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simplegenius042 · 28 days

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Late OCs as Horror Themes/Tropes, Ships as Tarot Cards, and 15 Lines or Less Tag

Tagged by @nightbloodbix @aceghosts @inafieldofdaisies @voidika @direwombat and @g0dspeeed

Tagging @socially-awkward-skeleton @softtidesworld @strafethesesinners @strangefable @adelaidedrubman @wrathfulrook @corvosattano @cassietrn @derelictheretic @shellibisshe @florbelles @cloudofbutterflies92 @starsandskies @onehornedbeast @josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather @afarcryfrommymain @megraen @turbo-virgins @minilev @carlosoliveiraa @shallow-gravy @titiagls @thewanderer-000 @snake-in-the-garden @purplehairsecretlair @chazz-anova @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @skoll-sun-eater @yokobai @bitchofedensgate @deputyash @ec-10 @foofygoldfish @gaeadene @henbased @vampireninjabunnies-blog and @trashcatsnark

You can find the OCs as Horror Themes/Tropes quiz here and the Ships as Tarot Cards quiz here. One OC for the first quiz, Two Ships for the second quiz, and three OCs for five lines each for the 15. The results and lines are below the cut:

DISCORD, THE MAD KIN OF CARNAGE (A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore and the Unnamed Original Works Trilogy)

Discord was a second-generation reality bender (or more commonly known as "Kin"), and one of the most devastatingly powerful as well. His very presence was capable of reverting anything and everything around him back to its basic essential form/s (until it became rusted, rotten, and/or dust and eventually nothing at all). Had technically been killed during the Extermination Purge War, however, Arcane Urias' Chapter of the Occult, a group of warlocks, liches and dark magic users that aimed to preserve ancient magic (regardless if it was forbidden or destructive) and bring back the Old Kin (which mostly consist of the extinct first, second and third generations, as well as some fourth) to rule over the Multiverse once again, had found a way to bring back Discord, in a universe where Earth had been ravaged by nuclear war. NOTE: This result kind of describes how Discord's second death more-or-less is like.

THE BAPTIST AND THE QUOKKA [JOHN SEED X NADI SINCLAIR] (Far Cry The Silver Chronicles)

While Nadi and John have this "loyally serving the other while yearning for each others love but beating around the bush due to bad timings and stuff and still caring and possessive of the other to an obsessively unhealthy degree"... I will have to say that Nadi's affection isn't John's only priority; Joseph and his family plus the project is John's focus and is probably what he would choose over Nadi. Nadi though views John as the person who gave her something to believe in again, to put her skill and faith in (especially after losing faith in the military and governments after the events of Call To Arms), so to her, Eden's Gate' faith is personified by John. But if either lose each one another, it will greatly impact the other's life.

HAOYU ANABUKI X ICARUS GALATOS (Life, Despair & Monsters)

Ah yes, another main LGBTQ+ couple I made to add to my collection alongside Sonya and Jennifer. Haoyu (Non-Binary, 25) and Icarus (Male, 23) fit each other well. At first both thought the other was a jerk. However, both got to know each other, related about their experiences with distant, long-lost and/or found family (Haoyu with their father, mother and Monika plus the Literature Club, and Icarus with his parents, siblings, alters and the Dupain-Cheng Family), coming to terms with their personal lives (Haoyu with their ability to open portals and travel through reality breaches, and Icarus plus his alters with the ability to switch dimensions with this magic fungus dude named Hatter whom one of the alters had eaten inadvertently on a dare), as well as near-death experiences (Haoyu with the Ruins of the Midnight Rise, and Icarus with Evermond Scowlzka trying to dissect him and his alters to get Hatter) plus their encounters with Sir Enigma Malvolio (Haoyu is Malvolio's foil and therefore targeted as a rival, and Icarus, while never meeting Malvolio until much later, had seen the aftereffects of Malvolio putting the essence of the Court King into a close friend of his, Marinette Dupain-Cheng). They also manage to work through each other's flaws; Icarus was reserved and arrogant but self-sacrificing (hence the requirement for his alters, Hatsukami Hinode and Xavier Tulip), and Haoyu was bold and selfish yet unambitious. Icarus teaches Haoyu how to be driven, pointing them towards a goal beneficial to not only them, but everyone, while Haoyu taught Icarus how to listen and take care of himself more, as well as be open-minded. Wherever they end up after the fight with the Ruins of the Midnight Rise, know that they're both at least together.

15 LINES, 5 EACH FOR 3 OCS IN THE UNTITLEDVERSE

Calvin Darling (The Perfect Storm saga)

"Ah, back in this shit again?" He grumbles, getting up.

"Haven't you learned by now? "Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before the fall"," Calvin quoted, "Try to checkmate that, you pompous dick."

"I need a drink," Calvin pauses, reminding himself of another task, "But first I shall pray."

"Mario! I'm a cartoonist, not a mechanic."

"...I'm simultaneously impressed by how smart you can be but also disappointed in how stupid you are."

Rick Thompson (The Omniscience Rule saga and The Ender saga)

6. "I don't remember hunting down clowns to be part of the initiative...?" 7. "My dream came true Ma... I am IN a Musical." 8. "Ms Darling, if I may compliment outside of regulations, you're stunning beauty is increased tenfold by the stellar addition of grime and demons blood." 9. "I may be an agent, but I'm no where near professional." 10. "Ian Graveheart is the kind of man Pa described as the worst combination you can give a loaded weapon without safety on... legs and batshit insanity."

Urijah Calaghan (The UnTitled Stories (from The Omniscience Rule saga) and The UnTitled Ventures saga)

11. "You don't matter. Nothing matters. Nothing except this mission." 12. "How cruel are our lives where we must live out a path hostile to our treading feet as the unknown entities above and beyond mock and degrade us? And what fate awaits us then? Release? Freedom? Death? A second round for your soul to enter the world again and go right back into the cosmic mechanism that grinds us down again and again and again like a broken carousel? Or a decrepit record stuck spinning on the same tune? But that's only if you're lucky enough to die." 13. "My mission is to release us, painlessly and mercifully, from the one who holds onto us; the Hand at Fate's Table, one abhorrently callous and cruel enough to take pleasure in the suffering he puts us through." 14. "You must find this tiring. For a man to commit himself against an endless stream of challenges for what is ultimately a short speck of time in our universes must come at a great unnecessary cost to your body. Do you not wish to rest, Joaquin? Wouldn't it be best to live the final minutes of your life resting? Taking a moment to hold your family one last time before our Peace?" Urijah softly questioned. 15. "That doesn't matter," Urijah softly breathes out with a smile, hot air colliding against the cold breeze as the countdown reaches its conclusion.

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makima-s-most-smile · 9 months

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Trigun Maximum 10.4

It is time…

Trigun Ultimate: 1.1, 1.2, 2.1, 2.2, 2.3, 2.4 Trigun Maximum: 1.1, 1.2, 2.1, 2.2, 3.1, 3.2, 4.1, 4.2, 5.1, 5.2, 6.1, 6.2, 7.1, 7.2, 8.1, 8.2, 8.3, 9.1, 9.2, 10.1, 10.2, 10.3, 10.4, 10.5

07: Wolfwood

Farewell, my friend.

Fitting, that we do not see Wolfwood here, but little Nicholas. Because in the end even though he was aged up and tortured, this child remained in him. This is his true self. The lost little boy that felt himself as a burden to all and that shouldered the responsibility of the wellbeing of the place he loved most. The lost little boy that cared too much in a world that cares too little. The morals of this little kid made Wolfwood the man he is today, through all the torture and everything, they persevered. This is the best of humanity.

Wolfwood has been an awkward idiot even in childhood. He cannot deal with open affection and becomes shy. It is sad and cute at the same time.

Is that a young Chapel? How much did he age in those six years? Damn!

The tricks the cult used to get children. It was a trap and it got Wolfwood. He left to become a tradesman… And a tradesman he did become, just not the kind of tradesman everyone imagined. Wolfwood was a great brother to many and they loved him.

Even if confetti is selfmade, we know they didn't have much ressources there. It surely was not cheap to produce it, even if it was selfmade.

How old does Wolfwood look there, maybe 10? Maybe even younger. The timeline is really not something we should look to close up. Nightow went by vibes, that’s all we need to know.

Like I said so often, the orphanage is Wolfwood’s paradise. The place where he was fed, could sleep and felt safe. He didn’t require anything more and that says much about his living situation beforehand. Much like Rem for Vash, it is an ideal for Wolfwood, a perfect place, something that has to be protected from the reality of the world. This ideal has been his saving grace. It made him survive not only Chapel and the torture, but it gave him reason to go on when his guilt became too much. If Wolfwood is truly devoted to something, it is this.

Wolfwood’s sorrowful eyes… He looks younger here. And softer. The softest Wolfwood we have ever seen. Close behind the Wolfwood that let down his guard the night before he brought Vash to the ark and they relaxed a last time together.

Even after all he did and all he accomplished, Wolfwood feels undeserving for any forgiveness or any welcome. If Chapel has achieved anything then it is that Wolfwood truly has no self love. Wolfwood was hypercritical with himself before the cult got his clutches around him, but I have no doubt that the things he went through have worsened his self worth massively.

He wants to be kept in memory as the innocent, but responsible, big brother Nico and not the bloodied gunman he has become. He wants to keep their innocence and the illusion that somewhere their beloved big brother is still out there. He wants to protect them one last time, this time from the grief that comes with his death.

But, Wolfwood is a complex character. If the kiddos knew, would they really go away that easily? Wouldn’t they try to make him come with them? Being either forced to watch Wolfwood die on the way to Home or having to see Wolfwood breaking down, because he cannot keep up the masquerade anymore. He cannot be vulnerable, especially not in his last moments.

I wish we would get more info, does Wolfwood chose to stay because he knows he would not get to the main ship for help/he knows that his body breaking apart is not treatable or has he ‘just’ given up. I think it is the first, I just wish for some hard facts. But neither of the two lovely calamities left are really able to talk directly about the elephant in the room. Vash is so desperate.

By not addressing that Wolfwood is actively dying, by trying to push Wolfwood to leave with the others, they both avoid one thing… The helplessness. This is Wolfwood’s choice, so it is okay, so it is bearable.

