#transformers ashen wings

[junk-jester]

Transformers: Ashen Wings Information Page

For those curious, unaware or just stumbling randomly, welcome. For a good bit now, I've been thinking about writing my own Transformers AU, where I use the figures I collect as the main way to tell its story.

Having been inspired by this post I found completely at random, I'm now going to compile everything I've written down in one place for future ease of reference.

This'll be a long post, too, so I'm putting all this info under a read more cut so anyone who doesn't want to scroll for an hour or so can go right on by.

[Section 1: List of Characters]

The cast of Ashen Wings is split up into four primary factions; Autobots, Decepticons and Terrorcons.

The Autobots are comprised of: -Earthrise/Kingdom Optimus Prime -Legacy Evolution Commander Armada Optimus Prime -Legacy Override -Earthspark Twitch -Legacy Wreck N' Rule Impactor & Spindle -Legacy Bulkhead -Studio Series ROTB Bumblebee -Legacy Arcee -Legacy Evolution Animated Prowl -ROTB Beast Alliance Targetmaster Rhinox -Studio Series ROTB Cheetor -Studio Series ROTB Airazor -Legacy Evolution Nova Prime -Legacy Evolution Junkion Scraphook -Legacy Evolution Junkion Crashbar -Legacy Evolution Junkion TrashMaster -and Legacy United Windblade

The Decepticons are made up of: -Studio Series Gamer Edition WFC Megatron -Studio Series BBM Megatron -Legacy Evolution Tarn -Legacy Evolution Skyquake -Legacy KnockOut -Legacy Armada Starscream -Kingdom Waspinator -Generations FOC Shockwave -Prime RiD Soundwave -ROTB Beast Alliance Targetmaster Skullcruncher -Legacy United Rock Lord Magneous -and Legacy Jhiaxus

And the Terrorcons are made up of: -Studio Series ROTB Scourge -Studio Series ROTB Battletrap -Studio Series ROTB Nightbird -Studio Series ROTB Freezer -Kingdom Paleotrex -Kingdom Ractonite -Kingdom Wingfinger -and Cybertron Sideways

[Section 2: General Worldbuilding]

-In the ancient past, Cybertron was a rather tribal society, where they worshipped two deities; Prima, Goddess of Light, Day, Order and Life, and Unicron, God of Darkness, Night, Chaos and Death. -Ancient Cybertronians believed the two gods, brother and sister, where locked in an endless war, their planet caught in the middle as the two tumbled around each other in the sky above, each and every sunrise and sunset signaling Prima's small victories and defeats in conjunction with her brother. -One day, this balance was interrupted when the Ancient Cybertronians witnessed their first Solar Eclipse, where the planet's twin moons blotted out the sun. Fearing for Prima's safety, they created a series of super weapons known as The 13 to destroy the moons and bring Prima's light back. -The plan worked and the twin moons were destroyed, but at the cost that Cybertron was tidally locked. As one half froze and the other burned, the Ancient Cybertronians pleaded to their Goddess for help. -Prima seemingly obliged, and The 13 would transform before the people's optics, becoming immensely powerful warriors now known as The 13 Primes. The 13 Primes would then undo the damage, making the planet spin once more, before 12 of their members suddenly vanishing without a trace. -The last Prime left behind, Alpha Trion, sought to grant wisdom to his kin and created The Legacy of The Primes, a contingency plan that sought to pass his powers onto future generations of bots so that his wisdom should never leave their side. -In the modern day, the line has continued unquestioned, with Nova Prime-- a well-respected and publicly adored hero figure-- being the latest to carry Alpha Trion's mantle. -However, as the generations have passed, Alpha Trion's wisdom has been increasingly forgotten or omitted and those that bare the Prime title have not sought to teach his ways to their kin, resulting in the formation of the Functionist Council, which seeks to limit and control Cybertronian society by prescribing roles and jobs to bots based on their natural Alternate Modes. Fast cars become racers adored by the public, Jets are enrolled in Air Force Academies to defend Cybertron from alien threats, Tanks are forced down into Cybertron's underbellies, mining for resources in hazardous environments so that the politicians can build golden cities higher and higher.

[Section 3: Important Plot Points]

The story begins as you all may know it, with the Great War on Cybertron.

-Standard Aligned Continuity depiction of Pre-War Cybertron, with a Miner named D-16 (later rebranded "Megatron" by his admirers) fighting for the equal rights of all Cybertronians from the Gladiatorial Pits of Kaon. -Megatron allies with Orion Pax, a librarian at the Iacon Hall of Records, and Ratbat, a Political Senator working on the Functionist High Council. -The three meet, but while Ratbat speaks of violent revolution, Megatron and Orion want more peaceful means to reform the system, preventing the incitement of chaos. -Ratbat, left vindicated by the duo's refusal, bombs and assassinates the Council, gives himself fake injuries, plants evidence and blames Megatron for the attack. -Megatron is shortly arrested, but he knows Ratbat is the real mastermind. His rage swells and he causes a mass riot, rallying other prisoners (such as Soundwave and Starscream) to his cause and escaping, saying that if Ratbat wanted a true violent revolution, then that's exactly what he was going to get. -Ratbat is soon murdered by this group of prison rioters, dubbed Decepticons by a news media outlet, but the chaos wouldn't end with him and the Decepticons would keep attacking everything in sight, despite Megatron's orders to stand down. -As chaos consumed Cybertron and the remnants of the Functionist Military were unable to hold them back, Orion was approached by the ailing Nova Prime, who had sensed his time was coming to an end and a new successor was to be chosen. Naming him Optimus Prime, Nova would pass along the Matrix of Light-- Alpha Trion's dormant Weapon Form-- and everything he knew or had ever been taught. Optimus, with this renewed sense of purpose, would confront Megatron alone. -Megatron was prepared to fight Optimus, calling him a betrayer to everything they stood for, but Optimus corrected him, telling Megatron that he had lost sight of their goals, and if he wanted to truly make things right, he should truly consider long and hard what should be done next now. Megatron, heeding Optimus words, would fly off into space to begin a long process of soul searching among the stars. -Back on Cybertron, without their leader, the Decepticons were left in disarray and most were re-arrested as Optimus sought to get things under control. -Those remaining Decepticons who avoided imprisonment would make a bot named Tarn-- who Megatron considered to be an adopted son-- be their new leader in Megatron's absence. Tarn tried to lead the Decepticons, but found too much pressure on his shoulders, causing him to leave their ranks and flee into space as well. This would land Tarn on Earth, who hid out on the tropical islands of Hawaii. -Shockwave and Jhiaxus, two bots who had been arrested by the Functionist Council for pursuing careers in science instead of the military as ace fliers, would then end up hiring a team of skilled Bounty Hunters-- the Terrorcons-- to retrieve Tarn. In turn, Optimus would send a small team of his own-- the Autobots-- to do the same, led by his own adopted daughter figure, a famous champion racer named Override. -Upon getting to Earth, the two factions would scuffle a bit as they searched for Tarn. Quickly realizing that his team is outnumbered, Scourge, leader of the Terrorcons, would have his allies dig up some dinosaur skeletons and flood them with a nanotech virus, creating the Fossilizers Paleotrex, Ractonite and Wingfinger, as well as their combined mode, Gravesite. -Eventually, the Autobots would find Tarn first and escort him back to Cybertron. The Terrorcons, enraged at losing a major payday, would reveal their true colors as cultists who worship Unicron and were mutated or enhanced by his dark powers, hence why they could revive the dead. They would then begin to take over Cybertron, using more of Unicron's powers to brutally injure Optimus and create a false clone of Megatron, weaving a conspiracy that Megatron had actually been dead this whole time, murdered in cold blood by the cruel and unfeeling Optimus.

Tarn, Override and their remaining Decepticons and Autobots would work together to form a resistance against Scourge and the Terrorcon-controlled Cybertron, but no progress in taking back the planet could be made up until the real Megatron would return from his soul searching.

During his time in space, Megatron would happen upon The Chemical Lenses, the dormant Weapon Form of Alchemist Prime, a master of manipulation over matter and energy, able to transform any one element into another.

However, the Chemical Lenses were infected by Space Barnacles, and in his attempts to clean them off, Megatron himself was infected. Alchemist's ghost, noticing Megatron's plight, saved them both from Space Barnacles. Megatron apologized for his failure, but Alchemist denied the apology, saying he did what he could and that's what matters.

Alchemist would then bestow upon Megatron a special power, but without telling him how to use it, saying only Prima herself could show him, and only when the time was right.

With this new unknown power in hand, Megatron would return to Cybertron, only to see what the Terrorcons had done to the planet. Enraged by their chaos and discord, Megatron would singlehandedly carve a path of death through the Terrorcon ranks, killing his clone, Nightbird and Battletrap before then moving on to Scourge himself.

Scourge was saved at the last minute by Sideways, but not before Megatron had unleashed the power granted to him by Alchemist Prime. Antimatter leaked from his eyes like tears as he reduced Gravesite to atoms and dust.

With the Terrorcons fleeing and scattered, Megatron would then use his power to repair and upgrade Optimus, giving him a Super Mode.

Optimus and Megatron would then work together to rebuild what the Terrorcons had destroyed and unite Cybertron under one banner. Should the Terrorcons ever return, they'd be ready.

[Section 4: Side Stories]

Beyond what the main plot tells, various side stories also take place at various points in the timeline.

