#v. all muse creations ⋯ master tag

[bruiisedpetals-a]

𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑎 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠, 𝑤𝑢𝑙𝑓𝑓𝑟𝑦𝑑 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝑑𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟, 𝑑𝑎̈𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑑𝑟 𝑥𝑜 𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑞, 𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑛𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑎 𝑑𝑟𝑢𝑚𝑚 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑛 𝑘𝑎𝑟𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑘 as text posts ... again, because this trend is peak.

[alchemic-elric]

Anonymous asked:

A quick question, do you have place where you keep all of your threads and story arcs? I’d really like to read them but I’m not sure the search bar has all of them

The search bar would be a harder way of finding them and Kai and I like master lists / Table of Contents so you can find the master list for  

Arc: Where do you Run? I Run to You  

Since the Master List’s creation an Arc playlist was made and you can find it here. 

My master list for Timeless Dance of the Eclipse isn’t quite as put together as the one Kai made for I Run to You but it’s getting there. 

I run to you is my main verse anyway so it gets the most of Kai and My attention. 

I tag all my threads with a title so if you want to use search to read them you just need to use that tag /chrono on my blog to find things. My tagging system is actually really organized. 

It break it down into Arc Tag ->  “Arc: I Run to You”  Thread tag:  EX:  “v; Camping Trip from Hell”  Other Muse tag (if Applicable)  EX: Guest Muse: Alphonse  Partner Tag:   EX:  Flameleads  or  || Don’t you leave me; You’re my Papa and one else || Flameleads ||    (all my wordy partner tags are Ed’s POV and emotions)  Trigger warning Tags: anything starting with tw; is a trigger warning tag 

Also PLEASE read this post, for more understanding about RP Blog etiquette thank you. 

Thank you for showing interest in my writing and my blog! Don’t forget you can comment on threads / events he’s dealing with / speak to Edward directly through the use of asks! ❤

[noythe]

If a thing loves, it is infinte

A small story that I wanted to rewrite, to honor the mighty Vergil and his son. Reader is the mother of Nero.

Originally posted on Ao3, hopefully it is not too awkward. 

Pairing: Vergil/Reader

Warning/Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Torture, Slow-Burn, Awkward-Romance, Lots of Angst and Fluff

Chapter 1 Hell on Earth

There once was a man, feared and respected. Loved and hated just the same.

There was life and death, pain and happiness.

But despite every terror there was on the mortal world, there was some unholy powers, trying to rule.

But what should be ruled, if there was no one left?

There was a group of Hunters, known and led by the famous son of Sparda, Dante.

The Devil May Cry.

But what of the Legends if they go mising?

Heaven, Earth and Hell, what would be the missing piece in this chaotic mess?

The world was a mess.

Where once had been peace and the wonder of creation, was only despair and terror now. Angaelic beings have watched over the mortal realm long enough. Demons only caused chaos, destruction and pain. All they cared for was ruling the world only causing despair. No matter how often humanity had been at the brink of utter destruction, there always was someone to take a stand. One of the most honorable ones had been the Dark Knight Sparda. Had he once been the right hand of Mundus - the king of the underworld - he realised that justice needed to be brought to the world and rebelled against his king, defeating his army and sealing him away along with his own power, leaving him on the human world.

To take revenge upon Sparda, the Demon King ordered his loyal monsters to elimnate Spardas family, murdering his kin. During this attack, his mortal wife Eva got killed, the twins she had born and raised for a few years survived but lived through the trauma differently. And neither of them had a pleasant memory of it. Just loosing everything. Home and family. Years have passed and while one of the brothers became a danger for the world always seeking for more power, the younger twin became a hunter - later creating Devil May Cry.

Hunting Demons and fighting his brother over and over again that was something that never changed, no matter how many years passed. But of course even this time peace didn't last forever.

And again the world needed someone to save it. And one of them was Dante, the now legendary Hunter. Earning  himself quite a name over the past decades as a proud Son of Sparda, wielding the Rebellion and mastering many weapons over the decades. A new demon King alone would have been not a big deal, not for Dante if there wouldn't be that gruesome Demon Tree, now taking a hold of Red GraveCity. Emerging from the ground, raising high into the sky and slowly taking his childhood home apart. Dante did not take this job alone. By his side were Trish and Lady, the most dangerous Women the world had seen so far. If there was someone out there to cut the tree down, it would be them.

But for once, the Son of Sparda went missing.

And that murderous tree was still standing, sucking the blood out of the humans living in that city and as much as the military tried to protect the mortals of Red Grave, their strength was far from enough. And whatever manged to survive the roots, probably got devoured by demons or killed by debris and everything that got thrown around. But if the Qlipoth would collect enough blood, it would grow a single fruit that was forbidden and powerful. Fullfilling the true desire of Urizen: Endless Power, making him the new true King over the Underwold. But also it was rare. Only once every thousand years it could grow.

Over two thousand years ago it had been harvested by Mundus, and the tragedy that followed then lead to this day. But without the Devil Hunter, how should they prevent the tragedy to repeat itself? Maybe mankind never learned from it's mistakes... But for the divine and cursed, there was no such rule. As they remembered it all. Stored in ancient tomes and memory, never to be forgotten. Always to be told, even if mortals no longercared, They forgot so fast, life always passing by in a blink.

But not everything was lost. It was just a matter of time and perhaps a young Devil Hunter needed, who was desperate to beat the Demon on his stupid throne, polishing his ugly face. One failure was enough for the kid named Nero. Even after being called a 'Dead-Weight' he tried to help those that couldn't protect themselves, but for that he had to get stronger first. Recover. He was not all alone, yet it might took a little longer than he wanted to, knowing that this was not his final goal. He wanted Urizen. But after loosing his right arm, there was a lot for him to get used to.