There is one really big headcannon that I have for the case that either Wolfwood decided to stay there even though there may have been a possibility to save Wolfwood or that Vash may have been able to heal Wolfwood with or without a cost of his lifespan, but Wolfwood denied either of it. And it boils down back to agency. Vash is so much about having none/giving others the full agency, that he cannot force Wolfwood to do something he either doesn’t have the energy to or doesn’t want to due to the cost. Not only is that one of Vash’ biggest modus operandi, reacting instead of acting, but here it is something more. It is about Wolfwood’s agency. By now it is absolutely clear that the only true choice Wolfwood had in his life was to die for the things he loved or lose himself. Vash cannot rob Wolfwood of his agency. Not when he finally regained some in his last moments. (That said, I do not judge any peeps who use Vash overriding Wolfwood’s wants and healing him or bringing him to safety. One of my most favourite breaks-my-heart-art piece is the one where Wolfwood awakes with golden hair on the couch, because Vash has given him all his life. And Vash sits lifeless next to him. I have so many feels about that one.(by popular request a link to the pic, damn had I dive deep into my bookmarks))

Neither of them really talk to each other. But from what they know of each other, it says more than words. Wolfwood, stressing that he is a gun-ho-gun, a killer, an assassin and a traitor to Vash, even seemingly proving it with the coins, Wolfwood wants to keep Vash from grieving. Vash does not need to grieve for Wolfwood. Wolfwood is a shitty person. There is no last-minute discussion to be made about it. Vash accepts the plea behind it. He disagrees with Wolfwood. But he helps Wolfwood to keep the illusion up that they aren’t that close, that Wolfwood doesn’t need to feel sorrow for leaving Vash, because their connection is not real. They both comfort each other by not talking about it.

Personally, I am so sad, that even in his death, Wolfwood is all about others, about lessening the pain that comes with it, that he cannot be vulnerable and just grieve his future. I am sad for Vash, too, but Vash will live on, for the better and worse.

That’s… Wolfwood had no goals for himself. He has always been the protector. He never imagined a future beyond that. He had his purpose and that has been fulfilled. Not completely, since Knives is still there, but he has done all he could. He has done what a human could do. And I understand that Wolfwood cannot regret his decision. It is too intrinsically intertwined with his identity and self-perception.

And again, Wolfwood cannot bear vulnerability. Neither can Vash. Which ends in this silly exchange. But, truly, if Vash didn’t react that way, I believe both would have broken down.

The last time? The last time was when Vash got drunk in the bar with the two outsiders and Wolfwood was persuaded by the nice granny to let his guard down and drink a glass, too. It was the talk where One-Eye stressed that “you’ll always end up alone and be alone.” Damn…

Birbs. Nicholas can finally enjoy his freedom. For a moment at least. For a moment he is free like a bird. The struggle is over. He is already dead. There is nothing to fight for him anymore.

It confused me. This sentence at the moment. Two possible interpretations for me: 1. Wolfwood still tries to fake more distance between them to make it hurt less and/or 2. Wolfwood truly wishes for a future for Vash in which he can smile with a full heart.

But even Wolfwood cannot hold the soft feelings in. Not all of Vash’ smiles were empty. Many smiles that Wolfwood saw and/or caused were real ones. I read this as Wolfwood trying to tell Vash that he knows that he was someone important to Vash. And now Vash cannot bear it. Because he is about to lose Wolfwood forever.

(What ruins the mood a bit for me is that I cannot not laugh at the funky pose of Wolfwood. He really was like: I am a twister!)

This is the first time I saw Brad in the background. He must think they are all crazy! He doesn’t know.

Wolfwood always had a home. They love him. They accept him as he is. They know that the bloodied man is their beloved big brother. Wolfwood can pass with the knowledge that he is accepted into paradise with bloodied hands and all.

Wolfwood cries. The man that so stoically had been in control of himself, that has been so incredibly avoidant of even an ounce of vulnerability, cries openly. Most likely for the first time in years. We have never seen him cry in the manga, we have seen him in shock, in despair, we have seen him shout out in pain, but he never cried.

And with that realisation… I cannot say how to interpret this scene. Comes the realisation of this love with a wave of grief because he cannot be with them, that he has no future to enjoy together, that he loves them and cannot tell them? Is it a last surge against the inevitable? A cry for mercy to the absent God? Does he wish to stay with Vash and his family?

And his bell tolls. Wolfwood has died.

I do not believe that Wolfwood would regret his choice. He fulfilled his life goal. He may regret leaving Vash, he may regret not having had a future or more time. But the one thing he can be sure of is that Vash will take over his burden and fight for their future. They are not defenseless. He can rest. For me, the smile does not mean he died happy or without any regrets. But he died not alone. And that is enough for him.

And Vash stays, again. Vash avoided any real connection to humans. Even those he called his family always felt artificial for me. Wolfwood was the first human since Rem that got under Vash' walls and got into his heart. And I truly believe that other than with Rem, with Wolfwood Vash sometimes wasn't aware of the for Vash so obvious difference between plants and humans.

Wolfwood’s death… My feelings are divided and are all over the place. It is handled with such care and the consequences of his death are felt so deeply through the narrative, to which I say more in a later volume. He wasn’t alone, he was with his best friend. He didn’t die in a fight, but out of it at a place he could choose. And even better, he got a very clear message that his family loves him, even if he cannot do it himself. It is one of the most peaceful deaths imaginable for this pained soul.

But at the same time, it is so unfair! Wolfwood sacrificed his whole life for the safety of innocents, he bloodied his hands again and again and endured so much and all he got was a death that wasn’t the worst. He got the knowledge that he is welcome home. He gets the knowledge that his loved ones are safe for now and that his friend will try his best to keep it that way. But he never gets to experience it truly. He never gets to enjoy the fruits of his labour. He didn’t want much. He didn’t even really dream of anything. But if he could have a place to rest, to eat and to be safe, he wouldn’t want more.

I think part of my reaction stems from me being from an individualistic society. We learn that you put the work in and receive your reward, that selfless behaviour gains you a reward. Look no further than the fairy tales that are used to teach Europeans like me morals, The Star Money is one that fits this idea. But Wolfwood as a person did not get a personal, selfish reward. He got death. And that makes it so painful. His death wasn’t for nothing, but his life feels so cut short. He just started the path of forgiving himself. He just realised that he wasn’t alone anymore. His development was not at an end. But what Nightow wanted to say with him in the story was. The difference between the narrative and the character. And that is upsetting, while still being completely okay.

Taking in consideration that Nightow comes from a collectivist society, I feel that the outcome that Wolfwood was able to save his home, his group, even at the cost of his life, is meaningful in a way I may not completely get. Wolfwood will live on, in the actions and life of the people he saved, he will live on in Livio, he will live on in Vash. But I see the abused kid that could not be saved. The abused kid that protected others because he wasn’t protected. That is the tragedy for me.

Maybe, adding to that, on a personal note, I am a Millennial. The world that was promised to me was built up on lies and is crumbling under the greed of a few people. But media says it is my generation's fault for *looks at today’s paper* eating avocado instead of diamonds. Parents being absent due to work, being alone and self reliant, maybe the oldest kid that has to take care of the siblings instead of the parents, those things were more a normal state than a rare occurrence, when I was young. With the wars, the crash from ‘08 and the shit that came after it, the existential dread is real and the hopelessness, too. I can only try to lessen the impact for the people who come after me and try my best to endure. And Wolfwood’s whole character vibes with my experience. And on this personal note, that the character who cared so much and tried so hard could not be saved… I want hope. I need hope. In this day and age more than ever.

08: Final Parting

What’s more to say? It is final. In spite of all of his powers, Vash was unable to save Wolfwood’s life, even though he was able to protect Wolfwood’s treasure and was a big part of Wolfwood freeing himself out of the cage that Chapel put him in. It’s just so damn tragic that after all he has been through, his freedom lies in the way he was able to part.

The denial, the looming panic and then Vash laying out the facts, short, precisely and with a deadpan face. This scene is just so... It hurts. Wolfwood's death is final. It drives it home.

There is not a small part in Vash that may despise Livio right now. It won’t keep. From Vash’ perspective, Wolfwood entrusted Livio and the whole orphanage to him, the future as a whole, but especially the future of his loved ones.

Razlo has been a brat, but Livio seems also extremely young. I do not think he ever truly believed Wolfwood would truly die and only now he starts to understand how much Wolfwood sacrificed to get Livio out of Chapel’s claws.

Vash not only protected Wolfwood’s body and Livio’s life, he protected the whole orphanage. Vash protected Wolfwood’s paradise from Knives’ laser.

And by reflecting Knives’ power back to their source, Vash declares war.

How does Knives do it? He is further and further gone the longer the story goes.

But not only that, what must that mean to Knives? His brother uses his so important lifeforce to not only spite Knives, he does it for the human Knives has sent out to betray Vash. This human has been somehow able to become more important to Vash than not only his life, but also his brother. A massive middle finger right in his face. And the worst part of it, Wolfwood is already dead. He cannot even take revenge upon him. Remember the two-face panel of Knives when he cause the fall? He drew blood with his thumbs over the left side of his face, the first panel here resembles this from the pose. Kinda as if Knives does his last step to complete and utter madness.

We know that Wolfwood came from a place of scarcity. Food is his love language or one of them. So it's fitting that both of the boys have memories with Wolfwood regarding this. Not only that, the memories shown are either the first meeting or the start of their journey together. Vash makes the food that Rem has made him and food that reminds him of Wolfwood.

I learned that food can be an important part of grief. You need to keep yourself fed and grief can be easily so overpowering that you cannot do it. But they must keep going on. So they eat.

The fucking third vial! You were a red herring for Wolfwood’s survival, a false counter. I despise you!

And this is a peace offering from Vash. I still believe that Vash is incredibly angry, but he understands why Livio was in that place. Remember Wolfwood, remember the man that was everything to me and that gave everything for you.

Wolfwood’s burden made him the man he was. It is just a fact.

And now it is Vash' burden. Vash takes over for Wolfwood and keeps going where Wolfwood couldn't. What a sad situation. When the only thing that binds you to your lost friend is the burden that he carried and that killed him in the end.

#trigunbookclub #trigun bookclub #trigun #trigun maximum 10.4 #I am done I ugly sobbed but I am done

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themolluscasometimes · 3 months

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AIGHT ive been thinking about the calamity!yin yu au bc im disgustingly brainrotted and all the holes in my brain are being filled with mxtx ship thoughts.

ANYWAY

calamity! yin yu who simultaneously finds quan yizhen breathtaking and is proud of him and truly, genuinely, fundamentally also HATES him. But then stuff happens, character development, trauma, tragedy etc etc and we see it all unfold into yin yu's self disgust and his stengthening belief that his ability to hate someone like quan yizhen is evidence of his disgraceful nature so that hatred turns inward and the rest to exhausted resignation and theres a dynamic betwen the two of them thats moving from yin yu hating-loving qyz to apathy and self hatred and qyz moving from his immature affection of 'i want you to like me' to taking some initiative in 'i want to love you and to do so is to show you the you that saved me/made me who i am' like. for the love of god. they need an arc that brings them together in such a way that they both grow and benefit, in a ways thats natural and doesnt undercut the truth of yin yu's envy and resentment and qyz's wilful ignorance of yinyu's needs and emotions as an individual who doesnt exist just to give and be kind.

like. listen. im not here to give just one of them an arc. yinyu is going to have all his self hatred and envy and awful emotions and work through them to find the love he already holds for qyz and then LET QYZ LOVE HIM IN RETURN.