During Tarn's stay on Earth, he would witness the battles between Override's Autobots and Scourge's Terrorcons from afar, where it would quickly become apparent that he had fallen in love with her.

Tarn would initially be terrified of this fact, but after being taken back to Cybertron and leading the rebellion against the Terrorcons with her, his love would be actualized, and he would ask her to be his Conjunx Endura by the time of the real Megatron's return.

Before the onset of the Great War, Starscream was a prominent Military General working for the Functionist Council, but was court marshalled and imprisoned when he refused to fire on civilians. When Megatron escaped and the Decepticon Riots ensued, Starscream was at the forefront of the chaos, guiding fellow Seekers in bombing several buildings. However, his longtime Conjunx Endura, Windblade, had been inside one by mere chance and was injured by debris. Windblade would break up with Starscream and swear revenge for his seeming betrayal, causing them both to grow cold and distant, though they would cross swords several times at several points in time. Windblade would eventually find peace after the Terrorcons occupation of Cybertron was removed by training with Prowl in the art of Metallikato, but Starscream hasn't had similar luck. He now roams the galaxy as a vagabond, trying to find any possible way he could apologize to his lost love.

At some point in time, Tarn is visited by the ghost of his future self, taking the form of a Samurai named Bludgeon. Bludgeon tells Tarn that he hails from an alternate future where Megatron fails and is slain by Scourge, and he has become haunted by the action, unable to pass on. Bludgeon demands Tarn not make the same mistakes he did, to prevent that future from taking place, and Tarn agrees, though without clear instruction. Regardless, Bludgeon vanishes into the afterlife, leaving his sword and skull mask behind. Tarn has since begun taking up both, training day in and day out, waiting patiently for Scourge and Sideways' inevitable return.

[Final Section: Misc. Details & Fun Facts]

-Megatron's Antimatter powers gifted to him by Alchemist Prime mix the jagged spines of WFC Dark Energon with the clouds of energy emitting from his eyes of their IDW depiction, making them extremely dangerous and unpredictable.

-Early drafts of the story had Tarn and Override be Megatron and Optimus' biological kids, but it was changed so they're adopted instead so that the timeline makes more sense.

-There is no Ashen Wings version of the DJD or Damus/Glitch. Tarn has always just been Tarn and, likewise, was never corrupted from being Optimus' friend into a worshipper of Megatron. --There was plans initially for an Ashen Wings version of the DJD, but they would've had different code names and group title, but without Hasbro making any Legacy figures of them, they can't be included.

-The plot of there being a conspiracy regarding Megatron's death and the creation of a clone wasn't the initial plan, but things sort of evolved this way when I wanted Studio Series Bumblebee Movie Concept Art Megatron, but had to justify its existence in conjunction with Studio Series Gamer Edition Megatron when I had just gotten that before BBM Megs was announced. --The same line of thinking also applies to Earthrise Optimus and Legacy Armada Optimus, but instead of a clone, I relegated the LA figure to being an upgrade.

In conclusion, that should be everything of note about Ashen Wings. If anyone has any more questions, I'm happy to answer. This AU's plot is also always updating as I expand my collection, so this post will no doubt be updated in time.

For now, however, this is where I'll leave everything off.

#transformers au #maccadam #transformers fan continuity #transformers ashen wings #long post #word vomit #too many characters to tag

[cambion-companion]

The Devil's Bard

Thank you again for this prompt @superfunething :) Raphael is all-too-eager to have his ego stroked.

Raphael x reader (gn) | drabble

You strummed your lute, having sequestered yourself into a private corner of the Last Light Inn. You began tentatively tuning the old instrument, an heirloom of your family. The ashen wood glistened from the flickering firelight, the warmth of the hearth seeping cozily into the wool of your clothes.

It'd been too long since you'd had time and solitude enough to compose a new song. Since you had collaborated with Alfira, in fact. The itch was there, yet your creative mind had been held captive by none other than a fiend. A cambion. Raphael.

The image of his transformation inside that "House of Hope" where he'd whisked you. His promises spoken in a decadent low voice, rough yet soft. Those eyes, both human brown and devil yellow, staring right through all your outward bluster and bravado.

Wood creaked as you shifted your weight in the mahogany armchair, a discordant noise rose up while you strummed your lute in mild frustration.

Anything else. You would rather create your art around anything else. Flowers, the night sky, the Underdark even. Yet the only thoughts pervading your restless inspiration were those of cherry skin, musky fragrance and a sharp knowing smile.

You whispered the words at first, haltingly and quiet, not wanting to draw attention.

"False hope arrived on hidden wing.

To manor cold and haunted bring,

the weary, wandering and spent.

Those carrying a writhing tenant."

You sighed heavily. Now to create music for your lyrics. You began slow, building the base chords and singing the first verse more confidently after a few rounds. For a moment the world and your troubles melted into the background, your focus a blissfully familiar spotlight upon your work.

You felt sudden pressure as a firm hand gripped your shoulder.

"Hello, my lark." Raphael spoke from behind where you sat, the weight of his gaze upon your head. "As irresistible as the harpy's song, so I too had to investigate what music you were weaving."

He moved around you. Careful measured steps, till he looked down upon you and you up at him. His warm brown eyes caught the glow of firelight as he measured your blushing cheeks and the way you gripped your instrument.

Raphael tilted his head, in an amused air. "Those lyrics rang so familiar." He smiled, that knowing smile you remembered so well. "Almost as though I am the muse behind your making, but that would be presumptuous."

You grimaced. "Speak of the devil."

"Ah, so your little song is about me." Raphael seemed genuinely tickled by this and he chuckled and clapped his hands together once. He took the seat opposite you and slung one of his legs over his other thigh. "Do, please, go on! I so enjoy the extolling arts, especially when revolving around myself."

"What are you doing here, Raphael?" You raised a brow and glanced over your shoulder just in time to see little Mol look away.

"Business, as usual." Raphael leaned forward slightly, his own gaze never deviating from your firelit face. "The richest bounties can be found in the most desperate little havens. But you've learned that already." He smiled, a little sharply. "My most illustrious client. You've sent many souls skittering directly to my door."

"Maybe I should compose a song of warning to stay away from strange men wearing frilly collars." You bit out, your eyes narrowing as you tried again to see where Mol had disappeared to.

"That's the spirit!" Raphael chortled again and gestured graciously to your lute. "Spirit you have in such brilliant abundance, little lark. I find you ever more delightfully ebullient."

"A compliment, were it not for your nature." You said, a little terse of tongue now, growing uncomfortable with how attracted to this fiend you were becoming.

"Does it keep you up at night?" Raphael frowned, a hint of mockery in his cadence. "Tossing and turning upon that cold, hard ground. Desperate to dwell upon anything but the devil in your corner. Oh, come now." His hand found your knee and pressed you back down as you shifted to stand up. "Indulge me! We are friends. After all, what else are little birds for? Sing me your sweet song while I devise for you a safe, gilded cage."

#raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #raphael drabble #bg3 drabble #raphael x reader #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael fanfic #raphael bg3 fic #baldurs gate 3 x reader #raphael x you

[vgilantee]

dear devoted delicate {xavier thorpe}

xavier thorpe x reader

requested: by my beloved julie @websterss <3

words: 2.2k

a/n: the reader is an outcast of an unknown type, but not a werewolf. i love werewolves, but because of some of the setup, it's gotta be a non-werewolf reader. also i went a little off-prompt but it's still the same in essence, and all the important bits are included, just shuffled up a little. oh and yes the title is a line from the song older, but i used it mostly because dear is a sweet petname, and butterflies have delicate wings. i think i'm clever. oh and if you're new here, i hate writing dialogue and it shows in this also if you want to see some really cool drawings of poisonous plants, send me an ask (please) because one of my favourite things ever are vintage botanical drawings (this will make sense in a minute dw)

warnings: n/a. just some sweetness. there is swearing though so idk if that counts as a warning

pronouns: she/her (maybe she/they? i can't remember if i threw in a 'they' lmao)

Once a month - sometimes twice if you were incredibly unlucky - you were kicked out of your room for two days while your roommate had a handful of her younger cousins over. 

Before Nevermore, you loved the full moon. Now you had a love-hate relationship. You still loved the moon itself, but you never enjoyed showing up at your friend’s dorm, backpack over your shoulder and sleeping bag tucked under your arm, sheepishly asking if you could once again sleep on their floor. You could, in theory, go back to your room to sleep as your roommate and cousins wouldn’t be there, instead transformed into wolves and galavanting around the woods. But in your second month at Nevermore, you did that, and woke up to a room full of the less-than-dressed human werewolves, some of whom had chosen your bed to curl up on, with you still in it. Never again. 

Full moons on the weekend were the worst. With no classes to occupy your time, you often found yourself moving from place to place around campus to find somewhere you could hide out before getting bored and moving on. 

Xavier watched as you jogged past the archery field, headphones in and running shoes muddied. It wasn’t unusual to see you go past during club practice, though you tended to avoid it after a downpour. He’d asked you about it once, after seeing you in the library one rainy Saturday afternoon.