And while the impulsive boy cursed Nico and her way to drive that van, the annoying screeching of a bird echoed through destroyed buildings over broken streets and people turned to dust.

"Ey, V! Ey, EY! Are you listening?", Griffon complained, landing on a broken door that was about to break in, caused by the weight of the monster bird. "Of course.", the thud of a closing book followed and the slender man moved into the direction of the bird, accompanied by the constant sound of his silvery cane, hitting the ground to support his steps.

"There's so much pollen here, I might be starting to be allergic!", the bird continued loudly and faked a sneeze.

"But as long as there might be a chance to find someone who is alive, we can buy the boy more time." "Time, time, time. Always the same chatter, You gotta move! Maybe we should get a vacuum. Ey V, can ya use one if I find one? Nah..Whatever.  No time for that, r-rrrright? ", the annoying voice askeed and distanced itself from V, the door finally breaking down as he left his fomer spot and revealing another room that was abandoned and covered in dust and pollen, the remainings of a couple was laying on a bed, their bodies curled around each other, trying to comfort themselves in their very last moments. V just silently passed the room, watching the pair dissolve into a cloud of pollen. It was all Urizens fault. So many lost souls, innocent humans forever gone, who would remember them? For a while it was all quiet and calm - until there was Griffons voice once more.

"Yo! V! You gotta see this!" Silence. "Seriously! I think someone's alive!" That actually made him hurry at least a bit. V knew that he certainly wasn't in shape to run around like the boy Nero. It actually took him long enough, that Griffon met him halfway, urging him to move faster. "Hurry, Shakespeare." The building was too fragile to bust through walls, the risk to injure or kill whoever survived was simply too high and V was on a 'Be-Nice-Trip'. Perhaps they couldn't save everyone, but every single soul that survived, was one less to feed the Qlipoth, even if he was not really the biggest fan of.. helping. It was simply odd for him, Griffon didn't really understand that. Didn't matter, he had a contract with V and did as he said.

His cane scratched over the ground now and then as he made his way over the rubble, trying very hard to not fall over his feet as he barely had the strength to keep up that fast. The screaming of Griffon got louder with every step, that bird certainly growing impatient with every moment that V didn't show up. Griffon flapped his big wings in front of a door, yelling annoyed as the black haired man finally made it to his side. The thing that had kept Griffon from the potential survivor was a door. V rolled his eyes and raised hsi cane to tap against the door. "Are we playin' ''Knock, knock'' or what? Now is not the time,V!", The Bird teased V.  But there was no sound coming from that room, not a single reaction. A black giant cat manifested in front of him and dashed against the door. It had been quite stuck, the frame no longer in shape but at least the door open.

And this had been the only option to get a look inside. He had tried to open it the normal way. But with a malformed frame and all the roots around it of course wouldn't be that easy. V huffed as he finally entered the room, having a quick look around. It had been used as an ballroom, he mused. A few big round tables at the side, surrounded by the equal amount of chairs. Unless they were flipped around, destroyed or pierced through by the Qlipoths roots. The giant chandellier in the middle of the room was no longer intact, half of the luxurious golden branches were wrapped by roots , a few glass shards below it, silvery petals and to Vs surpris: fresh drops of blood. Griffon was flying around and stopped in front of a tall window that was halfly covered by curtains. The drops gathered,until there was stain - as if something had been dragged along. More roots blocked the way outside, but he assumed that whoever had been a victim of the Qlipoth, was outside most likely about to die. Even if the blood was not complely dry.. If there was hope..

The painful scream of a woman pulled him out of his thoughts and made him pick up his cane once more, Griffon already looking for a clot of blood that could help them to make it through. Not in this room. But perhaps in the one below, as some of the roots had made their way through the ground. If they hurried, they might made it in time, finding whoever was standing against the Demon King as well. Chances never were big, but they had to start somehwere, he would meet Nero soon enough. A little detour would not change much, if he was honest. Shadow and Griffon at his side he hurried out of the room again, Shadow dissolving into mist below his feet to make V move without effort and much faster than before. Every second did count. Another scream, followd by a grunt. Metal that was hitting against a solid surface, Over and over again. But with time the beating got less, rapid. As if someone was loosing their power  or the will to fight back. It took him a good while to actually reach the exit of this place, having to face a few nasty demons on the way, but of those he and familiars quickly took care of and finally were able to proceed and stumble outside, walls behind them cracking and breaking down as the support of the roots slowly vanished, now that they were cut off from blood sources. It was bright outside, the sun still fighting against the looming shadow that was cast by the growing demon tree, clouds and rain usually controlling the mood of the day. So it was indeed a surpise that at least for once the sun made it's way through and reached the ground.

And there you were, in the middle of group of Empusa, blood dripping down the right side of your face, a deep cut hovering over your brow. You certainly had seen better days, like everyone who was alive lately in Red Grave City. Your hair was a mess, sprinkled with dirt and blood and stuck to your face. And it was you  who had been fighting, the weapon of choice a rusty pipe that nearly was as long as your entire arm. But to be fair, against the sheer amount of enemies you barely had a chance and every kind of weapon would do. Countless bruises showed up wherever your clothes had been ripped into shreds, your arms and legs suffering from deep cuts as well. It was not exactly a surprise that a civilian wouldn't make it among the Empusa. But it also explained the lack of your strength.

The pipe slipped from your bleeding hands and you forced youself to kneel down and pick it up, smashing it with a feral scream into the next Empusas head. V had the urge the help so he did send his familliars to support you. Those beasts were not a challenge for Griffon or Shadow, but they had to be careful not to injure you by accident. Your reflexes were so slow and it probably was just the adrenaline that kept you standing. "Ahah!", Griffon laughed and smashed against one of the demons, making sure to avoid your arm as you still tried to hold your ground. For a human you didn't do so bad. It could be better, but considering that you were a mere mortal in that mess of this city this was outstanding. With the help of Shadow and Griffon it did not take long and the fight was over, your breathing uneven and fast as the adrenaline still rushed through your veins. You nearly dropped your weapon of choice as Griffon sat on top of it, eying you closely.