But I also need QYZ to have the realisation that love is a verb. It's something you do for other people. Yin yu isn't the perfect untouchable, endlessly kind shixiong who gave him the life he has and to whom qyz has little to nothing to offer. Bc Yin yu doesn't love himself, qyz has to do it for him. (yeah im giving them a 'let me hang out in your lair while youre having this mental breakdown and recovering from injuries and let me help you' arc)

I still have a lot of deets to work out but it's precanon divergence in which Yin Yu descends, wants to die, becomes a ghostly ex god that no one in the heavens wants to acknowledge bc it would mean admitting he's one of theirs.

qyz just wants him to stop doing these horrible things because even if you want revenge, it's not something shixiong would want if he were in his right mind and thinking like he usually does.

Yin Yu does want revenge. So he's bitter, so what. but it's not what he's doing. not really. destroying the things left in the world that serve as evidence of his existence just conveniently happens to double as vengeance. Whether it's vengeance against others or vengeance against himself is unclear. salvation is unachievable for someone like him, but he's always been good at self-sabotage. whats a step further into self-annihilation.

anyway

I've been cooking :>

#quan yizhen #yin yu #quanyin #tgcf #heaven official's blessing #calamity!yin yu au #eclipsing shadow devouring light

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creativesplat · 5 months

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Mipha!

Mipha… where do I start!?

First impression:

I thought she was a very pretty fish-lady, and was instantly blown away by how romantic her memory with Link was (some poeople already know, but before I played the game I looked at fan art and stuff and really liked the concept of ZeLink people were drawing - it must be a canon ship if people are so intense about it right? and I almost always fall for the canon ship in a piece of media. So I got into the game wanting to rescue the princess Link was in love with. Turns out that princess wasn’t Zelda, and from my first impression I was like ‘oh ok, so we’re not avenging zelda then… we’re avenging fish’

Impression now:

She was so wonderful why did she have to die!! Link loved you, your design is so cool, why did you die!! A strong powerful (dagnam play AoC and you’ll see what I mean) warrior princess who loved her people and her family and Link. what a woman she was (and is in aoc).

Favorite moment:

Okay, so I know its a bit basic and there are some awesome moments in AoC (like the date her and link so on) but the first memory, the first time you’re introduced to her, it still gives me chills. Mipha's touch is and always will be my fave. I love it.

Idea for a story:

The tensions between Hyrule and Zora’s domain bubble over, leading to a siege or something, and link betrays Hyrule to join Mipha and bring the war to an end.

Ooh another one: Link tries to run away from the duty assigned to him and is forcibly kept at the castle by Rhoam but the champions help zelda and link and they leave central hyrule to try and figure out the various powers without the added trapped in the castle stuff. Mipha rescues link from a tower like rapunzal effectively.

Unpopular opinion:

Link should have rescued her instead being with Zelda during the calamity. She was strong and could battle effectively, but if Link had gone with her, they would have dominated water blight as a badass couple. If link and mipha had defeated water blight, they could have joined the rest of the champions (due to the sheikhah slate being available for teleportation), weaken Gannon through attacking the blights and then go and kick is butt in the castle. What a good happy ending that is! (I think I just described AoC a little bit…) anyway.

Favorite relationship:

LINK AND MIPHA THEYRE SO CUTE TOGETHER AND SO BADASS AND I LOVE THEM.

They are the perfect couple, and the proposal armour is just so sweet and I adore them both :)

Favourite headcanon:

Oooh. There’s a lot to pick from…

The symbols on the Zora armour represent Link and Mipha’s marriage, and tying the families together:

the Rhombus with the luminous stone is what I head canon Link’s family sigil/ crest to be:

And obviously the three cresents are Mipha’s family crest

And here we see them combined, with a white stone in the middle

White gems are often related to hope (link), healing (mipha), unity, and wholeness. So a unity between the rhombus and the crescents and the ideas of healing and hope? Am I reaching. Yes. Do I also love this head canon? Yes.

2) Link understands Zoran (the Zora language) but can’t speak it very well on account of the fin movement and whistling required. Mipha regularly says ‘I love you’ or other comforting things via subtle tail or fin movements when in company. He has little hand gestures he uses, sign shorthand I guess, to tell her the same.

3) the champions all knew about Mipha and Link's relationship. because their little found family deserves to have a fun time trying to set them up on dates or make them do things together, so that even though things are tense between hyrule and the domain, the two can spend time together.

#thanks for the ask stars! I really enjoyed this :)#miphlink #mipha #link #botw #totk critical #breath of the wild #unpopular opinion on zelda hopefully no-ones too mad about it tho #mipha x link #sign #zora

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texasthoughtsaboutnothing · 5 months

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So, Canto 5. Spoilers.

Peak fiction, utterly incredible. My following thoughts will be jumbled but forgive me.

I've sadly not finished the source material, so I won't analyze it from that POV, but just to discuss the continued building of the world of the City, the Great Lake is so well conceived as a setting. The individual Lakes and their Waves, and the Whales that cause them, the variable coordinates and U Corp's monopoly on written data of Laws. You could make a whole damn RPG on the back of this stuff alone, I know TTRPG heads are looking at this and coming up with some homebrews.

I wonder if the Lakes are actually the result of the Whales changing the waters around them? Ishmael theorizes that the Whales parasitize humans out of loneliness, to make others like them (which of course reflects on Ahab as a Whale) and I wonder if the waters of the lake are similarly changed to reflect the Whale? And then I think about how Ahab turned the inside of the Pallid Whale into Pequod Town gah the subtext.

I'm also thinking more about the Sinners as a found family. While they've gotten on well enough since Verg put his foot down it's becoming clearer as time goes on that real bonds are forming. Ishmael was certainly straining those bonds but its a testament to them that they grew stronger after she found peace. I was pleasantly surprised she and Outis found a dynamic as fellow seawomen leading to mutual respect, not to mention what's going on between Heath and Ish (I have never shipped anything harder in my life). And then there's the individual relationships to Dante. Dante and Ish have gotten over the hump, and while she says that if they ever go in the wrong direction "she'll drop a skiff and depart" I feel like Ish is invested in Dante as a friend and will be there for them no matter what, including steering them back on the right course.

We saw it in S.E.A., but it's dawning on me that we get to experience characters post arc and that there are consequences to that. It didn't feel that way as strongly with Canto 1 - 3 because Gregor and Rodya are thoroughly still cooking on their issues and Sinclair feels like he's started his arc to becoming more confident and capable (the part where he actually threatens that guy is just chef's kiss). But we saw a Yi Sang who's actively trying to preserve his new friend group and find the bright side of things. Now we'll have a collected Ishmael who can keep it together and is firmly on Dante's side, which will be amazing come the Heartbreaking if the Heathmael dream is real.

Rapid fire thoughts in no particular order:

Ahab VA is perfect casting, her character is phenomenal, and I can't wait to see how she'll do on Hermann's team. PM is carrying the torch of insane old ladies.

I'm increasingly certain that the plot of Limbus will be ultimately about the multiverse (IN A GOOD WAY) and the goals of the villains and other groups deals with mirror worlds in some way.

I'm thinking about the other 3 Calamities of the Lake, Whales that attack without rhyme or reason. I have to imagine them as other great beasts of literature, so one surely is the Crocodile from Peter Pan. Possibly another is the Dogfish from Pinocchio (adapted as Monstro in the Disney version). Then I don't know, the Giant Squid from 20'000 Leagues Under the Sea (or maybe the "Narwhal" itself)? There's many possibilities.

I enjoy the Middle as a faction, they fit in with the deeply absurdist nature of the City and feel distinct from the other Fingers we know about. Makes me wonder what the actual fuck the Pinky's deal is if they're the worst Finger (iirc).

Love the feeling of Faust and Verg as outsiders Red Fraud Alert there's no way it doesn't come to a head at some point where Vergilius and the group are fundamentally at odds but the group is strong enough that threats won't cut it.

Compass is fire. Love that we're seeing different fan remixes combining the vocal and instrumentals in interesting ways, though I worry for the official version. Fly, Broken Wings doesn't work as well when it just goes through the whole thing without repeating the Broken Wings part, I much prefer an edit that matches the in game version more. I hope Mili sees what people are doing and gives us the heartbeat.

Praying to god we get a Stubb or Pip Outis ID with Pequod Captain Ishmael, but that will likely be end of season. I predict Ish ID to be a powerful SP support ID and will likely be as meta as Nclair (which is cool but also kinda unfortunate narratively, there are some downsides to the Gacha format).

Sentences like "Ishmael totally tops Heathcliff, that guy would turn into a puppy dog at the slightest hint of affection" are insane things I believe wholeheartedly and I love every time a literature person stumbles upon it and has to wrestle with this surprisingly valid crackship not knowing its origin.

All for now but I'm sure I'll think of something else later, can't wait for the Christmas Event (which will likely drop after Christmas but c'est la vie).

#limbus company #limbus #canto 5 spoilers #canto v spoilers #heathmael

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somethingclevermahogony · 9 days

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OC Intro: The Deep Sun

Hello everyone! Here is the newest OC intro. This one is gonna be a bit different than other introductions that I have done. The next poll will be up tonight!

Name: Da Dóp Fricandel "The Deep Sun"

"I have forgotten what my name was when I first ventured here from one of the spirit realms, I cannot tell you which one. That was millennia ago, when mountains were young, when the ocean water was sweet, before what you call the Age of Glass and Metal. In the tongue of those whose spawn now surround you I was called Da Dóp Fricandel, that is The Deep Sun. I rather like that name. I believe it suits me."

This continues below the cut!

Family

Children/Creation: The Kosheki

Narul looked out at the pale crowd, they looked back at him with their expressionless eyes. “What are these…things?” The Deep Sun laughed, a surprisingly soft and musical sound. “I’m shocked that you don’t know Narul. Come on, make a guess.” "Why would I know what these monsters are? I’ve never seen these things in my life." The Deep Sun sighed, shaking his head. " Oh, how times have changed. They are like you, dear boy." " These are spiritbloods?" Narul asked, revolted. " No, no! Well at least not these ones. These are humans, or at least a more perfect form of them."