“My room already smells like wet dog at the best of times, I’m not going to add to that.” Your voice was light with humour; you adored Sofi and she always made sure to not bring in any smells with her. But the comment stuck with Xavier and the next time you were sat next to each other in Torture through History, he sketched out a wolf before moving his hand to bring it out of the page. You giggled quietly as the ashen wolf shook itself, small flecks mimicking water coming off, then curled up next to your hand. You had smiled down at it fondly as it fell asleep before dissolving into charcoal dust, leaving a light smudge on your hand. Xavier watched you and pretended not to notice the warmth that came to his face as you looked up at him, the fond look still in your eyes. 

“Xavier, are you going to take your shot? Or you just going to keep staring at ‘em?” He shot up a middle finger over his shoulder before turning to follow its movement to see his club mates smirking over at him. 

After ducking into Ash’s room to change into more comfortable clothes, you make your way down to the library. Ash was generally the most reliable for having space on their floor for you to crash, the thin roll-out mattress a permanent feature in the beanbag corner of the dorm. 

On your way, you detour to your room to kick your muddy runners under your bed, though not before making an ‘I’m watching you’ motion toward a curled-up Sofi with a smile. 

It wasn’t uncommon for couples to be hidden away in the library, especially not on an overcast weekend. But the Grimmstone library was the only library on campus that held an original copy of an 1800s toxic botany encyclopaedia. 

After a few false turns with quick apologies to the interrupted couples, you finally found the right - and luckily empty - aisle. With your forefinger running gently along the worn spines, you made your way down the rows of books, glancing at the names of authors until you found the one you were looking for. 

After carefully sliding the hardcover book off the shelf - nearly dropping it as the loose plastic dust cover slipped - you sat down at one of the desks lining the centre of the room and began flicking through. You flicked the book to the back, finger running down the yellowed page until you reached the name you were looking for: aconitum.

----

“Big scary werewolf and you’re afraid of a little butterfly?” You laughed as you wandered into Plant Toxicology with Sofi. 

“It flew right into my face!” She waved her free hand in front of her, mimicking the butterfly’s movements. 

“And you squealed!” As you laughed, Sofi gently hip-checked you, nudging you toward your usual desk, before laughing with a shake of her head and walking toward her own. You nodded hello to Yoko as you sat beside her. 

“Alight, class. Group paper time.” The sounds of groans and heads hitting tables bounced around the room. “I know, I know. Now, rows one and three, turn around and give a little wave to your partner.”

----

You were hours early to meet your study buddy, but it was a non-issue. The time alone allowed you to make meticulous notes on the plant before worrying about formatting them into a presentable paper. 

The notes you made were messy, quick dot points from the encyclopaedia that could make into a decent assessment. The paper was only short anyway, the first report of the semester that was more of a benchmark than a large percentage of your grade. 

Headphones in, it wasn’t long until you found yourself with your feet up on the seat and book resting open on your thighs, reaching around your bent knees to occasionally take notes. 

You were in the middle of triple-checking the spelling of a latin nomenclature when a flit of grey out the corner of your eye caught your attention. But as you turned your head to see what it was, all you could see was another couple darting down an aisle, whispering to each other. You shook your head with an amused exhale before turning back to your note-taking. 

Just as you leaned forward to take a note, you saw the grey again. But this time, instead of a moment at the side of your vision, the grey moved in front of you just long enough to make out the shape of a butterfly before it landed on the tip of your nose. 

Cross-eyed to stare at the charcoal insect, you pulled out the headphones slowly, trying not to disturb it. You knew it wasn’t real, recognising the trademark sketch lines of Xavier’s art. 

Another pair of butterflies began to flutter in front of you, bouncing off of each other with tiny plumes of dust. You let out a small giggle and the bug on your nose darted away, flying right into the other two where all three of them exploded into a shower of dark powder onto the desk. Once the last of the dust landed, you turned quickly to look over your shoulders, dropping your feet to the floor, trying to find the artist.

You met Xavier’s eye as he folded his sketchbook closed in his right hand. His head was tilted with a smile as he made his way toward you, backpack slung over his shoulder. 

“Howdy, howdy partner.” You wriggled your fingers to wave as he pulled out the chair beside you, dropping down and letting his bag fall to the floor. As he did, you noticed that Xavier’s pulled-back hair was a messy damp, the kind that comes with being caught in the rain. 

“Started the fun without me.” He gestured lazily to your notebook and the two thick library books in front of you (at some point during your research you wandered back to the shelf and found a second book with information on the deadly plant).

“Wanted to make you jealous, of course.” You shot him a wink with a small giggle, turning back to your book just in time to miss the tips of Xavier’s ears go pink. “The butterflies were definitely a welcome distraction though,” you thanked, turning in your chair to face him fully, “I felt like I was going cross-eyed staring at these pages.” 

“I’m happy to distract.” Xavier sent you a dopey smile and raised one hand to flatten down flyaways, and you bit the inside of your lip while ignoring the warmth that grew on your face. In your attempt to break eye-contact and hopefully get rid of the blush, your gaze flicked down to his mouth and caught him licking his lips. 

Almost in sync, you and Xavier looked away from each other and as you looked over at the textbook, you heard him clear his throat. 

“Okay, so,” Xavier broke the silence after a moment, “what have you got so far?”

You quickly delved into giving him a rundown of the notes you had made so far, explaining ideas you had come up with for it. However, you made a point of not looking up at him. It was a little awkward at times, where you would catch yourself beginning to look at him but quickly found a drawing of the purple flower far too important to not look over at. 

Neither of you noticed that the sun had set until the howls of classmates made their way from this distance, the sound causing both of you to turn and look out the window. 

“Shit, I didn’t realise how late it had gotten.” During the week, there was an 8pm curfew, but over the weekend library hours were extended and they were a little more lenient with the time you had to be back at your dorm giving you until midnight to be back. There was just one downside to being in the library late.

“Oh my god we missed dinner.” Xavier sounded devastated at the realisation, and you looked over to see him with the back of his hand pressed dramatically to his forehead. 

“You hungry?” It wasn’t long past dinnertime, but because of the routine that came with living at Nevermore, you knew the answer would be yes. “I may or may not have some snacks hidden in my dorm.” He perked up, and though he would never tell, he was more than a little excited to be spending more time alone with you.

---

Xavier sat awkwardly on your bed as you kicked off your shoes and began to pull a box out from under your bed. Pushing some heavy clothing out of the way, you pulled out a bag of chips and a couple of packets of sweets. 

“It’s not really a dinner, but it’s food.” You showed him the food you had stashed, offering it weakly. Xavier scooched himself onto the floor, patting the space beside him and you sat yourself down cross-legged. 

As Xavier pulled open the chip bag, you sent Ash a message saying you might be over late, but would try to be as quiet as possible. They sent back a thumbs up, and you shoved away your phone just in time for the chips to be held out in front of you.

Between the sweets and bag of chips, you and Xavier managed to talk about anything that came to mind as time quickly moved by. During your time, both of you got more relaxed, losing any vague semblance of good posture and leaned against the side of your bed. And maybe closer to each other, but only maybe. 

Xavier pulled his sketchbook out of his backpack and leaned forward, listening to you talk as he drew. He hid his sketchbook from you as you tried leaning over him, giggling into his ear as you did. 

You let your body flop onto the ground beside him, staring up leaning on your hand as he readjusted how he was sitting to keep hiding what he was drawing from you. Then he tucked his pencil behind his ear and held his hand above the page. 

Lifting up with a rain of dust, a dozen small butterflies began to flit around your room. They bounced off each other, spinning in circles as they danced.

Much like the interruption of howls earlier in the evening, you are brought back into reality by the buzzing of your phone against the hardwood floor. 

“I don’t mean to stop you from whatever you’re doing,” Ash skipped the greeting as you answer the call, “but if you’re sleeping here tonight you might want to think about showing up soon.” 

“Hello to you too.” Sitting up properly, you watched Xavier as he turned on his phone screen and showed you the time, and you widened your eyes. “Oh fuck. Okay, thanks, Ash. Be there soon.” Xavier stood first, offering you a hand to pull you up which you happily took pretending not to notice the way he squeezed your hand shortly when you stood.

“I can walk you over if you want.” You were already shaking your head at the offer, knowing that you would be cutting it thin getting to Ash’s dorm and Xavier’s dorm house was in the opposite direction.

“No, it’s okay. I don’t want to be the reason you get in trouble.” He held the door open for you, leaning on the outer frame. As he pulled it shut his arm brushed your side. 

There was a beat of silence as neither of you wanted to move. Although you had spent the night hanging out, the softness in that moment was different and not something you wanted to break.

Steeling yourself for a moment, you darted forward and kissed Xavier on the cheek, turning and beginning to walk away before you could see how he reacted. 

Xavier watched as you moved quickly away, his cheeks and ears pink, He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times trying to figure out how to react. Once you disappeared around the corner, he let out a breath and sheepishly smiled to himself.

comments and reblogs are appreciated! as are asks about the fic!

rambles, feel free to ignore: this fic isn't… okay so i hold myself to very high standards which is a problem with my brain and things, and i need to stop doing that because i end up giving up on things that aren't perfect instead of appreciating that i have made something and it's mine and from my brain. again, a problem i need to sort out. but all this being said!! by my self-imposed standards this isn't amazing, and really i'm posting it as a "here! it's done! take it before i take it back and destroy it!" and that's only happening because it was a request from a mutual.

tl;dr: these rambles are more to say that i like this fic, and i'm happy enough with it, but my standards are so high that i don't think it's good enough. which is a common thing with creatives and just know that what you make is good because it's yours and you made it, and that's all that matters!