"So Missy, why aren't you out of this city?", the bird asked and you seemed unfazed by the fact that there was a speaking bird. But if there were armies of demons attacking a city - a speaking bird should be the least of your worries. "No time." you panted and tried to brush some of your hair back but only made it worse. Ah right, the blood. "Perhaps you should leave now, while you can.", the young man suggested and you turned to the raspy voice, eyes staring at him.

"Your bird...is speaking, Sir.", was the reply you gave him as the said bird landed on his outstretched inked arm. For a while he held your stare, before the corner of his lips twitched up into a smile. "That he does indeed.", the bird ruffled his feathers and tried to present himself proudly. But you barely watched the bird, trying to flex your fingers and try to get a solid grip around the pipe again.

"But it would be best if you take your leave as soon as possible. We can offer you an escort, if you wish.", the man insisted while the bird complained that they had no time for that. But the man just assured the strange coloured avian that it was fine and you breathed through. "I am capable of taking care of myself, I am sure you have something else to do..", a polite decline but your muscles were sore and the cuts needed to be tended to. If there was a spot that wasn't close to falling apart you actully could take a minute. Running water would be great. And bandages. Maybe you should have thanked them. But your mood was as low as it could get. These insects were disgusting. And bug spray did not exactly help. A rusty old pipe wasn't working that well either.. "Let's go V! Missy doesn't need any help and the boy's waiting for us."

You wanted to wave them goodbye, wishing them a safe journey. You wanted to assure them that you could manage. But the ground started to shake and rumble below your feet, the street tipping to the side as another root made it's way to the surface -looking for another source of blood to feed the Tree. But while Griffon pulled V out of danger, you weren't so fast. The fair skinned man turned around as soon as he had solid ground below his feet again, risking a look to see if you made it as well."Oh shit, V. Guess that's it for her." Your upper body was pierced by one of the roots, the bloody tip facing downwards, your life essence slowly dripping down the plant. The impact left no air in your lungs to scream as there just was the shock and pain. The pipe creating a clattering sound as you let go of the weapon, closing your hands around the sharp end of the root as you tried to pull yourself from the pointy end, desperatlly forcing your muscles to make it work. No, you were not done yet. There was no fucking way that you would be stuck on a root and bleed out, No. Fucking. Way. V and his familiars moved again, hurrying to find the source of the root and destroy it. Even if Griffon was pretty sure that you wouldn't survive this. No one would survive that, humans dried out in no time and fed the Qlipoth by that.

"Slice them." Shadow moved quickly through the horde of monsters, Griffon cackling as he unleashed his power upon the enemies. You didn't know where they went but after a felt eternity, you lost your balance as the root dissolved and released your body. Coughing and spitting out blood you sank on your knees, watching the blood pool around you. The taste on your tongue was sweet and coppery, your breathing uneven. "Shit.", you cursed and blinked desperately to keepy our eyes open. You were well aware that if you closed your eyes now it would take long to open them up again. It was getting so cold. So dark. So painful. Slumping to the side you felt blood plastering your skin, starting to dry as you slowly drifted off. You couldn't give up now. There was so much that you needed to do. So much that you wanted to get done. You were going to be fine. Not. But there was not a minute that you could waste on that thought. You couldn't give in. Death was not a option.

"Ey, Shakespeare! She is still breathing!" A warm hand gently moved your chin to the side and your eyes fluttered open once again. Dark green eyes looking down at you. Was there the hint of a smile? Indeed. "Don't worry." What a gentle voice. Maybe it did sound a little different. Maybe just now, maybe it was something familiar... It was hard to tell with the drumming in your head. And while you felt incredibly light and comfortable right now, there was something that just seemed wrong. You didn't notice how the old phone in the distance was used to call for a Van that would pick you up, as he had more..pressing matters to follow. But there was something calming in his voice, as he nearly promised you that you would be fine. And while he waited, sitting right next to you Shadow curled around your form kept you warm company. V pulled the book from his jacked and started to read for you. Voice soft and melodic it was absolutely calming to listen. Neither V or Griffon knew if you would survive this and In case you would loose your life here, he at least stayed by your side  reading  poetry to you. Sometimes, even if only for a short moment of being wake you thought that he sounded as if he was sorry. But then there was the melodic tone again, enevloping you like a blanket, helping you to drift into so much better moments. Now and then a breeze graced your skin, whenever Griffn circled around to check for the Van or your state. What was it now, that made you cling to your life? It was your goal. Your memory, your dream.

"Seems like she doesn't want to die. Reminds me of someone. huh.", You wanted to return something, but your lips didn't move as you wanted to and your tongue was heavy. Your entire body was sluggish and unable to follow even the easiest command. At least somtimes you managed to move the thumb of yours. Just a bit forth and back, trying to focus on the nerves to not loose consciouness. That at least was a battle that you managed to win - no matter how much this man was reading to you. Another felt eternity passed and then even you could hear the sound of brakes, a car that rushed over the broken street and just came to a stop mere centimeters away from you. You would have been unable to move anyway. But that V at least hadn't seemed worried about that part. The sound of the cane retuned and stopped just right next to you.

"It does seem like she can make it." Did he sound relieved? It was so hard to tell right now. "Yo, chickee- out of my way!" Once again you felt even lighter than before, noticing the scent of cold smoke that now surrounded you like a cloud. Your feet bumped against a wall as you got carried somewhere, hearing a woman swear over and over again. At least she didn't try to make it worse, considering the state you were in anyway. "No peeking!" The arms that held you before awkwardly let go of you as you were placed on some sort of bench, your head hitting the rest for the back with a dull sound. And there was another curse from the woman as she tried to have a look at your wounds.