Homeland/Place of Origin

One of the realms of the spirits, exactly which one is unknown. Prior to the Age of Glass and Metal the Deep Sun was simple spirit, a rather small spirit of the soil and rock, who lived on the Isle of Stān, now called the Island of the Kosheki.

The accursed island loomed ahead of them, a great rocky crag towering over a foundation of verdant green hills, jutting out of the water, lonely and cold. “There she is,” Istek said, gazing at the island solemnly. The birds that circled the stony peak called out mournfully into the mist. The rocky beach was littered with the wrecks of ships, hundreds of them from every era, all in various states of decay. Great warships, their wooden ribs jutting into the sky like the bones of slain dragons. Royal barques, smashed by the waves, their ornate sides now choked with algae and rot. Merchants ships, their contents haphazardly strewn across the white sand, Ikopeshi raiding canoes torn asunder and scattered amongst the beach stones.The newest vessel was a Knoshic fishing boat, its sail still flapping softly in the breeze. A great hole had been made in its side, as if a great something had ripped into it.

History

"I trust that you have heard of the Great Calamity?"

" The fairytale?" Narul asked cautiously.

There was silence for a moment, and then the demon tilted his head back and laughed with such intensity that the doors of the cages rattled.

" A fairytale? Oh my boy. I like you already! Tell me what you know about the Great Calamity, what fairytales do they tell in your city?"

Narul closed his eyes, remembering the stories Bira had told him.

" A long time ago, the people of Kobani were rich and prosperous. They made great cities of glass and metal. They grew so powerful that they thought themselves better than the gods. For their hubris, they were punished, the great cities were destroyed, and only the pious remained. Everyone in Kobani now are the descendants of those pious people." He thought of the tunnel and the strange orbs. Glass and metal.

The demon chuckled and wagged a finger.

" No. No. All wrong. You savages weren't punished for your impiety. Do you truly think that is such a pressing matter to the gods? Do you think that the arbiters of the universal laws of nature care if you pray or make the proper sacrifices? They ruled over Kobani long before your kind or any of your kin were here, before any sentient life besides we spirits were here. No, your crime was far worse. Your ancestors discovered a way to harvest the het. The soul. The spirit. You found a way to rip the essence of being from its place and turn it into fuel for your machines and to light your houses."

" But that's impossible," Narul interjected, the het was an intangible thing, it was no more possible to secure it then it was to trap light in a bottle.

" Oh, it was very much possible. And when a het is destroyed, burnt up, it is gone forever. The soul will not reincarnate. It will not continue on to the next world. By harvesting het, a being is doomed to oblivion, thus interrupting a thread in the intricate web of reincarnation crafted by the gods. So the het that is destroyed in Kobani means that a baby is not born in the next world."

" I don’t believe that people would do that…it's evil, why would they?" Narul muttered softly.

" Oh, I haven't gotten to my favorite part, my naive little friend. At first, you people only harvested het from animals, which caused untold ecological catastrophe not only here on Kobani but on other worlds too. Entire ecosystems withered, species vanished. But it wasn't enough; your cities grew too big, too power-hungry, you longed for luxury. So you turned on each other; your criminals, your prisoners of war, your destitute, your diseased, your unwanted. Your ancestors turned mortals souls into commodities, your drove your own cousins the tree-tenders to extinction. The depths of your species’ depravity is truly awe inspiring. The gods made this world and gifted you the privilege of living amongst it, they filled it with beauty. Every human could live in comfort, could go to sleep with a full belly and roof over their heads. You were loved, cherished. We spirits lived to make the world one which suited you, we strived to make the world beautiful and fruitful. We loved you, myself included. We gave you the tools to make the world more beautiful than you had found it. But you squandered the gifts that you were given. In your twisted, broken, greedy little heads, you justified how one man could live with the means of thousands of his peers while others starved in the mud. You consumed and destroyed with such voracity and foolishness that you drove my kin to despair. Your gross negligence of your fellow man, your greed and hatred, that is what birthed the first demons, you twisted us, disillusioned us.”

Narul felt a knot in his stomach as he listened to the demon speak, he didn’t dare respond.

The Deep Son continued. “In their overconsuming need for more, your ancestors consigned millions to the void. And when they started attacking spirits. Needless to say, that was just too much. The gods knew that if you were allowed to continue like this then the world would be thrown into complete chaos, and all life would crumble. To save the cycle of reincarnation, and ultimately life on all worlds from falling apart, the gods elected to wipe out your civilization."

" And that was the Great Calamity," Narul whispered softly.

" It was glorious. The world burned and froze and burned again until your kind and all of their creations were scoured from the face of Kobani. Your cities which reached towards the heavens were smashed to dust. Though, of course, some of my kin still had a soft spot for you creatures, they hoped that you could be reformed. They invited you into their homes deep in the mountains, with the condition that you leave your tools behind you, tools like that.” He waved a dismissive hand towards the strange metal suit which lay dusty and abandoned among the refuse. “Those are your ancestors, not the pious or noble. The poor. Those unfortunate sods who could not so easily prey on the world around them."

Narul looked at the metal walls and at the gaunt figures.

" Is that what this is? One of those places where the good spirits hid people?"

" Oh no. Men made this, a marvel of human engineering. You see some of your kind were not content with paying for their crimes, for reincarnating in the next world, as they would have. And so they built this place in hopes that when the gods had finished their justice on the world above, they could emerge triumphant with their machines and continue their wickedness. They lived down here in comfort, men of business and government. The fools thought they were so clever; they thought they could hide from us, from justice. But I found them, and I punished them for their arrogance. I whispered to them in the shadows. I destroyed their food, and I plunged them into darkness. I ripped apart their machines and engines. I drove them mad.” The demon chuckled. “With no food, they fed on each other. I scrapped away their pretensions and revealed the feral evil beasts that they were. All their culture and superiority was wiped away in an instant. All it took was a bit of hunger. And when they had forgotten what light was like, when they had been reduced to vermin cowering in the shadows. I revealed myself to them, their Sun. They are my Kosheki. They worship me, Narul. Look at them. All they know is hunger and love for me. I am their god, their everything.”

The Deep Sun reached out to caress the face of one of the Kosheki. “ I have molded them into a more beautiful human. Perhaps not physically, but mentally. I have taken their concept of self. There is no greed, no hatred. They do not murder, rape, or steal. They know only a childlike love, a pure love. They appreciate every meal, they dance without fearing judgment, and they look at me as their father, their warming sun. Look at them, Narul. Innocent. Gentle.” He cooed softly.

Appearance

Narul turned towards the deep rumbling voice. At the center of the room sat what he had thought was a great bonfire. He saw the face first, peering out from the tongues of flame. A man's face, though twisted, the lips stretched, the crevices of the face deep, as if they had been carved there by hammer and chisel. The figure reclined on the floor, his chin resting upon his clawed hand. His nudity was disguised by the inferno that emanated from his crimson skin. The eyes glowed, in each a single glowing ember surrounded by black coal, burning deep into Narul, terrible and yet beautiful.

She looked down into the calm waters and saw it, a face looking back up at her from just below the surface. It was human, or at least human in shape. The glowing red face was surrounded by a mane of fiery locks that danced and undulated in defiance of any current. It's eyes burned like coals. As it looked up at her its lips twisted into a smile. Two of the monster's claws took hold of the sides of the ship and began to shake the vessel to and fro.

Before his eyes the demon began to contort and change, his body roiling and stretching, extra limbs erupting from his scaly skin. Its body was long and sleek like a snake, its torso supported by six clawed arms. Its face remained the same.

Personality

The Deep Sun is cruel, vindictive, he relishes in pain and humiliation. His view on humans is shaped by the pain and fear experienced by millions of spirits, mortals, and animals that fell to Ekatsim Technology.

Gender/Pronouns

(Most spirits are not gendered, Narul typically refers to the demon with he/they pronouns)

Sexual Orientation

Asexual and Aromantic (Most spirits do not feel sexual attraction of any sort)

Relationships

The Deep Sun's relationship with his creations, the Kosheki and the spiritblood, Sadaric, is manipulative and cruel, reliant on control and possession. He does seem to feel some sort of tenderness for his “pets”, though whether that could be considered love is doubtful.

Favorite Color

Black

Favorite Food

Most spirits do not eat, though they do enjoy the aroma of cooking food. The Deep Sun enjoys the smell of the Kosheki's meals, which typically consist of the poor sailors that land on the Island's shore.

Biggest Fear

Ekatism Technology

Arkodian Bronze

Sage

No (Spirit/Demon, capable of magic dependent of sagecraft)

Literate

No excerpt here since most of this post is made up of excerpts haha

@patternwelded-quill @flaneurarbiter @skyderman @blackblooms @roach-pizza @illarian-rambling @dezerex @theocticscribe @axl-ul, @persnickety-peahen, @surroundedbypearls , @kaylinalexanderbooks , @mk-writes-stuff

#writeblr #writing #fantasy #fantasy writing #oc intro #villain oc #oc art #oc lore #testamentsofthegreensea #worldbuilding #fantasy world #creative writing #fantasy novel #wip #wip excerpt

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queerromancerecs · 3 months

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The Covert Captain

Title: The Covert Captain; or, A Marriage of Equals

Author: Jeannelle M. Ferreira

Summary:

Eleanor Charlotte Fleming, forgotten daughter of a minor baronet, stakes her life on a deception and makes her name—if not her fortune—on the battlefield. Her war at an end, she returns to England as Captain Nathaniel Fleming and wants nothing more than peace, quiet, and the company of horses. Instead, Captain Fleming meets Harriet. Harriet has averted the calamity of matrimony for a decade, cares little for the cut of her gowns, and is really rather clever. Falling in love is not a turn of the cards either of them expected.

Genre: Historical Romance

Ship type: f/f

Why you like it: Have you ever read a Georgette Heyer novel and said to yourself, boy I wish this weird gender in disguise plot was gayer? Did you spend a lot of time as a youth reading stories about girls who disguised themselves as boys to join the army and find yourself wishing she’d get together with the girl who befriended her? This might be the book for you! Perfect for people who love historical romance but get a little annoyed when they sound too modern.

Content tags Deception

Link: Find it Here

(image description: a close up shot of a dark horse and the reins next to the hilt of a sword)

#Title: The Covert Captain #Author: Jeannelle M. Ferreira #Genre: Romance - Historical #Genre: Historical - Regency #Ship Type: f/f

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sergeantgoggles · 4 days

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I'm back again!

How about Maize with Fireball/Nemec

Omg this was the cutest shit. This might be a new comfort ship because they're so freaking cute to me.

Maize: Who initiates the first kiss?