#char rambles #char writes #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x you #xavier thorpe x y/n #reader insert fic #xavier thorpe fanfic #xavier thorpe oneshot #xavier thorpe blurb #char's mutuals #˚:✧｡• julie #xavier thorpe reader insert

[jack-the-nibbler]

Voretober Day 6: Comfort/Bet

You're quite the horror lover and thought that you would have little problem spending a few hours in an abandoned castle. Unfortunately, it wasn't quite abandoned...

Why had you decided to take this dare? That question repeated itself in your head again and again with each step you took towards the entrance to the castle. For centuries, your town had circulated rumors that a vampire count lived in the dismal keep that towered some distance from the town. You were a bit of an urban legend and horror junkie, and had tried to do your fair share of research on the history of the castle.

In the week leading up to Halloween, some of your friends had dared you to visit the keep and try to find the vampire that lurked there. It seemed fun at first, and appropriately spooky, but the drive there had you filled with doubt. After all, there was a difference between saying and doing. But the place looked stable enough up close…you’d be in and out. Just an hour or two hour adventure. Right?

Equipped with your phone, a flashlight, a water bottle, and snacks, you swallowed your nerves as you stepped up the stairs to the massive, oak doors. One of them was open just a crack, giving you enough space to shimmy your way inside. The inside was appropriately massive; there was a surprising lack of dust or debris for an abandoned keep. Moonlight flitted in through the windows, illuminating a long, red rug leading down a vast hallway.

Heading down the main hall, you gazed at a line of portraits hung up along the walls. Each one depicted men and women with ashen flesh, white or silver hair, and fancy clothes in red, black, and gold colors. It really did feel like you were in some vampire movie. You chuckled softly to yourself, half expecting a swarm of bats to burst out of nowhere.

Each room of the castle seemed to be well maintained. You’d honestly been expecting something more spooky and dilapidated. Who was keeping this place up and running? Was some dedicated preservationist camping out here, or repeatedly making that drive up the mountain road? As you stepped into what looked like a parlor, your eyes traveled over the plush furniture, blood red rug, golden candelabra holding flickering candles…

Wait a minute…that candelabra was lit. If this place was abandoned, then where did the fire come from? The sound of footsteps made you freeze. Either that was another explorer, a thief, or this place really wasn’t vacant. You looked over to the nearest hallway, trying to think of what you might say to this stranger. But when the man stepped into the parlor, all possible words left your mind.

The man was about eight feet tall, as pale as the people in the portraits and having messy silvery hair. He wore an incredibly ornate coat and suit; red, gold, and black, decorated with bloody rose pins and shiny rubies. He wore an equally fancy top hat with a golden bat pin, and long, thin batlike wings extended out from his back. His blood red eyes sized you up, his pointed ears perking up.

“Ahh…a visitor? I haven’t had any visitors in quite a long time…” he said. “Welcome to my home, dear. Please, don’t be so afraid.” But you were frozen. The vampire was real…here, in the flesh, and you were an intruder and likely prey. Fear and instinct kicked in, and you turned and fled back down the way you came. Screw the bet, you weren’t being drained tonight!

“Wait! Please, don’t run!” he cried. But you ignored him, trying to find your way back to the entrance. As you dashed around corners and through hallways, it quickly became apparent that you were lost. The moment you stopped to catch your breath, a large, silver bat flapped up before you, instantly transforming into the vampire you’d just fled from. “I’m sorry, but I cannot let you leave just yet!” he exclaimed, towering over you.

The Count’s ruby-red eyes suddenly glowed. You cowered back under his intense stare; he somehow seemed taller now, growing by the moment. Looking down at the floor, you realized that it was getting closer. He wasn’t growing-you were shrinking! You turned to run again, but the Count grabbed 

“There we go…it’ll be okay, luv,” he said softly, gently petting your head with his thumb. “I’ll just tuck you away for a bit…keep you close to me…” You wriggled in his hold, trying to make sense of his words…and then he held you up and opened wide. The candlelight caught on his fangs, glinting like ivory spears.

“No! Don’t eat me!” You cried. The Count only gave you a soft look before slipping your legs into his mouth. You froze in fear of being sliced on his razor sharp fangs. You shuddered at the feeling of his saliva soaking your pant legs, his tongue sliding against your lower body. All you could do was watch helplessly as your feet slid into his throat.

The vampire was slow and gentle as he slipped you further into his mouth. Your hips slid past his lips, your legs engulfed by his throat. You tried pressing against his lips, but he slurped in your belly, then your chest, leaving only your head visible. The tip of his tongue slid out and curled around your head, pulling you all the way inside.

Your fate was sealed as the Count’s mouth closed behind you. You were up to your hips in his throat, your back pressed against his tongue. Now that you were completely inside, the Count was swallowing you faster, pulling you closer to your slimy doom. Your struggling did nothing to make the vampire spit you out. You tried to grab onto his uvula, but your hands slipped from the fleshy tab. One last strangled cry left you as you were engulfed by the pulsing abyss.

You clawed at the slimy, squishy walls of the vampire’s gullet, one more futile attempt to save yourself. You felt your devourer shudder, his fingers pressing against the bulge in his neck. It was a long, constricting slide down to his stomach, and by the time you were squeezed inside, you felt like your very bones had been beaten.

Shivering, you took out your flashlight and looked around. It was a pink, balmy pouch, about the perfect size to hold you. As if you belonged here. You curled up, whimpering, especially as the Count started to rub you from outside, as if you were just a snack to him.

“I’m…I’m sorry, my dear…I shouldn’t have done that…” he murmured, gently stroking over you. “For decades it has been only my butler and I, and the loneliness has been crushing. I promise not to hurt you…and I will let you go before sunrise. I hope that you can forgive me.”

You laid there in shock. He wasn’t going to hurt you? He did sound genuine…not to mention deeply sorrowful. You tried to think of what it would be like to essentially be alone for possibly hundreds of years. Perhaps you’d be just as desperate for company. And you had to admit, it was surprisingly warm and cozy inside this undead creature’s stomach.

Hearing the Count starting to weep, you reached over to gently rub the stomach walls. He froze, shocked. But he slowly started to purr, rubbing over you in return. He’d spent countless years longing for affection. For the first time in so long, he felt loved…even if just a little. “Thank you, my dear…” he murmured.

You smiled softly, nestling into one of the stomach folds as you rubbed him more. This really wasn’t so bad. Come morning you would likely chew out your friends for putting you through this. But at the same time, you would surprise the Count with quite a few visits after this. Perhaps more than one where he happily tucks you away again.

#soft vore #safe vore #nonfatal vore #male pred #unwilling prey #vampire pred #halloween vore #voreville voretober #voretober #prey pov #pov vore #I was supposed to post this last year lmao #vore writing

[rawcalamity]

It lumbers through decrepit hallways beneath a grave of steel and concrete, yearning to feel the suns touch once more. This beast hungers for escape as it claws its way through piles of ashen debris; untamed hatred being all that fuels its resolve. Home to the biologically engineered terror is a facility desolated and sunken, long gouged of the brilliance it once fostered within its laboratories. It was mans greatest ambition that befell their untimely demise, for the suns ardent flames were far too much for such fragile wings to bare. Each ambitious vision is a monster now fated to walk this earth alongside man, no longer held to a leash by their masters. Project-2 was an anomaly retrieved from [DATA EXPUNGED] Upon recovery, scientists at Tdo.Inc performed an autopsy of the specimen and concluded that it was of extraterrestrial origin. Tdo.Inc sought to transform this fascinating discovery into a weapon of war, and so through technological aid they revived its lacerated corpse. Humanity was truly foolish to believe that such a wicked beast could be tamed even after death.

#art #pixel art #creature #creature concept #world building

[chiconisroc]

"Hope In Hell" Hazbin Hotel - April fools prank

I pulled a prank on my readers today for april fools : ), made peeps think the update I did was for chapter 16. I'm planning to delete the april fools chapter since I'll be updating the actual chap 16 tomorrow, but someone wants me to post it up somewhere else, so gonna post it up here, in case others were curious on the prank:

Vaggie didn’t waste to think things through as she jumped through the portal just before it closed on her.

And she couldn’t help but grow confused when she found herself in some dark tunnel, though, behind her was solid black wall.

She could have sworn that she had seen trees just before she got into the portal. Unless…somehow, Lucifer had at the last second, teleported her to another location?

“Lucifer?” she called out down to the dark end of the tunnel, but she received no response in return, though… she saw something in the darkness shift. Cold dread made its way through her soul when slowly, a red smile emerged from the shadows.

Immediately, Vaggie conjured her spear and got into a defensive stance, ready for any oncoming attack, but the red glowing, twisted smile simply began to fade away.

Vaggie cursed under her breath and began to slowly move forward – she had no other choice, after all.

As she moved, she expected whatever was in the shadows to jump at her, but nothing happened as she continued the path that eventually led to a bright opening, the exit.

She felt relieved when she stepped out, but then blinked when she glanced around her surroundings to see unicorns flying up in the sky above her, cotton candy growing out of the tree’s branches, and small cute little rabbits jumping in an out from the bushes.

And in front of her, was Adam, just standing there, with gold wings instead of the dark ashen ones.

“Adam?” Vaggie couldn’t help but call out to him, but he didn’t respond, nor did he move.