"This Lady had been hella lucky," Your forehead started to burn as something was applied on your cut, followed by a gauze. Same for your arms and legs. Tiredly you groaned and forced your eyes open, it took a good while to focus on something. The room was filled in a big cloud of smoke and the lightning was everything but good for the eyes. But it didn't take long and you noticed at least where you were. Inside a car: a van.  And the woman you looked at seemed friendly. Or surprised that you woke up so soon and stared at her. "Mornin' Sweety. You should take a good nap and I'll drive that Van to the border of tRed Grave, Here's no place for ya."

As much as you wanted to insist, a blanket was laid over you, carefully tucked into your side and it was so heavy and warm.. You didn't have an interest in fighting back anymore. It was so warm and cozy and the pain slowly faded. Still you noticed the constant chatter between the woman and the bird. Now and then the voice of the man breaking through the silence. But you weren't surprised that it was not quiet for long. The door to the Van got closed, a lighter was used and then the engine of the car started to howl. It didn't matter that you were supposed to sleep, your mind tried very hard to stay awake. And in the end, you lost. The next time you woke up, the car was no longer making a milkshake out of you. You felt much better than before. The pounding in your head was gone and the pain in your chest as well. Your skin itched caused by all the dried blood.

"Ey, sleeping beauty is awake!" You slowly tried to sit up, only to be hit with a towel right in your face. "take a shower, sweetie. Just go to the back of the Van." The woman introduced herself as Nico, before she started to fiddle around with a box. Besides the towel she also handed you bandages and some clothing that was not your size but at least it covered more of your skin, that what you were still wearing right now. "Thanks..", you muttered, overloaded with all the stuff that was given to you and bumped your head on a cabinet as you tried to get up. Oh great. The bird started to laugh with a cackling sound and you just growled weakly while squeezing yourself through the Van. Shower..Shower. Ah! Hidden behind that corner. It took a while to arrange yourself, telling the bird to not even dare to peek. V - apparently the guy that had saved you, didn't seem to be type to do something immodest. But the Bird.. Tsk. Stripping out of your clothes you stepped inside the shower, playing around  with the handles to adjust the temperature of the water. While trying to find the perfect setting for yourself, you took of the bloody bandages. The skin underneath was mostly smooth, the tissue of the your skin had been knitting itself together pretty fast. Only a few old scars showed up on your arms, legs and between your shoulder blades. The only scars that you still could feel.. But at least you managed to keep them out of the sight of strangers, so no one dared to ask.

Finally bare you used the water, working your hair with something that was supposed to be shampoo. But it took nearly forever to even get the all dirt out of your hair. The water remained red for a good while, just slowly turning lighter as the water turned cold. Leaning your forehead against the wall you breathed through, allowing the cold water to run over your back, the steady feeling of water drumming on your skin was able to comfort you. You couldn't even remember when you had your last shower. It didn't matter if the water was warm or cold. You just wanted to feel clean, wash all the gore and blood away. You could not stay here forever. Even if the thought was temping, so you hurried to clean yourself up as fast as possible and picked  the towel to rub yourself dry. This probably had been the best shower you ever had taken. Or at least in the last few weeks. Reaching outside to grab the clothes you stared at the bird and the bird stared right back at you.  Was that thing serious? Throwing the blanket at that thing you cursed it, promising it to make some soup out of it as you harshly grabbed the clothes and slammed the cabin of the shower again. Empusa? No problem. But a Demon Bird that had been waiting infront of the shower for you to finish?

Creepy as fuck. With damp hair and dressed you made your way outside and crossed your arms in front of your chest., judging the avian with a look, that made him flee with a screeching sound and landing on the shoulder of his master. "Whass' up, Missy? Afraid to join us?" Well, that didn't work as planned..You certainly wouldn't tell the bird that an apology was in order.. Instead you turned your attention towards the woman at the drivers seat and smiled grateful.

"Thanks for the shower..and the clothes. I will return that kindness to you." "It's fine, Miss. Got the boy to pay for me, ain't that right, V?" The man just huffed and agreed quietly, but didn't look up from his book. He simply turned the page and hit the demonic bird with the length of the cane to stop him from doing more nonsense. Or you really would make some soup out of him. Nico took a pull from her cigarette and leaned over her seat as she eyed you while puffing out some smoke.

You hated the smell, but she had cared for your and still planned to drop you off at the border of the city. As if there was a way for you to leave this place. You weren't done yet. No. The new Demon King needed to be stopped. And there still were people out there that could be saved. And you were able to protect yourself... Just not like this, "Lookin' much better without all the blood.", Nico hummed and eyed you really closely. Did she notice? The eyes behind the round glasses were sharp, but if there was something your host saw, Nico didn't mouth it all.

"And your overall state seems to be fine. You recoverd fast,", the mysterious man mused and you knew that you had to think of a story about that really, really quick. Unless they let the topic drop. By the looks of it he had a contract with demons. That you could see clearly.. But desperate times...

You shook of that thought and turned back to Nico who just inhaled deeply to start talking. "We'll move on tomorrow. If ya want, take a walk outside. V needs to clear the street for me." "Why don't you do that yourself?", the Bird asked and ducked as Nico threw some packaging at the Bird, who simply dissolved into ink and got absorbed by V's body, the small box meeting black hair. He didn't look all to happy with that situation, but you decided to indeed take a walk outside and leave them alone with the discussion.

It was darker than before, cloudy and even a bit chilly. The Van was rusty and severally damaged, now that you actually had a chance to have a look at it.