There was an aroma wafting through the base that tickled Nemec’s senses. It was sweet, heavy, and just the right amount of spice to keep him interested, the perfect concoction to lead him into the kitchen, the source of the scent. He’d ignored Howzer when he asked where he was going, and only distantly heard Rex tease him about thinking with his stomach. Which, okay, may have been partially true. Nemec had never shied away from a good meal, and on their last supply run Echo had come back with a bunch of ingredients to stock the kitchen with for at least a little while.

As he’d suspected, Fireball was whipping up something delicious. His apron was tied firmly around his waist as he slaved over the stove, mixing chopped vegetables in a creamy orange sauce in one pan and simmering spice coated chicken in another. There was another pot that Nemec couldn’t see into until he was nearly pressed against Fireball’s back, and only then did he note that it was a large pot of rice.

“Smells good,” Nemec complimented as he couldn’t help but notice Fireball leaning slightly into him as he stirred the sauce.

“Well, I hope it tastes as good as it smells,” Fireball chuckled. “With Gregor out in the field, you’ll have to settle for my second-rate cooking.”

“Your cooking is fine,” Nemec insisted as he leaned closer than what was strictly necessary to get a better sniff, though being so close, it was almost hard to tell what was food and what was uniquely the scent of Fireball’s skin. “Maybe even better.”

Fireball grinned. “Don’t let him hear you say that.”

They shared a soft chuckle, enjoying the temporary moment of peace amidst the chaos and calamity that the rebellion naturally brought. Nemec’s hands found a home on Fireball’s hips, and he sighed contently when Fireball fully leaned into him, allowing Nemec to slide his arms around him loosely.

They had been dancing around this thing growing between them for weeks, never quite pushing the other or themselves to take it any further than flirting touches and late night smokes when they weren’t on watch. It was comfortable, and if nothing else, it was a distraction from what was happening on the outside, across the galaxy.

Fireball only moved when he needed to combine the chicken with the sauce, and Nemec watched as Fireball seemed to move with ease. He wondered, if things had been different, if Fireball would have been a chef. Nemec thought he should have been, but they all should have been something more than what they were now.

He pushed the thought aside as Fireball turned to him, spoon in hand with a little bit of sauce on the tip.

“Taste?” He offered.

Nemec leaned in and took the sample from the spoon, immediately melting at the taste and humming with a smile. “So much better than Gregor’s cooking.”

“You’re biased,” Fireball accused, then paused, eyeing him curiously.

Nemec blinked. “What’s up?”

“You have…” Fireball inched closer. “…sauce…”

Their lips slotted together, chaste, soft, and innocent, and Nemec almost missed the chance to pull him close again. His arms slowly tightened around Fireball’s hips, hands splayed wide as he ran them up his back and deepened the kiss, and Fireball’s arms wrapped around his neck.

They only parted when the rice water started to boil over, and Fireball jumped, gasping as he quickly turned to take care of it. Nemec stepped out of the way but leaned back in to kiss below Fireball’s ear. “You should let me have a taste more often.”

He smirked as Fireball shivered and flushed from his neck all the way to his cheeks. “Go get some bowls, would you?”

Nemec chuckled, giving up on teasing him for now. There would be plenty of time to explore that later. “Yes, chef.”

#cloneshipping #clone shipping #clone/clone #the bad batch #nemec/fireball #color prompts: cloneshipping edition

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timegears-moved · 1 year

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Please tell me about the Revali and Zelda dynamic

okay so i briefly went into them being parallels to each other in this ask but i'll elaborate further.

they're similar in that:

they struggled with their respective abilities (zelda had no guidance in mastering her goddess powers due to her mother dying at a young age, and revali had to create his gale from scratch and went through so many failures in order to achieve perfection).

feel jealous of link for his natural skill (and in revali's case it's also his social standing (being the son of a knight) and having the leading role in defeating the calamity)

how they differ is how they handle these points. revali is eventually able to master his gale some time before the calamity (though don't think this absolves him of his insecurities) but zelda can only awaken her powers in a critical and dangerous moment (when link nearly dies at fort hateno). and zelda is able to eventually be open and communicate with link and understand what he's going through, something which revali lacks the social skills for. i don't think revali ever truly learns what link was feeling and going through but he is able to admit to himself after medoh is freed that link is worthy of being the hero (we're going to ignore the english translation of this scene and how he puts it all on link's "luck" rather than his skill okay lmao).

just realized i've gone on and on about them being parallels but not their actual dynamic EKBEJWJHEID. there's not much to confirm this but i think the two confided in each other about their struggles. zelda got a frontrow seat to revali injuring himself in order to perfect his gale, and everybody knew about zelda's struggles (her father straight up tells her that the mongers call her the "heir to a throne of nothing". father of the year). i truly think they saw themself in each other, and the reason i think this is because of this line of dialogue from revali (timestamp is at 5:35 but honestly i recommend just listening to all of his extra dialogue). because this isn't elaborated on further people have took this in a shipping sense, and they're free to do that ofc, but i think my idea is far more likely.

also unrelated to the actual topic but please look at what youtube decided to call the chapters in the video i linked:

#asks #drake tag #ty for the ask!!! i would kill for revali/zelda friendship crumbs

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liliallowed · 3 months

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so @leafwateraddict have me some ideas about ship children for the og LV triangle.

I don't really like ship children but like I don't mind making goofy fanon hypothetical scenarios.

I mean y/n does have seal babies in my ocean au. I thought it'd be a fun shitpost.

head canons below cut.

since y/n is gender queer and can be any gender (male or female, trans or cis, enby or anything beyond) I've decided I don't want to involve pregnancy.

it's just with souls.

anyways. so the souling is just there chilling but when it starts to mature and manifest a transparent physical form it starts dying cuz monster forms can't handle determination.

it's why there's never been a hybrid in history. cuz well... humans and monsters souls don't mix.

so like crimson uses their vessel to stabilize the souling. they're an exception to this worlds laws so their inherent nature is the glue needed to mix magic and DT.

it now has three parents. it's 10 percent god/anomaly. 10 percent human. 10 percent monster... and 70 percent dormant exp and LV condensed into a passive lil squishy bean.

crimson holding the child like the lion king: "I have birthed the antichrist. holy shit they're stats are crazy! who's a good strong baby? yesh you are. yesh you are. you're going to be a natural disaster wen u grow up aren't you? THEY INHERITED MY STATS! FUCK YEAH! I CAN'T WAIT TI SEE THIS LIL DEVIL GROW UP TO KICK ASS!"

and then the two snatch the child away from crimson cuz they're a fucking horrible (low-key abusive) parent that just... doesn't understand tenderness. (they're kinda like hand plates gaster lol 😂)

like it's not their fault they don't really understand how to love something for what it is instead of what it can be used for... or just focus on the new "perfect hybrid" like it's a work of art or a perfect specimen from an experiment...

but the child does have two loving parents that will kick crimson's ass whenever they're bothering da bebe.

anyways dust throws crimson out the window.

dust and crimson would argue over who's LV corrupted the child whenever they do something bad. (somewhere away from the kid. they never argue Infront of them.)

"excuse me!? THAT'S YOUR LV SIR. MY LV ONLY HAS PURE JOY. THE KIDS CRYING BECAUSE THEY INHERITED YOUR DEPRESSION LV."

while y/n has not one but three people to take care of. (they need a break)

it's like... a functional dysfunctioning family 😂.

as for the ship child. they're kinda like unprocessed uranium. it's not dangerous by itself.

so like they have the potential to be a world ending calamity but that doesn't mean they WILL.

sure they have an inherent talent in combat n stuff but if they grow up with love and safety? it's just like any other kid.

there's no "evil urge" they have to fight off. their magic just might be hard to control and unstable.

they might actually go become a healer or a doctor! develop green magic and follow their own passion regardless of their soul being basically a dormant LV condensed hellfire.

like... two of their parents might be world ending serial killers but like... that's not how genes work. you don't inherit your parents wrong doings. just a bit of their looks personality and like... maybe neurodivergency.

if they become evil later? nothing to do with how the kid will turn out.

it depends on how the child is raised. and with dust around drowning them in all the affection he can give I wouldn't worry about them turning out like crimson XD.

#ship child #lv triangle #lv triangle poly #tw angst #this is all fanon btw

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ria-writes-stories · 6 months

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Warning: I am not to be held responsible for anything you may be feeling after reading what I have created. With that being said, enjoy

Title: The love for you is forever chained to me

Ship: Envy

Genre: Romance, Wholesome

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

(No one's pov)

Wonderful was the night in which their eyes first met, in which their hands came in union to dance upon the marble floor of the ballroom. Blessed was the suffering through which she has went through that day, the moment he has asked her to dance, and cursed was the joy he had upon that day when he found her crying on her own. As they danced in the ballroom their beings became one, moving in union as if they were one and the same, reflecting each other's movement, and even when briefly parted from their eternal dance they were still one at soul and heart, the mind did not matter, for they were fueled by the same feelings and thoughts as was the other.

As she rested her hand on his shoulder as he lead the dance she looked into his eyes, as suddenly the bitter tears she has spilled that day were now worth everything and more as she got to be held within his arms and look into his dreamy eyes for hours. So full of life, yet gentle and soft like the bright light of an angel, overpowering, overwhelming, and yet so perfect that you could never look away. His movements, ever so delicate showing the care he had for her even if words would never allow them to say it out loud, the actions that they had done for one another spoke more than any other would could ever say. In his black tuxedo, his uniform, with his helmet on, with his messy yet tidy hair, he danced with her until the pain was numb and gone, forgotten as if it didn't ever existed.

Not once has she ever felt better. Her heart fluttered with joy, beating so loudly she was afraid he might hear it and she'll be left exposed and vulnerable, but in the same time she wished he could hear her heart, as a peaceful calmness washed over her as she looked into his perfect dreamy eyes. Her soul so foolishly gave into his grasp without second thoughts and now her mortal vessel was terrified that it will get broken and torn apart, but the soul felt no remorse for any pain that may come into the future...

For it has made it's mind, and it new, that nowhere in this wide lonely world would it ever feel more loved and more cared for, with such small gestures. A blessing was the pain that she felt that day.

As he rested his hand on her waist, leading her into this cold and scary stormy night, with thunder and lightning, as if it were the most peaceful field of flowers in this world that they know of, he looked into her eyes, and suddenly every little ounce of joy he felt that day felt like a curse of torment and torture that no one could deprive him of, and the more he got to hold her in his arms, looking into her ever so tired and pained eyes for what felt like an eternity. Filled with bitter sorrow, cold and distant fear alongside agony and torment, her perfect goddess eyes, the pain she held inside torn him apart, yet he could not look away as if it were forbidden by death itself to do such feat, and he too felt it in his core that he could not look away, not until joy and light were brought upon them, and then, he could never look away, not even briefly, for he will be stunned admiring her eternal beauty. With her perfect dress, her uniform, with her soft smooth hair with her perfect lace and velvet crown, she let herself be held by him for hours and hours on end, as if he was there for the sole reason of serving her and her tender fragile and frail heart, as if he was nothing more than a servant for her heart.