She tightened her grip on her staff and gradually made her way up to him.

“Hey, where the hell are we?” she asked, but again, he remained silent.

She stopped a few feet from him, then suddenly, he twirled around to her, making her eyes widened in shock when she was met with some blue horsed face with a bright big smile.

“Hey, Vaggie!” the creature said with glee. “I’m so glad you’ve finally decided to join us! Now, it’s time for you to become one of us!”

Vaggie had no idea who the creature was and what it meant by its words, but suddenly, she felt a strange sensation run from her toes to her head.

She looked down and was shocked to see her feet were now shaped of a horse hoof.

“What the fuck is this?” she exclaimed before her hands began to shake and slowly morph as well into hoofs.

“I told you, it’s time for you to become one of us!” the blue horsed face creature laughed and Vaggie looked up at him with a mixture of confusion and fear while other floating horses began to descend around her.

“One of us, one of us,” they began to chant with excitement.

“No, wait, stop,” Vaggie cried out as her body twisted and turned, making her scream in agony as she fell to her knees. But then after a minute, she fell silent before she finally looked up, her face a shape of a smiling horse as well, becoming one of them.

#adam #hazbin hotel #vaggie #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel fanfiction #writing #writers #adam hazbin hotel #archive of our own #fanfiction #fandom

[heavenprotect]

⸻ 𝐅𝐅𝐕𝐈𝐈 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 - 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄

𝐌𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌.

⸺ similar to his main verse, steve can transform into a humanoid monster-like form–his skin turns into an ashen gray colour, darkened vessels and arteries, and chitinous growths covering parts of his body as a form of rudimentary armor. his hair turns silver grey in colour and the length extends down past his shoulders to the middle of his back. he also grows out two sets of wings, similar to a dragonfly’s, out from his upper back, giving him the ability to fly.

in this form, his strength, speed and durability greatly increases, all the while he maintains his intellect and free-will. the only exception to this was his first transformation as he was briefly overwhelmed by jenova’s influence and didn’t gain back control until he confronted freya. his blood also bursts into flames when exposed to the air around him, but fortunately that only seems to happen while in his mutant form.

it’s due to his cetra heritage ( his great-grandmother on his mother’s was a full-blooded cetra ) that saved him from becoming a mindless, brainwashed sephiroth-clone. however, it’s still unsure what exactly happened for his body to have such an adverse reaction to the jenova cells and mako infusion.

for now, this form is only known to himself and freya, he’s skilled enough as a mercenary to not rely on it.

due to his body undergoing changes from hojo’s experiments, steve has developed a decent amount of resistance to fire and electricity.

steve can absorb materia into his body, even though he is already capable of performing magic without the need for them. however it is limited and the materia provides a much needed boost.

𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐒.

⸺ regardless whether in his monster form or human, steve gained the ability to create and manipulate all forms of plants, including wood, vines, moss, etc. with this he can perform both defensive and offensive techniques and is able to create semi-sentient plantlike creatures.

he doesn’t often utilize this out in public or when he’s on a job that has him working with other individuals, but if he happens to be spotted, steve just often explains that he inherited a rare form of materia from his family.

because of his plant manipulation abilities, steve tends to carry seeds on hand in order to create his summons.

steve likes to collect seeds and has a collection of them at home in sector 7, he also maintains a small and very private garden inside his apartment. a lot of his furnishings have been replaced to hold plant beds or potted plants, since he doesn’t get much guests and often prefers to hang out over at seventh heaven.

whenever a job takes him out of midgar, he often pays one of the neighbor to go and water his plants.

anywhere he travels, steve often likes to collect a souvenir for the first time visit. often it’s a plant from the region but nowadays he will collect the seeds as it’s easier for transport.

𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐓𝐈𝐃𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐈.

had a crush on cloud before the nibelheim incident but never acted upon them due to him undergoing his transition at the time and cloud eventually leaving town.

though he has bright red head, steve also has a streak of silver-white near his right temple. it’s rarely noticeable when his hair is down but when he does up his hair in a bun or ponytail, it can be clearly seen.

though he generally tends to take jobs that have him fight monsters, steve is also naturally talented with computers and is occasionally hired to hack and steal information. he is also tech-savvy enough that he can forge IDs that allow people to go topside and safely pass through checkpoints.

works occasionally with avalanche and tends to hang out at seventh heaven. it’s where he gets a lot of his jobs and avalanche is always willing to hire.

doesn’t use weapons and primarily fights unarmed, relying on his enhanced condition to fight monsters, only using his plants for support.

#「 ☀ 」 ╱ headcanon. #「 ☀ 」 ╱ v. final fantasy seven i. #/ working on a version where #/ steve is a turk fmdklsgmkds

[cypriathus]

Here is my version of Dumah/Azrael!

Dumevoziah is a hybrid between a chalkydri and a destroying angel that shows an uncompromising resolve and cold-hearted aloofness to almost everyone around him. He’s able to endure pain and personal hardships without showing his true emotions and complaining. He’s strict in his conformity with what’s morally upright, and has a good reputation due to his honest and fair actions that are worthy of respect. He possesses an unforgiving nature towards sinful people and shows a strong desire to seek revenge for those who have been unjustly wronged. Despite his uncaring and fearsome nature, he’s capable of sympathy and providing generous assistance to those who need help. He likes to safely guide souls to their respective afterlifes and provide solace towards those suffering from the loss of a loved one. He’s disturbingly fierce towards those who don't feel remorse for their wrongdoings, going as far to heavily mutilate them and forcibly take their souls to Nifjazroghetus. Whenever he receives physical affection and verbal praise, it sexually turns him on for some reason he doesn’t understand and begins to act all flirty and adorable. Dumevoziah has a strategic and life-appreciating mindset, and is sardonic, extremely patient, and surprisingly chill.

Dumevoziah’s height is close to 8’ 2” (248.92 cm) and he has a mesomorphic body type with a trapezoidal figure, a semi-gaunt torso, an average musculature, and broad shoulders. He has ashen skin with chapped lips, black claws and talons that are partially rounded, and sickly bluish and purplish blushing on his joints. He has twelve red kite wings, a lion’s tail, and two heads; that of an ethereal human male (right) and a smooth-fronted caiman (left). His human head has long shimmering creamy white hair with messy waves and clementine eyes with Persian green pupils, flecks of metallic blue, and purplish-black sclera. He dons a dragging, slightly tattered, long-sleeved cloak of dark purple feathers with a dull yellow-orange sheen. He wears a cuirass of white porcelain with fancy lavender foliage patterning, silver edging, and raven feathers protruding from underneath the bottom and arm holes. He wears a medium-sleeved metallic orange tunic that has blood stains and a mid-calf sirwal of royal blue cotton. He also has a partially moth-eaten waistband of green gold velvet and a pair of slip-on, cork-soled wolfskin shoes. He’s armed with a 12 ft (365.76 cm) fiery rod covered in a thousand pitch black eyes and it has a jagged scythe blade of pure tungsten. Dumevoziah carries an old papyrus scroll concerning the fate of mortals, recording and erasing their names at birth and death.

People have described his true form as being so terrifyingly awful that a mere sight of it can cause instant madness and swift, anguishing death to humans, Ufrajozlens, low-ranking demons, and weaker monsters. Those who caught a glimpse of his form and weren’t driven mad say that he’s shrouded in misty darkness. He’s a blue-coloured ram with an immense size and four charcoal-skinned humanoid faces that are unmoving and cold. He also has four thousand red kite wings, twisted coppery horns, and eyes and tongues for every mortal alive in the multiverse.

He can manipulate the essence of death, the souls of the newly deceased, silence, the threads of fate, vindication, and retribution. He can give the righteous a swift and painless death to ease their mortal suffering, while giving sinners an agonising and slow death. He has absolute knowledge over life and death, astral dream-walking, psychokinesis, necropresence, and transcendent mastery over swordsmanship. Dumevoziah can transport souls to their respective afterlifes through portals of cleansing fire and trails of golden or withered wheat. He possesses omnilegence over the names and fates of mortal beings, and supernatural durability, endurance, intelligence, strength, stamina, and senses. He can transform into a being of living rainbow energy and aid in running the Sun’s course around the Earth to bring heat and dew.

FAMILY:

Unknown

ALIASES/NICKNAMES:

Dumah

Azrael

Angel of Stillness and Vindication

King of Atrocious Skulls

FUN FACTS/EXTRA INFORMATION:

He’s heteroromantic

As an Æylphitus, his name means “silence”.

He’s the avatar of a vengeful death god

Tens of thousands of destroyers serve under him

Through the use of his unique vision, he can easily identify who’s either righteous (circled in soft light) or sinful (circled in harsh darkness).

He has a loud, solemn, and terrible voice

He secretly finds grief and physical pain to be unnerving

He often hangs out underneath an ash tree that has leaves bearing the names of each mortal or on a razor-sharp bridge of rose gold and silver located in Saturn of The Contemplatives.

He likes to make simple clay people and animals during his free time

He finds a lot of comfort and amusement when hanging out with Usraphoniel, Uyrenolahi, and Gubaszoriel. However, he’s terrified to be around Mikhazorsvel because of his extreme aggression and clinginess to Gubaszoriel.

His favourite flowers are geranium, goldenrod, heather, honeysuckle, hyssop, thistle, and lady’s slipper orchid.