With a sigh you tried to fix the pants that you were given. Loose fit at least.. But maybe you needed a belt for them soon. Unlike the Van, the air smelled like rain. You couldn't help but inhale deeply. It certainly wasn't smart to get out with damp hair, but a cold in times like these couldn't be worse than demons and Trees from the Underworld. The street the Van was parked in was meant for one way only and there were some roots in the way, ah - the ones V had to get out of the way.You wondered how far...Oh. Nevermind, you could see the tree from here. A few fragile buildings left and right, cracked ground and so many inncoents that were dried out and leaving only shells behind. The bodies would dissolve fast enough and there was nothing you could do. Only keep the fallen in your memories. How many families were ripped arpart? If the Gates of Heaven would open for the victims?

Walking around the Van you hummed a familiar tune, until you were interrupted by a cloud of black ink, slowly building itself into that bird from before. "So..Miss.", you leaned against the Van and looked up to the Demon, his wings nearly hitting your face as he started to fly in front of you. "What is it, chicken?" "You're not human, are ya?" Raising a brow you crossed your arm in front of your chest and looked up to the bird. "What makes you think so?", was the only reply he would get. Griffon cackled and sat on top of the Van, ruffling his feathers proudly. "Your not dry like a raisin", he squeaked and used his beak to hit your head. As if to play 'Knock-Knock' .. Did his master not know about that birds own mind?

"It runs in the family." I was not even a lie. Just not the entire truth. But there was no reason to explain yourself to a Demon. "Nah, Nah. Not good enough, you hear me? You might fool the others, but you can't follow a Demon. Not the mighty Griffon!" That saved you the introduction. Griffon.. Didn't ring a bell in your head. Leaving the spot at the Van you took a few steps and turned around to face the avian, the hint of a smirk on your lips. "Smart little bird. But does it matter? There are more important matters to focus on." He cackled and there was electricity in the air, his position towards you didn't seem to be friendly at all. "Need to know if you cause any problems for V. So?" His eyes focused you and something was shifting in the air. Demons. "Listen, Demon.. We wish for the same. And now get your master, things are getting ugly."

The street indeed filled with all the nasties, you were unable to count the amount of demons, but thankfully V was leaving the van and regarded you only with a look, telling you to stay inside. "You just recovered, it might be best...to sit this battle out." "Don't worry..V. - I shall be fine." "You can't be serious, now Ihe two watch you both?! I'm not getting paid enough for this shit!" This time you smirked for real, but didn't even plan to go back inside. That bird was right. But thankfully he didn't know about your origin or the abilities that lurked deep within you. There was more to this world than just Devils and Demons.

It was time to bring back the light to this city.

[cyprian-apparition]

A Matter of Time

In Which a Lost Pup is Found!

Summary: It wasn’t often that he was given a gift from Gahalla Themself, but really? This could prove more difficult than necessary, and he should have taken Soliac back himself when he first saw his child was taken instead of talking to his captur. Now she knows things she shouldn’t and will make his job ten times harder if people know more time magic can be learned. Perhaps it’s too late to take his child back, but it’s never too late to be there for Soliac. It would be risky, but perhaps befriending a few people could be beneficial for everyone.

^V^V^

It shouldn’t have been this easy to break into the labs of who he considered his enemy. Of course, that is only a childish way to think about it as he doubted Lylin was even aware he existed, and if he did, he surely wouldn’t care about it. However, as a time master, he was rather adept at getting into places he shouldn’t. Now, suppose he should take care of the raging Originalities hiding in the lab’s equivalent of a basement, but right now, something more important to him needs to be taken care of than getting rid of some inter-dimensional heathens.

He pushes open the door covered in happy looking stickers and smiles softly at the pile of fur in the corner of the room. At least he has someone to look up to that looks and at like him. Not only that but soon he will have a couple of siblings to play with. That is if Azzalee didn't claim him. She just might claim power over Gahalla’s creation.

He had tried to talk to her about giving the child back, as he was the one who was supposed to find and take care of the child, she played a childish game of ‘finders keepers,’ and now he couldn’t intervene in the child’s life lest he influences the future himself. That is if he cared enough about the rules when it came to the little anomaly.

The room is rather cheerful and well suited for a puppy, and he feels a sense of calm despite the chaotic décor. He slowly walks over to the pile of fluff and looms over the trio to see a small white ball of fluff that oddly resembles his chiate fur. Of course, he isn't all too surprised as he did help form the young pooch. His white fur is a stark contrast to the brown and gray of his adopted parents. His signature smile grows to one more genuine, and he lets his chiate lean down to see the newborn puppy closer, a bit giddy to see the blue tint in the baby’s fur. He looks just like his chiate form. A bit of warmth fills him as he carefully reaches his claw in between the parents to pet the short-haired, shaggy pup. Once his claw touches the pup’s side, the puppy lets out a wide, high-pitched yawn. This startles him, and his chiate head pulls back in surprise.

He had long since stopped time, so to see the young pup moving is a surprise indeed. Maybe he was pulled out of the timeline without his knowledge, but he supposes it makes sense, as the pup is an anomaly, and they wouldn’t want multiple of this pup running around. He didn’t even have a name yet.

His smile falls back his usual one, and he pulls back his claw. He had already messed up his job as the guardian of the pup, and now the kid is mesmrized. He stares down at the pup blankly. It would be so easy to swipe him. To take him back and raise him as it should have been, but looking over the consequences of his actions, it would do nothing but cause heartache for the adopted parents, and they would be good for him.

Still, he should at least be there in the pup’s life somehow.

Musing quietly, he reaches back into the pile of fluff and a blue-collar appears around the newborn’s neck. It glistens with small gems and an hourglass charm along with a tiny dog tag. It jingles and the hourglass tick soothingly as grains seem to fall bit by bit, and the pup starts to whimper in his sleep before he wakes up and starts to sniff about. The pup still has not opened his eyes, so he keeps his claw where it can be sniffed. The pup whimpers again, and, to calm the pup, he starts to pet him with a single claw. It seems to calm the pup, and he soon curls up against his mother again and falls back to sleep after searching for food.