Not once has he ever felt worse. His heart ached with misery, beating so weakly he was afraid it might stop right there and then, and he'll be left like a stiff lifeless corpse, but in the same time he wished she could hear his heart, as a strange and horrifying calamity washed over him as he looked into her perfect goddess eyes. His soul so foolishly warped around her being without second thoughts and now his mortal vessel was overjoyed for if it will get broken and torn apart, it knew it was all worthy for a being so much lovely and amazing then him.

Even so his soul couldn't help but feel remorse, for it knew that it may not be able to shield her from all of the pains and terrors out there, and it will not always be able to mend and heal her heart, however it has made it's mind, and it will do all in it's power to keep her safe and protected, even if it calls for the demise of another. A curse was the joy that he felt that day.

Everytime she was away from him, he was still with her. In her mind, in her heart, in her soul. She would hum a soft love song as she'd skip along the empty library as she'd dust it off, sometimes twirling on her path like he twirls her in night time when dancing with her. She couldn't help it. It was like she has been gifted the secret to an eternal life without suffering or pain. She would think of him all day long, of his perfect gentle voice, of his strong but sweet presence, of his firm but tender touch, oh how much she yearned to get even a glimpse of him all day long, how she yearned to let all of these words into the world, but she was too shy to do so. What if someone else would hear her words and steal them for themselves, using them to block away what she so desperately carves within her very core? What if someone will get in between them? She simply could not risk it, so when she'd come across him in the corridor, she could only blush as her eyes stayed fixated on his, as if the world around her would disappear and only come back when he had to go. Oh what a lovely blessing he was.

Everytime he was away from her, she was still with him. In his mind, in his heart, in his soul. He would quietly look ahead of him, carrying the trays of empty glasses, as he would sometimes roll a glass from his hand to the other one as a cheap replication of her perfect touch upon his body. He couldn't help it. It was like he has been doomed to have his very being taken away and caged, tormented and tortured in agony. He could think of her all day, and see her everywhere that he looked.

Her perfect angelic voice was heard when the birds would chirp outside, her delicate touch could be felt every time a butterfly would rest for a short while on his hands, her fragile yet empowering presence, everywhere he went, she was there, and by all the stars of the night sky he could never get enough of seeing her in every little thing that surrounded him. How he craved to let her know that she was forever in his heart, and to let this curse out of his soul, but he was too afraid to do so. What if the world would see his never ending love and to make him suffer it would take her away from him? What if he would loose her forever? He simply could not risk it, so when he'd see her across the hallways of the manor, he could only blush ever so slightly with a small smile curling up on the edges of his lips, as if she was the only one in this entire world, and he would only be forced back into this world without her presence when he would have to make his way through to get his work done with. Oh what a terrible curse this was.

'The love for you is forever chained to me, and it is the most gentle of curses and most horrid of blessings that this would could ever place upon me, for you are the only one capable to make me yearn this never ending pain while soothing it with such ease as if it wasn't even there in the first place. For you are the reason that this life is worth living through it's forever torment, just for a glimpse of your shinning presence, to chase away all of my sorrows and pains, to replace them with joy and love. You shake up my soul and torture it beyond anything you could imagine, and like a fool, I only seem to yearn for more, allowing this pain into my very core, for it is this pain that fuels me even more to show you my eternal lasting love, to let you know through shy looks and gentle smiles, with small acts of bravery, compared to this overwhelming feeling, that you are the one and only for my soul, for now and eternity'

The end

#murder drones envy #murder drones n #murder drones v #murder drones

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simplegenius042 · 28 days

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LATE Understand My Ship in 5 minutes, Understand my (Friend)ship in Five Minutes & Kindly Join the Wedding

Tagged by @adelaidedrubman @socially-awkward-skeleton @g0dspeeed @cassietrn @cloudofbutterflies92 @la-grosse-patate @nightbloodbix @onehornedbeast and @inafieldofdaisies

Tagging @strafethesesinners @direwombat @strangefable @softtidesworld @afarcryfrommymain @henbased @carlosoliveiraa @corvosattano @josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather @skoll-sun-eater @minilev @derelictheretic @aceghosts @shellibisshe @shallow-gravy @wrathfulrook @florbelles @purplehairsecretlair @turbo-virgins @yokobai and @red-nightskies

Got a Ship from A Radioactive Calamity of Love, Bombs & Gore, a friendship from The UnTitledverse and a wedding from Far Cry The Silver Chronicles. After this, I should be all caught up in what I've missed, and then I can make my new Pinned Intro Post. Anyway, you can find the stuff and templates below the cut:

Templates can be found below:

#series: a radioactive calamity of love bombs & gore #fallout #oc: ortega “ore” brantley #fallout new vegas #courier six #the courier #oc: ryder #fc: halle berry #ship: ortega “ore” brantley x ryder #the untitledverse #the perfect storm saga #oc: calvin darling #fc: laurence fishburne #oc: mario emmet #far cry the silver chronicles #far cry 5 #far cry new dawn #wip: old dusk #junior deputy #oc: silva omar #fc: mina el hammani #faith seed #fc: kenz lawren #otp: boa lurking in the bliss #ship: silva omar x faith seed #if you're curious who wrote the red “second” on this it would belong azriel #as this would be silva and faith's second wedding because they had their first in the bunker and azriel was both their only attendant #and their temporary officiate of their marriage #second wedding only happened because people were bummed they missed out on it and this time jerome got to officiate the marriage

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pastelwitchling · 1 year

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Max is the number one malex shipper in my opinion. ( Out of the options of Michaels siblings) He's always known it's Alex for Michael, knows Alex is his destiny. He understands Michael's love for Alex just the same way his love for Liz ( even tho I don't ship them). He's always respected that, respected Alex. Max has known since they were kids how Michael feels. Could you write something where Michael realizes that, and is great full that Max completely understands him. Maybe a throw in line of Max saying Alex is the perfect fit for him no one else. 😁

***

“I love your brother.”

Michael looked down from the plant magazine he was reading to where Alex’s head was on his lap, his brow raised. “Some context would be great about now.”

Alex smiled. He’d been scrolling through his phone at what Michael saw were texts between him and Max.

“He’s so cool,” Alex went on.

“Again,” Michael tilted his head. “Context? Before I murder my own brother for what is apparently your torrid affair.”

His husband laughed. “So we’re both reading this book, right? It’s about the son of the president of the United States and the prince of Wales falling in love, and he said that he always thought of me as the prince and you as the president’s son. Couldn’t help it.”

“Sure,” Michael’s lips quirked. “I buy you as a prince.”

Alex rolled his eyes, even as he giggled and his cheeks turned red. “Because I’m your prince?”

“Because you’ve always been royalty to me.”

Alex turned away with a shake of his head. “Whatever.”

Michael plucked the phone out of Alex’s hand and blinked at the passages Max had said where this Alex Cameron-Diaz guy—ironic that he was the Alex in this relationship—sounded just like him. It was one self-deluded joke after another with angry bits here and there that Michael admitted sounded like things he would say.

He pouted. “Why didn’t I know about this little book club?”

Alex raised his eyebrows. “You don’t read.”

“I—”

“And fertilizer catalogues don’t count,” Alex said. Then, as an afterthought, added, “Neither do my songs.”

Michael clamped his mouth shut. “Fair. But I didn’t know you and Max were friends.”

“Are you kidding? I was talking to Max when I wasn’t even talking to you. He’s awesome.”

Michael shifted uncomfortably at the reminder of the distance that had once existed between him and Alex. He pulled Alex in tighter against him by instinct and Alex noticed.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said softly, setting his phone down and sitting up to curl against Michael’s side. “It’s not like we were badmouthing you or anything—”

“I know,” Michael shut his eyes, wrapping his arms around Alex’s shoulders and pulling him in until he could kiss his forehead. “I know, I just hate that I couldn’t be there for you.”

Alex hummed, kissing Michael’s collarbone. “But Max isn’t a bad go-to, right?”

Michael considered that and huffed a chuckle. “You know he was the first one that found out? About us? Kept it a secret all this time.” He looked down at his husband to find his husband looking up at him. “He was the only one that never let me kid myself. When I wanted things to work out with other people, he was the only one that never pretended they would. He wouldn’t support me hurting myself like that. No matter what he was always steering me to you because he knew you were all I ever really wanted.”

Alex’s smile softened and he pressed his cheek to Michael’s shoulder. “I love your brother.”

Michael’s lips quirked. “Yeah,” he said as another message pinged on Alex’s phone. Some other passage about something called a Turkey Calamity. He was surrounded by dorks. “Me, too.”

***

Happy Malex Monday ❤

#alex manes #michael guerin #malex #malex fic #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #tyler blackburn #michael vlamis

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spazzcat · 6 months

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Sundancing. The art of flying close to volatile stars to retrieve solar collector satellites, dodging solar flares and mass ejections in order to provide a vast wealth of clean power to thousands of hungry worlds. It's one of the most prestigious, selective, and dangerous professions in the world, demanding nothing less than constant perfection from the dedicated two-man crews who pilot each ship.

But for Lance Fuentes, the risks are more than worth the reward. As the satellite-grappling 'gunner' of his sundancer team, he has prestige, respect, a cushy berth aboard the SCS Garrison, and a fat paycheck that helps provide for his family planet-side. And more important than any of those things, he has Keith Kogane. The pilot to his gunner, one of the best the program has ever produced, and the love of his life. The person who knows him better than he knows himself, who can read him with a glance, who can predict him and be predicted by him as only sundancer teams can. Nothing can ever be truly perfect, but Lance's life sure comes close.

Until one day everything goes wrong. Without warning, the Garrison and its personnel are in mortal danger, a crisis that threatens to ripple out across every world that depends on the power that she supplies, and with help out of reach it's up to Lance and Keith to try to prevent a bloody calamity. But will their hard-won skills and soul-deep trust in each other be enough? Or will they end up losing everything they love?

#klance #keith kogane #lance mcclain #vld #fanfiction #my writing

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ruewrites · 1 year

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Song of a Mourning Dove

AO3

Ship: Solomon/Asmo

Word Count: 4402

Warnings: Smut

A/N: Promt: Love Affair

It's been a hot second my lovelies! Classes have been demolishing me this semester, but I'm happy I got the chance to participate in this collab! I had the fortune of doing the writing part in collabing with Vera (Instagram @Hanxmura)! Make sure to check out everyone's work for Asmo's birthday! I feel so fortunate to have gotten the chance to work alongside so many talented people 💗

https://twitter.com/OMCollabs/status/1658547871883595778?t=9cZcBBSMCHQlsrftxy738g&s=19 (Go check out the beautiful artwork my collab partner made as well as the other peices that everyone worked so hard on!)