#writerscorner #creative writing #writing #original character #personality #physical appearance #outfit #abilities #power #angel #chalkydri #destroying angel #destroyer #vindication #death #stillness #dumah #azrael #fun facts #extra information

[foxglovefables]

New Chapter Tomorrow!

The next chapter of Burnt Feathers comes out tomorrow! Here's the link to the work:

In the meantime, here's chapter 1 for your viewing pleasure if you don't want to click the link:

(CW: Violence, allusions to self harm)

The ground stopped holding him. That was the first thing Taahir could think of as the sky grew above him. He fell through the clouds unable to right his wings and his only thought was that he didn’t punch a hole through the cloud tops as he hurtled across the sky. The air was knocked from his lungs and as he saw the end before him the earth split and swallowed him whole.

He felt the air boil around him, and he watched with abject horror as rings slid past only to reveal another until one final circle seemed to reach out and pull him closer. His wings were hot from the fall and as he entered the ring’s sky, he felt them finally catch fire. He screamed as his feathers burned away and as the ring caught him in a cradle of stone and ash. His wings burned out but the damage had already been done and his wings hung limp around him as he impacted into the busy center of wrath.

He couldn’t breathe at first. The air was so hot and thick it hurt his chest to inhale but he did. He let his lungs fill and his chest fall, and he felt his injuries slowly come alive with pain. His ribs had cracked against the stones and as he forced himself to sit up he realized one of his arms had broken as well, now laying limp in his lap as he took in the ring around him.

He knew of demons, both from the stories and his studies, he watched as a small crowd began to gather, and the hum of a foreign tongue he started to fill the crowd. He watched as a few turned to arguing, tails lashing before turning to physically fight one another. He wished he had gone unconscious with the fall, he wished for a moment’s respite after that sham of a trial they forced him through. He had disobeyed one of the Dukes of heaven, but how couldn’t he when they asked him for sin?

Violence tore through the crowd. Hissing and growling filled the hot air surrounding the fallen angel as if he were the most perfect prey that had stumbled onto hell's doorstep. The arching, jagged architecture rose around Taahir, like spikes of living stone. The skies swirled with reds and orange, no sun to be seen, only a bleeding infernal light. The ringing in his ears gave way to the drawing of blades and the clash, blade cut through flesh, a large, clawed hand flung from the split crowd, and tumbled with a bloody splatter right before the angel. The demon, a tall, four-armed thing, screamed, clutching her severed wrist, blade dropping. What crowd had once been alight with the hissing hum of infernal now grew quiet as another stepped forward. The demon was tall, fiery orange scales lit up under the flames of the hells. Their long curved blade glistened with crimson as they stepped forward, gazing down at the angel with piercing eyes. Large draconic wings hung half unfurled, creating a much larger figure, driving back the crowd as they approached.

Taahir shrunk back, looking away from the demon, his smaller sets of wings settling over his eyes and throat once more in an attempt to cover himself where his ashen broken true wings could not.

The heavy blade planted between the cracks in the stone, the demon dipping to one knee before the angel. It was rare one of such power was discarded from the heavens, word would quickly spread of their emergence. A voice spoke low under the humming crowd, deep and guttural which made even his broken ribs vibrate. His words had no meaning to the angel's ears. The demon, despite his toothy maw, seemed to smile, offering his hand out to the damaged creature.

Taahir pulled back from the demon further before taking a moment to think. He likely wasn’t going to leave this place of his own volition, and between the roaring crowd or the one who split it, he knew which was the better option. He cradled his broken arm against his stomach and took the demon’s hand. “I can’t move,” he managed out, blood coating his tongue as he spoke, causing him to cough up silver ichor that ran down his jaw getting stuck in his feathers.

It was hard to tell if the demon understood his words or simply the truth of his condition, but regardless, he reached for the angel slowly. His much larger form made easy work of lifting him from the charred ground, carefully tucking his broken wings away. With one arm holding Taahir, the other again picked up the bloodied sword. The demon turned to address the crowd, a powerful voice speaking of the warden's triumph. The sound felt as if it would shake the world around them to bits.

Taahir curled in closer on himself. No one spoke of the fate of a fallen Angel, what awaited them in the hells, and now here he was caught in a demon’s arms, hardly able to breathe in the dense air, and so uncertain of what the future might hold for him.

Time slipped by, soon he was whisked away from the spiraling cities of the ring and up into a tall series of towers, the home of the demon. They clearly held a position of power, their wealth hung on every wall, and it was so different from the heavens. Eventually, Taahir was deposited in a room, the furniture, unlike the rest of the house, was more appropriately sized for him. The demon who had brought him carefully set him on the bed, speaking in his infernal tongue before stepping out, shutting the door behind him with a click. For a few, brief moments, the air was still, the room empty, and Taahir was truly alone.

Taahir sighed softly and slowly took his place in a chair by the window. He looked out over the sea of the city below him and did his best to ignore the pain that was now fully searing through his shock. Tears welled in his eyes and ran down his cheeks in thin lines as he tried to push on, waiting for the familiar warmth to overtake his pain but knowing it would never find his body again.

Busy was the world far below, of course, a room for an angel would be held so far above it all. This was her future, what remained in the thick haze of the hells. It was unspoken, the fate of a fallen angel, though some above thought only death was left for those discarded. Whatever lay before her now was truly unknown.

***

The day bled with the familiar crimson and gold light, casting shadows over the planes torn by old wars and upheavals. The hells were an ever-moving place, turmoil brought about new victors, new prosperity, and new openings for disruptions. Xamar was no stranger to this. Everything he had worked for in the past few decades was slowly accumulating into something tangible, just barely out of reach. He would make power for himself, he had held onto what he was granted for long enough, and now it was time for action. Across from him, in the sandy pit they had practiced in many times before, was Irentia, a champion warrior of a Baron before claiming her position as a warden. She was a fearsome demon, known for her tactful use of a dual-ended blade, and Xamdas' greatest sparring partner. He drew a deep breath into his lungs, savoring the hot air, before drawing his blade, a heavy, wrought iron greatsword.

"Get on with it you two, all of this posturing is so boring," Baysan called from his place on the railing looking down at the two demons from wrath. "I made the trip all the way from pride to visit and this is how you choose to entertain me? This is hardly worth my time."

"Oh stuff it Peachy," Irentia called back as she drew her axe. "We ain't posturing for you."

"If you wanted to watch something pretty you should have gone to lust," Xamar said with a huff before advancing quickly, trying to overtake the distance before Irentia could slip away. "Besides you-" He wound up into a swing. "-invited yourself here."

Irentia parried with ease and stepped into the fighting with a grin. “You would have had more fun there too,” she teased the pride demon effortlessly.

“Ugh you act like you don’t even want me here,” Baysan, huffed as he watched them start to spar. “Maybe I should have gone to lust, at least there they don’t need blood to have fun.”

He chuckled a bit before stepping in again, going for another swing. He was a quick and aggressive fighter, though he could swap from offense to defense on a dime. It was what had saved him from many challengers to his rank. "As if you don't enjoy a little bloodshed, Baysan." He probed with a lazy half-grin.

“It’s fine on occasion, but I don’t take whatever perverse joy in it that you two do,” he teased back.

Irentia continued to press forwards with quick aggressive strikes that Xamar would have to work to parry. “Focus Xamar, I didn’t want an easy spar.”

He met the strikes with some effort, but he quickly came out the other side with more attention, striking back at her exposed side when the opportunity opened. "I think Baysan would be good with a mace." He muttered, a fierce air to his every motion, long tail whipping out behind him with every step they exchanged.

“Too little for a mace,” Irentia countered with a swing. “I think a crossbow or a sling would better suit him.” She teased as she continued on with the sparring.

The blow glanced against his sword, showering them in sparks as he rounded on her to take another strike. His footwork had been his aim in improvement and he was quickly showing progress. "Sannie maybe you could try and shoot at us while we sparred, that could be fun." He called out, grinning so that even his tusks were bared.

“Sure, let me grab something from my imaginary weapons rack!” He huffed back from the rail.

Irentia swung low at his ankles. “Focus Xamar,” she chided again as she watched him.

He growled, getting frustrated as his flow was disrupted. He planted his feet before pivoting, taking a few quick blows before stepping in again, this time determined to force her to back up. Being able to take control of the fight was valuable, especially when it would eventually mean life or death. Irentia could feel the shift in him, the rising anger that fueled his blood.

She pressed back, not willing to lose any ground without a fight. They met blade for blade for a few passes before Xamar forced her hand and made her disengage for a moment to recalibrate.

In that moment he struck out, quick and with deadly precision. The fire within him flowed easily, steam on his breath as he rounded into what would have been a finishing blow.

Irentia blocked at the very last moment with a grin. “Well look at you, trying to come for my wardenship.” She teased with a lazy grin as she let her blade fall away.

He let his blade fall as well with a confident smile crossing his face. "I would have pulled it if I didn't know you could block well." He teased back, tail flicking idly. "Besides, I want you as an ally, not in the ground." He hummed in reply over his shoulder as he headed over to the edge where Baysan sat.

“Done playing with your swords?” Baysan teased as he smiled back at the pair. It was almost tradition for the pride demon to interrupt their sparring matches on slow days in the pride ring.

"For the moment." He hummed back with a lazy smile. "What brings you all the way down to wrath, Baysan? Bored with that new lord you told me about last week?"