“Look at you, Soliac,” he whispers, “you’re in this world for one day, and you already charmed a whole family. I can’t be here for you like I want to, but you'll be loved by all you meet, even if you might stray from your path, the ones you love most will guide you back.”

He smiles softly and steps back before bowing. “As for myself, I’ll watch over you as your guardian. I can’t be as active as I wish, but I will be here for you.”

A moment later, time resumes, and he is gone, leaving behind a sparkle of blue.

Soliac, however, raises his head again with a bit of difficulty and lets out a series of soft awoo’s, already missing the warmth that was there previously. Mama and daddy quickly fill the need, but he whimpers as he slowly falls asleep at the cooings of his mama. Maybe the warmth will come back soon.

Mama ruffs softly and fingers the sudden collar and the tag. “When..? Soliac? Where did you get this?” She doesn’t feel as panicked as she should, as the collar gives off a sense of warmth and protection. “Soliac it is,” she whispers as she watches the puppy slumber peacefully.

[undisonae]

TOLKIEN || tagged v: a softness came from starlight

“i laughed today. / for a second i was unhaunted. i was the sun, not light / from some dead star.”

                             ( via )

NOTE The timeline on this setting is wide open and adapts to the primary setting of your Tolkien muse or whatever we plot!

TL;DR  A fallen star sparked from creation willed herself to personify and is lifted from the sea by the sun. She is a benevolent, playful spirit of hope and joy that’s wandered Middle earth since the end of the Second Age.

     THERE IS MAGIC in the earth, and with it, life. Every living thing, whether it has a beating heart or is but a blade of grass, carries with it immeasurable energy.  A magic that is celebrated by men and hobbits, shaped by the dwarves in their great craft halls, and mastered by elves. Is it such great surprise that this magic, great and wondrous as it is, would spark into something more? Into someone?

Her first memories are of the Seven Fathers, of those very first Dwarves created deep in the earth and slumbered until the Children of Ilúvatar took shape. This shapeless creature of light watched with AWE the waking of the First Born. From the stars she watched these elves shape their own worlds. Their lives, their culture. For an age she lived among the stars to gaze lovingly upon the world’s firstborns.

     O’, but the world had just begun! When the sun first rose so did this light in the night sky fall into the sea. The moon pushed and pulled her and when the sun would set her siblings, the stars, would relay the world’s ever growing wonders as their reflections joined in the sea. Most wonderfully they spoke of the Second Born, of a mortal and finite peoples who took JOY in their fleeting existences! Every night they would speak to their sister that had fallen into the sea and every dawn they would leave with the sun’s approach.

Millennia pass and this cycle, though bearable, is far from satisfying. For the First Age this nameless spark watched, for half of the Second Age she listened, but it was a LONELY existence. This creature, once a star and now part of the sea, craved more.

     And so as the sea kissed the shore she asked it to shape her a form. To sculpt her body from clay and shells into a form that could be received by man and elf alike. She craved LIFE. For all its joy, all its suffering. She wanted to laugh and breathe, to love! And be loved in turn! Millennia more pass and finally as the sun rises it lifts this child of sea and sky to the shore.

She is ADHLEA, The First Light of Dawn.

     If there was ever joy and hope in a mortal form it was she. Though an ageless creature born from sea and stars she took her first mortal breaths as a child. She was, by all accounts, flesh and blood. Thick black hair is split by delicate pointed ears, her two arms and two legs ended in ten digits. Two lovely dark eyes carried star shine in them from her life in the sky and always, no matter how far she wandered, did she carry the scent of sea air.

AND HOW FAR SHE WANDERS, with her two legs to carry her! For hundreds of years she is but a child. A playful spirit innocent to the fouler workings of mortality. Travelers that encounter her are baffled to find an “elf” child alone in whatever wilderness of the world she places herself in. Those fair of heart have illnesses lifted and spirits calmed in her presence. And for those who would mean ill? PITY to their rotted soul!

     As she travels, she learns, and though it takes millennia slowly does she age. From playful child, to reckless adolescent, and at the beginning of the Third Age: a woman of wisdom. Adhlea still travels far and wide in the body she crafted so long ago. Through wars, famines, and all the cruelties of mortality she endures as the personification of HOPE. For she is a child of the sea, fathered by the sun and kept company by her siblings, the stars, and mortality is all she ever wanted.

NAME: Adhlea ALT. NAMES: Dawn, First Light, Hope AGE: Undefinable RACE: Undefinable, could be perceived as Elf by anyone that’s not an elf POWERS: Adhlea’s magic is that of will. Given time, she can bend a great many energies to do as she pleases such as healing the injured, making flowers bloom, carrying messages on the wind, etc

[onceuponatimewasnow-blog]

Virtual World Radio Exclusive Interview, July, 02 (2002)

Armed with a violin, brilliant imagery, powerful lyrics, and sheer girl-power, Emilie Autumn has already become a fixture at college radio. Now, she's set to conquer the Internet. And she's got some tough words for the RIAA.

Emilie Autumn: Absolutely Enchanted She's played everything from the great concert halls of Europe, to initimate rock venues in the Midwest. Now, Emilie Autumn is set to conquer Internet radio with her unique brand of Fantasy Rock.

Emilie Autumn. Powerful lyrical imagery, a violin....and wings...