Please enjoy!

Comments are appreciated 💗

A broken nest surrounded by shattered eggs laid hidden in the shadows of the alleyway. Scattered feathers were strewn about, the ruined beginnings of a start that had yet to flourish, forgotten to time as the rain washed away the sins of another. A single soul darted through the rain.

He didn’t understand why.

Hadn’t he loved her?

Hadn’t he given her everything?

Yet he was the one called vile.

Evil.

A Demon.

She might as well have pierced his heart with a blade, that would have hurt less and ended his suffering quicker. Instead he was left wondering with little to reflect on. He felt like he was dying, and yet some higher power demanded that he march on despite one of his reasons for living being ripped away from him.

It became difficult to distinguish what was his own tears and what was from the sky above. In the misty haze of water meeting the concrete, a single lonely light from an inn pierced through the gloomy night.

He wasn’t going home, not tonight. He couldn’t bear to go home after what he had just experienced. He couldn’t deal with the chaos and calamity. Instead he was going to drown his sorrows until both her name and face were nothing but a faint memory in his mind, until her perfume left his senses and her hair was long forgotten from his touch. He would drink until he could finally move on to someone new, to when he could finally find comfort in the arms of a stranger.

****

A lonely dove fluttered down to where the tree cover met the meadow. It bobbed it’s head to one side and then the other before collecting a few twigs in it’s beak and flapping back up to the tree cover, wings much more clumsy on take off. After all, it was easier to meet the ground than it was to leave it. The mourning dove disappeared, the cacophony of birds drowning out any song it would dare to sing this late in the morning.

The gentle summer breeze tickled Asmo's bare arms as the meadow flowers bent upwards. A quiet tiny town was tucked away in the distance, far away from the bustling busy life he was so accustomed to. It was serene, gorgeous, the type of place where you would live in a tiny cottage near the edge of town and walk to the bakery every morning. Every face was a recognizable one and a friend was always nearby. Asmo's eyes threatened to slip shut as he wandered deeper into his little daydream.

"It would be the perfect place to start a life together with someone, don't you think?" Solomon was leaning over him now, head resting on his hand as he laid on his side, "I could have a garden in the backyard, maybe a few things to attract animals too. You would be just like a princess surrounded by all sorts of woodland creatures."

Asmo hummed, raising an eyebrow and letting his eyes wander over to his boyfriend, "You talk as if Lucifer would let you keep me up here."

"I could steal you away," Solomon continued. He plucked one of the flowers scattered around them and twirled it between his fingers, eyes locked on the petals, "Like Persephone and Hades, I could steal you away."

The flower expanded in the sorcerer's hand and transformed into half of a pomegranate, "You don't even have to eat all the seeds."

"Solomon!" Asmo squealed as Solomon leaned closer to him, their lips barely brushing, "Lucifer would kill you."

He couldn't help but whisper, as if his words were secrets even to the wind.

Solomon pulled away enough to scoop at the seeds with his tongue. The action alone made Asmo hold his breath and shudder. It was an offer, an invitation, promises for a future that could belong to him one day. He clutched at Solomon’s cloak, the only thing separating him from the earth below. Solomon had him surrounded, enveloped, and he was giving him an offer he couldn’t refuse.

The pomegranate seeds lingered on his own tongue long after they disappeared, but Solomon tasted much sweeter. They had shared thousands of kisses in the past, and yet ones like these always felt the most scandalous. The chaste ones, the ones where lips lingered just long enough and broke into smiles. They made Asmo blush like a virgin and hide his face in vain. The kiss had started heavy sure, but it evolved into something more, something that had Asmo feeling some type of way. Thoughts that made him hasty and impulsive. Thoughts that he would still be safe within Solomon's presence.

Solomon's love tasted like whisky from a hazy Saturday night and smelt like the lingering smoke from the ghost of a fire. It lingered everywhere he touched Asmo, physically, mentally, and emotionally.

It was a lonely inn in the distance.

It was comfort.

It was home.

It asked Asmo to jump, and Asmo asked 'How high?'.

It was a continuous burning, passionate but also safe and comfortable. It wasn't looking to consume him, but rather to light up his darkness, to keep him warm.

Asmo bit his lip as Solomon's cold hands ran over his back, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Asmo didn't remember sitting up, nor did he remember coming face to face with his lover, foreheads pressed together and the breath stolen from his lungs. Solomon leaned in for one more kiss.

"May I?" he whispered against his lips.

"Darling-"

"Please?"

Solomon kissed him again and brushed gentle touches along his spine, "I want to see all of you, no one will see."

Solomon continued to whisper his request. Asmo let his eyes drift shut as he gave in. His wings unfurled from his back, fluttering as the wind tickled their membranes. And then Solomon's fingers drifted across them.

"Beautiful."

Asmo pulled away from his lover's arms, smiling as Solomon chased his lips. "Explain to me how your hands are still cold out here when it’s so nice?”

His wings fluttered before settling down in a comfortable position, “My wings have goosebumps on them.”

He plucked a few flowers next to him. Fingers weaving on their own accord. Briefly, he caught the look on Solomon's face. His cheeks started to turn the most perfect shade of pink. Of course, Asmo was certain it was a reaction to the coy expression he shot Solomon's way before turning his attention to the flowers in his lap. Humming softly to himself, he folded the stems over each other.

"That's why I have you to keep me warm," Solomon moved closer, wrapping his arms around Asmo's middle and leaning his chin on his shoulder. "You are my Eurydice, and I would follow you anywhere, even into the greatest dangers of them all."

"I think you just want to keep me as your heater."

"Can't it be both?"

Asmo let out a small trill as Solomon ran his hands up his sides, wings fluttering between their bodies. All throughout, his hands remained focused on weaving. Solomon's hands were as cold as ice, and yet they felt wonderful against his skin.

"You're cute."

"And you make the cutest little noises."

"So do you when I get you in bed."

Solomon choked as soon as the words left Asmo's mouth.

Asmo allowed one hand to leave his little project in order for him to reach up and play with Solomon's hair before sliding a finger down the side of his face and down to his chin. He turned his head to the side and smiled against Solomon's lips. "Wouldn't that fit that perfect little idea of yours? Making love to me in a perfect little cottage in a perfect little town?"

Allowing himself to take in the sight of Solomon's perfectly handsome reddening face, Asmo turned back to his little project and tied off the ends. Holding it up in the sunlight, he admired all of the tiny perfect flowers. His wings fluttered as a pleased little purr left his lips.

"Asmodeus-"

"Shush," Asmo clicked his tongue and placed the flower crown on Solomon's head, "My king needs a crown."

"You are unfair, you tease me so cruelly."

Turning around, Asmo cupped Solomon's frowning face, "But I am not too terribly cruel am I? I promise you'll get what I offered you." He leaned in and pressed another gentle kiss to his lips, thumbs running over Solomon's cheeks.

"I never deny you now, do I?"

"Not once ever."

Asmo was far from unfamiliar with sex by the time he became involved with Solomon. Even so, in the beginning their couplings had been a tiny bit clumsy, filled with shaking hands and nervous laughter. Fingers dancing across bodies, mapping every groove and valley to memorize over hours of contemplation. They had made the beginnings of their symphony together with small gasps and words of encouragement, where to direct hands, the most beautiful moans, and tiny messes marking their union on the sheets below.

Sex with Solomon was an experience. It was breathtaking and adventurous no matter how it ended up playing out. Asmodeus was willing to do it however he wanted, because sex with Solomon was a chance to be close with someone he loved. Above all, Asmo felt loved when they engaged with each other. Solomon was an attentive lover, a kind lover. His breath was always hot and shaky in Asmo’s ear.

As he looked at him now, Asmo couldn’t help but catch the tiny sparks of desperation. He wanted him, craved him like nothing he had ever wanted before, and the feelings were more than mutual.

They tripped over their heels as they made their way out of the meadow, giggling and laughing through the town. It was a dance, a chase, and Asmo’s heart was racing. He couldn’t keep the smile from spreading across his face despite the number of people they almost crashed into. Asmo had almost forgotten to reinstate his glamor with the excitement that was racing through him. Their fast paced footsteps clicked against the cobblestone before coming to an abrupt halt in front of a tiny cottage as Solomon grabbed onto his wrist.

“This one,” he nodded, fumbling with a little key in his pocket.

“You never had any intention of returning me home tonight did you?”

Solomon grinned, a few small petals falling from the crown upon his head, “Now why would I return you before spring has come?”

Of course he would continue with his references of tales from old.

The door clicked open and they were falling inside.

Falling…

And falling…

Deeper…

And deeper…

Each kiss was breathtaking.

Each touch was a fire burning brighter.

The bed was only a suggestion, and one they somehow managed to take.

The only thought that remained in his mind was Solomon’s skin against his own and the way their hands fit together so perfectly.

His breath hitched as cold fingers traveled along his sensitive regions. Fangs dug into his lip as his head arched into the pillow. Solomon smiled at him before disappearing between his legs.

Oh if those first few laps from his tongue didn't stroke a fire within Asmo's core.

His thighs squished against his lover's face and his hands went to grab for his silver locks. But Solomon was quick as he lifted himself from his meal.

"I need room to work," he chuckled, pushing Asmo's thighs back down.

"And here I thought you were desperate to cum."

"I can't enjoy a snack?"

"Excuse you! I am at least a full course meal."

Solomon hummed and kissed his inner thigh, "That you are my Dear."

Instead of going back to where Asmo so desperately wanted him, Solomon continued to kiss and nip along his thigh, and down his leg, right to the tips of his toes.

Asmo gave him a small kick, not enough to hurt him, just enough to grab his attention, "Hello, Mr. Hot-and-Bothered, you've got me all hot and bothered back up here."

Solomon gestured towards his throbbing cock, standing proudly as attention between his legs, "You have had me like this, on and off, all week. I think you'll survive if I pamper you for a bit."

Now that was a word Asmo liked.

He laid back down on the pillow and closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of Solomon's lips as they passed over his skin. The way his fingertips played with the strip of highly maintained hair made him shudder. His glamor dropped once more now that there was no risk of being seen by others. He didn't need to cause that type of scene on what was supposed to be a romantic getaway.

He could feel the shape of each hickey Solomon left on his inner thighs, how he would come close to where Asmo wanted him the most just to quickly evade him seconds later. He was throbbing, pulsing, and he wanted nothing more than to have Solomon inside him.