“I was bored with her when I met her,” he teased back with a smile. “But she got me tickets to the offering season gala in lust, so she was worth the time of day.”

“You’re terrible Bay, you know that?” Irentia teased as she made her way over to the pair. “Eventually the lords will tire of your nonsense.”

"I'm surprised you manage to end up with a new one so frequently." Xamar teased as he put away his sword. "But I learned early enough not to question your ways." He added with a vague, amused gesture.

“Good call on your part, trying to understand pride demons is hardly worth the time,” Irentia teased as she grinned down at Baysan.

“Like you would understand anyways,” Baysan huffed. “I do more for both of you than you’ll ever know.”

"Alright yes, let me bow down before my dear little pride demon in gratitude." Xamar teased with a grin before flicking his tail in Baysan's direction. "You're terribly dramatic today."

“I’m bored Mara, let’s go do something,” he continued, as Irentia started to put away their sparring gear.

“You can start by helping me pack up so we can do something else,” Irentia called back as she locked up the sparring weapons.

Xamar conceded and went to help Irentia. The three of them made their way through the normal ebb and flow of their unlikely, yet fast friendships. It had been a long and difficult road to the kind of stability Xamar now had, and it was only he that knew it was soon to be upturned.

***

It was hardly enough time for Taahir to take in the ring before a quick knock at the door was followed by a few, smaller demons entering the room. They were about Taahir's height and held far less imposing features than the larger, sword-bearing one had. The chittered in infernal before one went over to gently guide the angel back into bed, repeating the same phrase to coax her.

“I don’t understand,” she replied as she let herself be fussed over, and walked back to bed. “Please does anyone speak celestial—I can’t understand what you’re trying to say to me.” She said softly, her demeanor gentle and passive as she allowed the demon to guide her.

The demons guided him back to his bed, careful not to let any touch be forceful. Quickly they began to unpack instruments, medical dressings, tinctures, and more. All items that Taahir was familiar with but rarely needed in the heavens. The door swung open again as the demons spoke to each other in infernal, a fourth entered, a bit taller than the rest. Their four eyes peered over the edge of green-tinted glasses. "Rest easy, angel, we are here to help." They spoke, tongue curling around the celestial syllables with practice. Their infernal accent could not be tamed, but the words were clear enough.

“That much can be assumed considering the bandages,” he replied softly as he wiped the slow-rolling tears from his cheeks. “Where am I? I know I am in the hells but where?”

"The circle of Wrath." They replied, accepting a pair of long white gloves and pulling them over their hands. "Unlucky to have fallen along a disputed border." They added with a slight sigh as they approached him. "Lay down, agh'kta , you're badly wounded." The word they used had been whispered through the crowd before.

They laid back and let their wings spread, their flight feathers had burned in the fall and their wing bones had been wrenched out of place and ached as they sprawled across the sheets. “ Agh’kta —what does that mean?” They asked gently as they let the demon work.

"In your language, fallen one." They slowly began to inspect their wings. As they examined them, they made comments in infernal, one of the other hell spawn making notes as the others began to put together what looked like splints and wrappings. "Or that is the closest approximation I know." They said as their fingers touched a particularly decimated section of feathers over what was likely broken bone.

He winced at the touch. “I did not fall,” he said as he tried to keep still for the group. “If I fell I would have lost my wings as the clouds left me behind.”

The demon spoke something in infernal, holding out their hand for a pair of golden shears that were handed to them. "They nearly were lost." They remarked as they moved to begin cutting away his feathers. "I need to remove the damage to work." They noted as the first snip cut away at his charred and broken wings.

“No—No you can’t do that,” he said as he tried to pull his wings in around him, only for the muscles to shudder under the weight and stay still. “Those are mine—you can’t take them from me.”

They stopped in their motion, two of the other hellspawn quickly moving to keep him from damaging his wings further. "What is your name, angel?" They asked as they met his eyes.

“Taahir, my name is Taahir,” he said softly. Clearly, he wasn’t trying to put up a fight, but there was panic in his eyes.

"Taahir," They said with a slow nod, their voice calm and level. "My name is Mesohphelus, I am called the rghktahn , the mender." They explained. "Your feathers will regrow in time, but for now, your wings are wounded, they will never heal correctly on their own here." They picked up one of the snipped feathers and placed it into his hand, the ends were burned and curled into a mess of ash, it was a horrible sight.

“Just give my feathers back to me—I understand, but I would like them even if they must be removed. It’s important to me.” He explained as he held the feather tight in his hand. He had this terrible sinking feeling in his chest, that spark of panic he had only just begun to feel after he had been brought before the council that condemned him here.

They nodded, making a note to the assistants. "None will be passed on to any other hands," Mesohphelus said as they slowly began their work again. With care and intention, they slowly worked through both of the damaged wings, clipping away what was unsavable, but leaving the rest. By the end, Taahir had several splints in place, and two slings fashioned to keep his wings still and secure while they healed. The hellspawn had diligently collected each and every feather, placing them into a chest at Mesohphelus' order for the angel while they were carefully feeling along the edges of Taahir's rib cage, identifying where the damage was. "These will take some time to heal, I will tell the Warden you will not be fit to walk for a few weeks." They said as their fingertips pressed against a fracture, determining the damage. "That should give you some time to yourself." They added.

“What do you mean?” He asked gently, wincing as he felt the ache pulse through him. “I don’t understand why they took me, or what I am doing here in the guest quarters of a manor.” He added as he let them work. “It isn’t out of kindness, I am not that naive.”

"No, not kindness." They agreed. "You fell into Warden Ak'Thral's territory. The law states that a reigning demon has first rights to sponsoring an angel that has not fallen of their own volition." They said as they moved to examine his fractured arm, it had bruised badly in the short time since impact. "Currently, you are under the Warden's sanctuary, no demon may attempt to make a deal with you. But once you have recovered, you will be given an offer to join the warden's house."

“What does that mean for me—why would they want me? I have no strength here, no power as I would above,” he said softly, wiping away the tears pooling in his eyes with his highest set of wings that were thankfully intact.

They shook their head, making a note to their scribe as they examined the way a sharp bit of bone was jutting unnaturally out in his forearm, threatening to break through the skin. "No, they do not teach you much of the life that faces angels down in the rings." They said, pausing to rifle through a bag. "An angel is an extension of power and status for a demon, but right now, your power resides above, untouchable to us." They produced a small vial of yellow ichor. "It will be the Warden's purpose to corrupt you, if he is successful, your power will be relinquished from the heavens and granted to him."

“Corrupt me?” She said with a sickening silence. She had been an Angel of modesty above, both in her way of being and her designation. The idea of what corruption could possibly look like in herself was terrifying, it made her sick to her stomach. She had fallen to avoid tainting herself with another angel’s sin, and now a demon would be attempting to do the same. “And if he fails?”

They met her eyes, their gaze was troubled but serious. "You will not be likely to find safety in the hells." They put it simply. There was no point in scaring the poor creature with the grim reality. If the Warden were to release her, she would likely be in more danger than ever, other demons would be hungry to take her power for themselves, or worse still, her blood and wings.

She nodded a bit and looked down at the burnt feather still held tight in the palm of her hand. “I am gracious for your help and your candor. Thank you,” she said softly, tipping her head forward in acknowledgment as she sat with that pit in her stomach.

"My goal is to help prepare you for your new reality, I don't do this under any other demon's order." They explained. "In the coming weeks, I will do my best to keep the warden away from you for as long as possible, though this is my secret for your ears only." They glanced around at the other hellspawn. "So you may heal and become adjusted, but my power only goes so far." They admitted honestly, setting the vial on the bedside table.

“Thank you,” he replied again. “What is that by the way?” He pressed as he looked down at the vial on the table.

"I will have to operate on your arm, the fracture is too severe to be left as it is." They explained, gesturing to the vial. "I am preparing your arm, but that will ensure you do not feel any of it." They said as they were given a thick sheet of padded leather to place below the arm, a clean and level surface to work on. A tray with a few sharp-looking instruments was prepared off to the side, and a bucket of water and rags had been brought into the room.

Taahir went pale at the sight of it and let his head fall back, his smaller wings folding over his eyes. “Will I be awake for this?” He asked grimly, hiding his eyes from the light of the room with wings, trying to settle himself. Before the fall he’d hardly been injured. On occasion, he would scrape a hand on something but it healed in minutes, this was worse than any fate imaginable.

"Not if you drink all of that." They replied as they went to clean his broken arm with a hot, damp cloth. "This isn't the worst I've seen, if it is any consolidation"

“Considering what I witnessed on arrival I’m not surprised.” He said softly as he reached for the vial and held it up to the demon. “Would you mind opening this, I’d prefer not to bear witness to my own innards.”

They nodded and opened it for him before handing it over. "I will be keeping an eye on you until you're better recovered, no one else will have access to your room." They explained plainly as they watched him. They weren't exactly an ally, but for now, at least they were an aid.

Taahir nodded before downing the entirety of the vial, the thick golden liquid coating his throat as he swallowed. He fought down a gag and his vision quickly started to swim and fade away with his consciousness.