Richly talented, multifaceted, innovative, eclectic and unconventional - singer, songwriter, producer, pianist, and world class violinist Emilie Autumn is that rarest of musical breeds...a true original. This is a singer with the power to change the world of rock music as we know it. Whether she is writing and performing original songs that bring together an extraordinary mix of sounds and styles; performing concerts in the great classical music halls of Europe and the US; or bringing down the house with her own electrifying violin rock creations, 21-year-old Emilie Autumn makes music that defies categories, breaks down barriers and builds a bridge to a new era of music with a truly globe-spanning soundAs a classically trained violinist, Emilie revolutionizes her instrument by playing her electric violin live a la Jimi Hendrix, meanwhile belting out her girl-power anthem, “Chambermaid,” during her highly theatrical stage shows. The result is sexy, surprising, and even controversial. You've likely already heard Chambermaid on V-Mix. Emilie talks about the story behind the track, playing concert halls in Europe, and why she chose her own route as an independent artist. VW: You manage to successfully blend a unique array of sounds and styles in your music, much of which you would never believe you could put together in a rock song. Yet, you’ve done it. Since your sound doesn't seem to conform to the standard format tags, how would you describe it?

EA: It’s true that there’s too much variety within my music (and a lot of other music for that matter) to categorize it in any one genre, but for general radio usage, we like to say its Adult Alternative, whatever that means these days. I call my music “Fantasy Rock,” but I don’t think there’s a format for that yet.

VW: Chambermaid is an incredibly powerful track, and uses lots of imagery to tell its story. Is this from personal experience? What’s the story behind it?

EA: Firstly, thank you very much. “Chambermaid” is one of those muses that just flies in the window, grabs you by the throat with her claws, and says, “Feel that? Well, pass it on.” She’s a good girl in a bad world, and she finally got pissed off enough to through the death card in some guy’s face. The details of the story are not from personal experience, but the sentiment is. In the song, this woman gets tired of being pushed around by her lover, so she throws him into the moat and closes the drawbridge. She also wears camouflage corsets to dinner, so I guess that part is me...

VW: You’re one of the few artists that have not only embraced Internet radio, but have successfully harnessed its potential power. What do you think the future of the medium is, and as an artist, how would you like to see it evolve?

EA: Sadly, internet radio is undergoing some really tough times as a result of the latest fines imposed upon it. I think that, three years from now, we will look back on this era as one of the most ridiculous times in music. I mean, the vast majority of mainstream music takes “shit” to a whole new level. The major labels, after experiencing some financial losses in the past year, are petrified by the wrath of their shareholders and will accuse anyone in order to get out of the hot seat themselves. Of course, the RIAA exists solely to support and protect the major labels, so their conniving blather is to be expected. It’s all about control. The majors could capitalize on the advance of the internet (radio, downloads, etc.) and turn the new diversity offered to listeners into increased cash flow, but they can’t have that because, despite their potential gains, they would then be losing the absolute control of the public ear. When people have the opportunity to expose themselves to a larger variety of music than mainstream radio offers (via internet radio programming and various file sharing services), they will not buy less music, they will buy more, but their tastes will also not be as easily dictated, predicted, and manipulated, resulting in loss of marketing control for the labels. They can’t operate in a system where they can’t predict what will be successful. It’s what their whole empire depends upon, and the moment you introduce that question mark into the equation, they’re running around like decapitated chickens, accusing everyone with a modem of thievery. Ultimately, every single artist on, or affiliated with, a major label, is a pawn on the chessboard of global society. I’m not saying all artists on major labels are rubbish, because that isn’t true; some artists happened to get their break on major labels, and have gone on to produce quality music. Still, their releases are coordinated by the label to suit the label, their media is orchestrated by the label to suit the label, even (and especially) their controversies are hatched by the label to suit the label, and their ultimate purpose is to control what you hear, what you see, what you think, so that they can go to their shareholders and say, “We guarantee that this will sell, we guarantee that next year this will sell, we guarantee that the year after that this will sell, and because we dictate public taste through our omnipotent control of ALL media (which everyone knows is the most powerful entity in the world), we will never fail.” That’s what shareholders want to hear, and that’s what the majors are going to tell them, at the expense of internet radio, independent media, independent artists, artistic creation of any kind, and ultimately, YOUR freedom. Fight like hell. VW: You’ve been touring the Midwest quite a bit recently. Any Mid-Atlantic tour plans in the works?

EA: I’m actually contemplated touring schedules as we speak, and I’d love to expand my normal touring regions into the Mid-Atlantic and beyond. I think it’s about time.

VW: Who, if anyone, inspired you to become the incredibly diverse musician that you are today?

EA: I don’t believe I can point to any one or two musicians in whose footsteps I have followed, though I am certainly an admirer of many. I’ve gleaned inspiration from a handful of artists that came before me and combined what I learned with my own claustrophobia when it comes to being boxed in to a certain mindset, a certain category. I’m inspired by the strength and gorgeous female power of Annie Lennox. I’m humbled by the songwriting craftsmanship of Sting. I’m intoxicated by the unnaturally beautiful voice of Morrissey, and I learned how to play the violin more from the albums of Nigel Kennedy than from my master teachers. Put that and a pinch of Jimi Hendrix, David Bowie, Etta James, Eric Clapton, Hildegard von Bingen, and a Celtic reel all together in a snow globe filled with glitter, shake it up, and smash it against a wall. Add wings, and you have me.

VW: Which artists do you enjoy listening to now?

EA: Anything I can illegally download. Just kidding. I listen to the old as much as the new, so my iTunes playlist is populated by a combination of Vivaldi (Fabio Biondi doing “The Four Seasons”), Erasure (I’m covering “Love To Hate You”), The Smiths (“The Queen Is Dead”), and the new Moby album.

VW: You’ve played everything from small intimate clubs, to some of the great concert halls of the United States and Europe. Which do you prefer, and why?

