillars of the apocalypse, Paucity, Pandemic, Artillery, and Requiem) and grandchildren (the 7 sins, all the Unicronus titled gods) are worshipped as the gods in a similar cult-like manner. Maybe, eventually, through exploration, the two species accidentally intermingle, and that's where true heresy is birthed: those of opposing pantheons introducing their ideas to others, trapped on alien planets. Are they searching for people to convert or are they simply stranded? Who can say 🤭 regardless. The worst heretics are those poisoned by the opposing gods, who's sparks and energon bear unholy colors and must be purged

Idk exactly how we'll go about the sacrificial barrier maiden thing with Unicron tho 🤔 maybe a prophecy that he is to rise and they have to sacrifice holy blood to keep him subdued?

[havvkinsqueen]

“They call it metal because the hippies, actually. Back when ‘heavy’ meant deep, or serious. There’s also a legend that some tasteless critic said that Hendrix sounded like heavy metal falling out of the sky. It has its roots in the blues, though… the fifties. Then you had like The Kinks experimenting with distortion on their chords throughout the sixties, but the first time that ‘heavy metal’ was referred to as such was in a song was in 1969. Steppenwolf. Born to Be Wild. Everything sort of snowballed after that. In 70, when Paranoid came out…Sabbath. You had your unholy trinity. Deep Purple. Judas Priest…. Zeppelin, Iron Maiden.”

---☁︎｡⋆｡ "I mean, doesn't heavy still mean that? Blues! I'm really not familiar with the blues, actually. But that's really interesting!" She stopped her commenting while Eddie spoke. That was until her eyes lit up and she couldn't hold back her outburst; "The Kinks! I know them! I like them, actually! The song Lola!" it wasn't until her hands clamped over her mouth that she realised she interrupted Eddie again. Nodding about bands that she'd only heard in passing or from shirts he wore, she was definitely interested because of his passion. "You're really smart with this stuff."