Asmo wiggled his hips and started to thread his fingers through Solomon's hair. He appreciated that Solomon enjoyed foreplay, but he was starting to get antsy.

"Do you want to feel my tongue light you ablaze My Queen?"

Asmo shuddered. Solomon using his mother tongue was playing dirty.

"I would rather feel your cock split me open."

His own words fumbled a bit due to an unexpected, and particularly pleasurable, flick from Solomon's tongue against his most sensitive regions

"But I do love pleasuring you with my tongue," Solomon's hand ran up Asmo's stomach and his breath hitched, "It is pleasurable for me."

"Solomon-"

"But if you'd rather have my magic meat wand rearrange your insides-"

The speed at which Asmo grabbed a pillow and smacked Solomon over the head was almost unbelievable.

"Don't. Hide. Your. Terrible. Terrible. Words. Behind. A. Beautiful. Language!"

Solomon cackled with each accented smack of the pillow to his form.

"And yet you're still turned on."

"I will leave."

Solomon wrapped his arms around his hips and pressed kisses to his side. It was a plea to stay, knowing Asmo would never leave. Asmo tried to stay mad, he really did but when Solomon climbed up his side and caressed his wings. He let out a tiny content trill as Solomon reached the crook of his neck.

"Have you ever seen a magic cock crow?"

Asmo couldn't help but snort.

"Well I don't have that but I can show you how it spurts."

"Solomon!"

Asmo squealed, but his partner held him close.

"And I'm about to cock-a-doodle do you."

"You're not gonna cock-a-do anyone if you get me laughing too hard!"

Solomon grinned and used his other hand to lift Asmo's leg slightly.

"Then may my cock enter the hen house?"

Asmo hummed in thought. The squeal that left Solomon when Asmo grabbed his manhood filled him with nothing but pleasure.

"You know, they also have cows with the hens too, so how about I milk you for all your worth?" Watching Solomon's face darken was all Asmo needed to know he had the reins again. "And they all have to breed too."

Solomon adored him no matter what form he took, and that was part of why Asmo adored him so much.

A hiss and a soft 'fuck' left Solomon's mouth as Asmo started to stroke him. He could feel his partner thrust up into his soft hand, the tip of his cock brushing against where Asmo wanted him the most.

Asmo was in control.

He squeezed his partner's cock and brought it closer to his entrance, allowing Solomon to feel the warmth that could be enveloping him.

"So," Asmo pushed the head in a little further, "Make love to me?"

Asmo loved the way they felt when they were in union with each other. Solomon filled him in the most perfect way, his fluttering walls grabbing onto him and making his human moan.

Milky legs wrapped around the sorcerer, controlling his movements and pulling him in deeper. Solomon was going at his pace, going in as deep as Asmo needed him to to reach all those wonderful spots that had him moaning.

Solomon was panting and whimpering in his ear and it was driving Asmo insane. He couldn't help but nip at Solomon's neck. If Solomon could leave hickeys on his thighs, then his neck was fair game. His fangs always brought shudders out of Solomon.

His hips stuttered and Asmo squealed, back arching off of the mattress.

It was so domestic and hot. Asmo didn't realize two things could be true at once. Lucifer had expected him home, instead he was here, out past curfew and being one with the man he adored more than anything.

The little jokes.

The laughter enhancing the pleasure.

Asmo just wanted to hold him close and stay joined with him forever.

Solomon reached a hand between his legs and Asmo gasped.

"I want you to feel just as good as I do," Solomon breathed, switching to his mother tongue once more, "I want to feel you finish with me."

As if he needed to ask. Asmo tangled on hand into the back of his hair and gripped hard, their thrusts remained steady and precise.

This was personal.

This was sacred.

Asmo felt loved.

Asmo felt secure.

A sharp gasp left his lips and his thighs tightened around Solomon. He could feel that lovely heat reaching its peak. It made him squirm under Solomon to a point where it was his human’s turn to steady him. That lovely pace was becoming agonizing in terms of speed, and he let Solomon know with little nips to his shoulder. On one hand he wanted to reach his orgasm, but on the other hand-

Solomon’s hand sped up along with his thrusts, but only slightly.

Tears started to prick at his eyes as an overwhelming feeling consumed him. It came out of nowhere, smacked into him like a freight train, and became more powerful the closer he came to his orgasm.

“I love you. I love you so much,” Asmo’s words came out softly, softer than he realized what his voice was capable of. Solomon met his gaze and that was when he lost it. It took him a moment to realize that Solomon was also crying, and through the tears there was laughter. There still wasn’t a name for that feeling, but it was mutual and Asmodeus adored it.

Soon after, Asmo finally felt himself tilt over the edge, an airy moan pouring out of his pretty lips. Solomon was soon after, Asmo’s fluttering insides driving him over the edge. With a groan Solomon emptied himself inside of him, giving a few more thrusts before slowing to a stop.

They remained connected, enjoying the feeling of being connected, being one. Asmo squeezed, fearing that if he let him go that Solomon would disappear forever, that he would wake up only to discover that all of this had been nothing but a dream.

No words passed between them. Instead their lips met in a gentle embrace furthering their connection.

“I love you too.”

****

The light he woke up to was the first sign. He had never made it back home to the Devildom. A mourning dove sang its haunting melody from outside the window. He took in the room for the first time. It was cozy, small, and had the most intricate wooden trimming Asmo had ever seen. The sheets were a soft pale blue, he almost would have mistaken it for a gray. They were cool, a perfect contrast to how hot he had felt last night. From somewhere in the room amongst scattered clothing, he heard his phone buzz. He didn’t need to look at the screen to know Lucifer had sent him an inconceivable number of text messages. He would certainly be in for a rather long lecture upon his return.

And he wouldn’t be the only one.

An arm made its way around his middle.

“Stay with me.”

Asmo twisted so that their lips could meet. Solomon was an eager kisser, always one to chase lips and seek out physical affection in private. He was an adorable man, and he was his adorable man. Asmo was smiling into the kiss. What he wouldn’t give to stay in this moment, to stay with his human.

“Lucifer is going to kill you, and lock me in my room for the next millenia,” Asmo whispered in between kisses.

“Then stay. Stay where he can’t reach you.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Asmo pressed one last lingering kiss to his lips before tracing his hand over his cheek, “He’s my family and I love him.”

Solomon’s face fell as he pulled Asmo’s hand to his lips. There was a certain sadness in his eyes that broke Asmo’s heart. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to stay, he did, but he also didn’t want to leave his brothers worried especially not Lucifer.

“Then I shall just follow you.”

Solomon smiled against his skin, “For I am no better than Paris, and I would follow you anywhere, even if it meant certain disaster.”

“You stop that.”

Solomon seemed stunned at his words, eyes wide and staring at Asmo who’s brows were furrowed and dawned a rather serious expression on his face.

“You keep comparing us to tragedies. I don’t like that.”

“They’re all considered love stories Asmodeus.”

“I know, but are any of them happy? Did any of them end up happy? Don’t they all involve some sort of depressing something or other-?”

Solomon snorted, “Depressing something or other-?”

“Well it’s true!” Asmo stood fast in what he did, “Paris died and Helen married some asshole, Orpheus couldn’t save Eurydice, and Hades and Persephone can only see each other for six months out of the year like some weird divorced couple where they don’t want to be divorced but they’re like forced to be. And I don’t want any of that to be us. I actually want this to go well.”

His face softened and tears pricked at his eyes once more as he stared deep into Solomon’s soul, “You are, without a doubt, one of the best things that has ever happened to me Solomon, this is one of the healthiest things that I have ever had. I can’t lose you, because if I do-”

Solomon shushed him and held him close, letting Asmo listen to the steady drum of his heartbeat.

“I see what you mean, I want this to last too Asmodeus. You are an absolute delight and a beautiful shining light in my life,” he hesitated for a moment, biting his lip, debating whether he would actually decide to speak into existence the desires the ran through his mind, “I would- I would very much enjoy if this could be my life with you one day. To come home to your arms every day would be bliss for me.”

Asmo looked up at him. He was so nervous. It was rare to see his witty sorcerer squirm like he was now. He had borne something so vulnerable to him, and now it was completely in Asmo’s hands.

“One day,” Asmo promised quietly, “I would love to make our little house-play permanent, and one day we will. I’m not the one you need to convince.”

Lucifer would not take it well if Asmo dropped that he was moving in with a man he was less than fond of. He would take it even worse if he received the news over text with Asmo already moved in. Asmo liked Solomon in tact and would prefer it if he weren’t strewn into tiny pieces all over the House of Lamentation.

The grin on Solomon’s face could light up the entirety of the Devildom and Asmo could only squeal as he was bombarded with a flurry of kisses. The laugh Solomon let out was beyond joyous, and it was contagious.

“Then I am going to do my absolute best to convince him, so that we can have our perfect little cottage on the end of town,” Solomon promised, “And then we can start a perfect little life together. Until then, do you think you could stay for a while longer? I’m not quite done playing house with you, even if it’s just for a little while longer.”

Asmo thought briefly about all the notifications on his phone, about what could possibly await him for when he eventually had to return home. It would no doubt ruin the perfect mood that he was currently swimming in. But oh the look on Solomon’s face. He was nothing but an adorable puppy in Solomon’s eyes, a puppy that he simply couldn’t ignore.

What harm could exist in staying just a little longer?

It would be wonderful practice for his future.

“I could see myself staying for a little while longer, especially if I get to continue to enjoy my time with you.”

Solomon’s excitement was palpable. A trill left somewhere from the back of Asmo’s throat as he was scooped up and carried out to the kitchen. He couldn’t help but admire his Solomon, the charm of his smile, the strong shape of his jawline, the pact marks that littered his body.

This could really be his life one day couldn’t it?

Mornings spent naked without the slightest ounce of sexual intent, forehead kisses while they waited for coffee and tea to brew, chilly mornings outside the cottage quietly curled up together as they sipped on their cups. Steam rising into the air as the sun cast light on the first tiny drops of morning dew on the grass beneath their feet. Wild flowers hung haphazardly in their hair, plucked from the ground without a word and stuck wherever they would stay.

This life was his.

One day, he would spend all of his mornings like this.

Loved.

Content.

Cared for.

All the while, the mourning dove continued to sing, and hidden somewhere in the trees with a nest and a solitary egg. Soon a second one joined. A simple call and response between two lifelong partners haunting the quiet morning with their lingering melody carried in the light breeze that was traveling through, content with each other, and hidden from the rest of the world.

#asmobdc23 #obey me #solodeus #soloasmo #asmosolo #solasmo #solomon x asmodeus #obey me solomon #obey me solodeus

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