EA: Both types of venues have their charms as well as drawbacks. In concert halls, you have the honor inherent in playing such beautiful venues, and you get to play music that would never fly in a rock club, for example, Barber’s Violin Concerto with full orchestra. The drawback is that you have the distinct feeling that you are not reaching the whole of society, but only those that can afford season tickets to the opera. I respect those people for helping to keep high art alive, but they are not the only people that count. In rock clubs, the nice ones anyway, you get to be wild and loud and shocking, and you feel like you are actively changing the outlook of the people you’re playing for. The drawback is that, at least when you play the violin, you have to convince people that they’re in the right place. VW: In terms of songwriting, at what moments do you find yourself most inspired?

EA: I find that, unlike a lot of musicians I’ve read about, I am most creative when I’m actually nearing happy. Only then do I have the proper distance from a sad or difficult situation to actually write intelligently about it. The only exception to this was in the case of “By The Sword,” which was composed and recorded on 9/11/01. In general, I think what makes a real songwriter is the ability to transpose oneself into an infinite number of dimensions and record accurately and with elegance what one experiences. I’ve purposely developed my mind so that I can float from one world to the next, constantly gathering seeds, and then arrive back home to plant them, usually inexplicably dressed with one striped sock on and a “My Little Pony” T-shirt I didn’t know I had. It’s nothing more than advanced daydreaming.

VW: You’ve been pursued by major labels, but chose to follow your own career path. Why did you decline major label backing, and have you ever regretted the decision?

EA: I’ve actually worked with major labels in the past, which is why I feel somewhat qualified to criticize them so harshly. I was first courted by a major in my teens and spent a summer locked in a studio, writing songs that were promptly torn apart by the producers, a team of fat, rich, Europeans who thought it was fine to slap my ass. I wrote “Rapunzel” (from the upcoming album “Enchant”) at that time, but it was rejected because they said that “Rapunzal” was an ugly word, that no one knew who it was anyway, and that it would never go over well in Japan. They hated “Chambermaid” because it was supposedly about “lords and ladies.” I was told to stop introducing my fiddle into my songs because they said that the general public was intimidated by anything that remotely reminded them of “classical” music. I was told that I had to add more words like “love” and “baby” to my songs because “that’s what people want,” and again, so that it would do well in Japan (their theory was that those are the only words that the Japanese would understand, and you have to give them something to sing along to). I was told to get a tan and cut my hair so that I would resemble the average fashion model as opposed to something more exotic. When I questioned the system, I was told that if I did not comply, I would never be able to buy my mother a house. When I complained, I was told to shut up because I was embarrassing them in front of their backers. Bearing in mind that this particular brand of hell is the norm, not the exception, who in their right mind would regret any decision that enabled them NOT to work with people like this?

VW: What do you most hope to accomplish?

EA: Everything.

[skylania-hesperia]

Tag dump in tags and below the cut for easy reading

#( v: been walkin' my whole life ) #( v: master ) #( v: tbd ) #( confide in me was your heart | ask ) #( every song is a life span | playlist ) #( they smiled real wide for the camera lenses | self ) #( she's only here to entertain | crack ) #( I was so blind but now I clearly see | musings ) #( I swear I'll put you back together | headcanon ) #( they're here | ooc ) #( nice work you did | aesthetic ) #( I found something that makes me feel alive | meme ) #( when all is done there is nothing to say | save ) #( you wanted it to be picture perfect | photos ) #( everything's about to change | wishlist ) #( with the power of creation | self promo ) #( we stand shoulder to shoulder | promo ) #( somehow I'm still here to explain | psa ) #( I think it looked a little better on me | closet ) #( I feel you creepin' up again | dash commentary ) #( just turn around | mun meme ) #( light up the sky | star sign - aries ) #( I know I'm hangin' but I'm still wantin' you | starter call ) #( as my breath grows still and shallow | muse's death ) #( it doesn't have to be friend | interactions )

[bruiisedpetals-a]

𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑦 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑠 ... vik redwyne, aeron targaryen, errick farman, wulffryd goodbrother, däthedr xo joraq & branden stark ... as assorted text posts.

[bruiisedpetals-a]

𝑡𝑖𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑎, 𝑑𝑎̈𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑑𝑟 𝑥𝑜 𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑞, 𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑓𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑛 + 𝑣𝑖𝑘 𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑤𝑦𝑛𝑒 as aggressive text posts..

[bruiisedpetals-a]

my bisexual characters as types

the raging demon!time bisexual: regnarra drumm the quietly minding their own business but ofc i am bisexual: vida waters the *suddenly shrugs* oh ig i've always been this way bisexual: däthedr xo joraq the "mr. steal yo girl" bisexual: tiathia + the after a few drinks & if you match my energy bi-curious: wulffryd goodbrother + the "oh god women make me panic is this normal?" confused bi-romantic: lia flowers

[bruiisedpetals-a]

𝐍  →  𝐒.      a visual map ; generally speaking the locations indicate where they were born or spent the majority of their life living.

NORTH. winterfell — branden stark

IRON ISLANDS. old wyk  —  regnarra drumm & wulffrd goodbrother

WESTERLANDS.  gold road  —  vida waters              *raised, born at driftmark.

CROWNLANDS.   kings landing   —  errick farman & aeron targaryen

THE REACH.  red lake  —  lia flowers    +    the arbor  —  vik redwyne

ESSOS.   yunkai   —  tiathia              *born, fled to kings landing.

SUMMER ISLES.   sweet lotus vale   —  däthedr xo joraq

[bruiisedpetals-a]

𝐇𝐎𝐖   𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄   𝐀𝐑𝐄   𝐘𝐎𝐔?   [..]

vida: 30%   branden: 10%    lia: 75%    errick: 75%     tiathia: 50%     aeron: 65% wulffryd: 75%     regnarra: otherworldly     vik: 10,000%     däthedr: 65%