#ao3 writer #writers on tumblr #writeblr #my writing #angel oc #demon oc #original character #ao3 #ao3 link #ao3 stuff #slow burn #romance novels #slow burn romance #heaven and hell #demon x angel #HeightsOfTheHells

[hexjulia]

i looked up who that painter was because despite having had an intense pre-raphaelite obsession period like every other teenage cliche out there I'd never heard of her. She hardly seems to be remembered. Instead of articles the top pages google shows me are auctions... thankfully there's this page;

https://www.robertsimon.com/wylienotablesale

worth taking a look at! about that painting i just reblogged specifically;

'The subject and attributes of the painting appears to be of the artist’s invention, without a specific literary source. The ashen, somewhat androgynous king representing death peers out at the viewer through a veil held in place by the elaborate jeweled crown seated on his head, sculpted in raised “gesso duro” (Fig. 3). A scalloped halo in richly articulated gilt gesso is seen behind him, placed in front of the blue-grey feathers of his angelic wings, which are subtly modeled in low relief. In his right hand he holds a silver-tipped spear, while his left rests atop an elaborately bound book poised atop a clock-face on a table. The clasp of the book is open, the elaborate cover decorated with raised gold ornamentation around bone inlays, while the spine is decorated with four fictive panels. The topmost shows a dove hovering above the title “Liber Aeternitatis” [the Book of Eternity]; beneath that is a depiction of the Crucifixion; then the Resurrection; and finally a peacock, the traditional symbol of rebirth and immortality. These are all expressively modeled in gesso, highlighted with fine black lines. The gilt background punctuated by round depressions evokes the celestial sky of Italian gold-ground paintings. Throughout the work tempera colors and gilding are integrated with the gesso medium to create effects both illusionistic and decorative.

[...]

The frame, designed and fabricated by the artist, is richly decorated with designs in low relief (Fig. 4). In the corners menacing crows, a common symbol of death and the afterlife, surround a tubular ring depicting a snake biting its tail, an ancient emblem of eternity. Within lies a concentric relief band with alternating dragonflies and flowers (possibly poppies), both associated with change, transformation, and rebirth; then another snake-biting ring oriented in the opposite direction. A further flat band follows, this one decorated with a pattern of swirling knotted cords, of a type usually called sailor’s knots, signifying eternal and unbroken love. Finally, an angled inner frame surrounds the painting, with raised lettering spelling out work’s title along the edge. If the highly personal iconography of this work, both painting and frame, remains abstruse, its fundamental concerns may be said to be the mystery of life, the inevitability of death, and the hope for eternal life.'

look at those details!!

#i like how personal it is. no clear mythological figure

[acornsandoaktrees]

First Snows

Squirrels Arc

{NON-CANON AU}

word count: ~1.8K

summary: The sickness Eryn Galen now faces disrupts the enchantment that has given eternal spring to the great forest.

trigger warnings: animal death

Lakes and lands under the eye of the Lonely Mountain typically suffered greater cold than ever witnessed in the bordering Greenwood.

Fabled for enchanted forestry remaining evergreen despite its nature, snow had never grazed the kingdom of green leaves. The most brazen of snowflakes melted at the boundaries of its canopies.

Mysterious in its absence, few Greenwood elves thought they might experience the touch of frost in their long, sheltered lifetimes, lest they venture outside the safety of their borders.

So, when Winter descended upon Mirkwood for the first time -- unprotected due to dark forces sickening its roots -- its inhabitants swelled with fear.

Predator and prey alike sought shelter, a mass exodus in search of protection from the cold. Fawns shivered beneath bushes and squirrels chittered nervously in their hideaways.

Shriveled brown leaves quivered on shrunken husks of branches, trees watchful and wary. The forest lay deathly still, air fraught with tension.

Snow up to her ankles by now, Alphes stooped. It had been falling steadily all night. Only her Elvish litheness kept her above long-buried tree roots. Her breath bit her throat as she inhaled, misted like icy dragon smoke as she exhaled.

Suddenly, a family of mice leapt through the snow banks, appearing and disappearing like swimmers in the lake in summer. The trail they left in their wake quickly vanished: forgotten ripples in water.

Scampering up Alphes' offered arm, they squeaked frantically and shook like the leaves. Cradling them close, Alphes guided them to her pocket where they might snuggle up warm. The weight by her side was reassuring.

Her footsteps made little sound on freshly fallen snow. The heavy beat of a bird's wings in the canopy above sounded akin to a clap of thunder.

Whispering empty reassurance to the trees, Alphes began to make her way home through a transformed territory. Fingertips trailing on bark, connections were hard to establish through opaque layers of frost clinging stubbornly to the trees. Their fearful voices were muffled, as if heard from the other side of a locked door.

Her fingers slipped on a sheet of ice encasing a strong cedar, and the connection was lost. Alphes' light cloak did nothing but billow and snap obtusely in the glassy wind.

Every drop of contrast to the unsettlingly quiet forest outside, Felegoth bustled with furious life.

Entryway blocked to bursting by traffic of every animal known to the forest -- frightful deer and flitting birds and sleepy hedgehogs underfoot -- there remained only small pockets of space for one to breathe. All pushed and shoved amongst themselves to carve out their own territory in the warmth. It was loud; so loud; elves yelling above the deafening din of animal cries for a dominating melody.

Directing all manner of creatures, Thranduil stood in the thick of it, an island in the ocean. He had shed a fine set of robes, though he had yet to notice the boar chewing on his embroidered tunic, too concerned with the recent invasion of the cellars.

The mice in Alphes' pocket shifted, restless. It was best they stay safe until she could find a place for them, she decided, stepping out of the way of a silver-furred wolf, tail between its legs and teeth bared.

Thranduil looked at her across the shifting ocean. Voice lost to waves of activity, his summons was a sweeping gesture of his crowned head, clusters of holly berries bright like blood against ashen hair.

Thranduil's throne itself remained the only reliable patch of Felegoth kept free of animals; a proud boulder resilient against the stubborn force of a raging river.

Alphes shooed a badger from the steps so that her father could climb them to his seat. A small group of deer slept in the nook beneath them, but she left them be; they'd found peaceful haven away from the bustle of the halls, and weren't in anyone's way.

Clearing her throat, Alphes bowed deeply, dropping to one knee.

"Aran nin."

"Stand, iellig," Thranduil said, acklowledging her with a slight dip of his head.

The King's clothes had changed since earlier that day, now a muted cream tunic, that of undyed wool, and only embroidered at the hems in emerald thread. Truly the dregs of his wardrobe.

"Tell me, Alphes, how fares the forest?"

Catching the downturn of his broad brows, Alphes polished the guard of her sheathed sword with a gloved thumb.

"Barren, in a word."

Chasing a runaway fox, a bowless elf sprinted by, breathing fast.

"...As you can see, most fauna is within our halls. The trees are stiff with fear. Leaves are dropping almost as fast as snow falls."

The Elvenking said nothing, looking past her into middle distance. Alphes frowned, pursed her lips.

"Adar, we must do something."

Refocusing, Thranduil brought up his hand to halt her incoming tangent.

"This is no meek army, Alphes. To take up arms against nature is surely to lose."

"Winter's end is far and we are nearly defeated! You must realise the forest will not survive the season if we continue this way."

Thranduil's eyes flashed dangerously. "This ancient wood has withstood for millennia. We can manage one measly Winter," he hissed. Then, brushing off his outburst and relaxing back onto the throne: "Our stores of lembas bread remain safe, do they not?"

"It is not just a matter of food; we don't have enough firewood, nor warm clothing for our people. And there is no space!"

Alphes began to pace back and forth in front of the throne.

"Animals will begin to fight amongst themselves and against us. For territory, for food. There will be bloodshed, Adar. Our halls will rot with the weight of it."

Shoulders heavy, she drew to a stop. Suddenly Thranduil's many, many years showed on his face. Hanging his head, he massaged his brow.

"Thank you for appraising me."

The Elvenking waved his hand somewhere in her direction. Storming from the throne room, Alphes took his dismissal with a sour face.

The bridge's smooth stone was slick with frost. The river below ran quietly suffocated underneath a sheet of clear ice. Claws scraped for grip beside dying ivy.

The coyote growled like thunder, lips high and tail low, grey fur bristling along her spine.

Hearing her threat, the mice leapt from Alphes' pocket in a fright, landing unharmed on the bridge's wall and sprinting fast. The coyote followed.

Bones crunched sickly within the coyote's jaw, snapping as easily as twigs.

Alphes gasped an obtuse sound of disgust and turned her back. Redness flowed, spreading quickly and soaking fast into the grains of ancient stone. Ice crackled under hot rivulets.

Death was the future Winter would lead them to.

>---|- bonus >---|-

Despite having been absent for days now, Tauriel had not yet returned to Felegoth. She was kept away, conducting an extensive upheaval of Mirkwood's borders. There were many hundreds of miles to traverse between these safe halls and the wilds of the forest, and bad weather made no trip easier.

Although the title of Captain was one Tauriel bore with pride, the attached responsibilities demanded much of her time. Alphes could only hope she was staying warm whilst out in the storm, and would return soon.

A week, a month, should not be notable to an elf: those who watch time flow as they would watch a river etch its way through stone. All the same, Alphes missed her. She couldn't help but feel an age had passed by already.

Expecting she had the room to herself, Alphes startled when a hand alighted on her lower back. Her heart beat like a rabbit's for a brief moment, then calmed when auburn hair and soft hazel eyes entered her vision.

"My apologies, tarien," Tauriel murmured.

"It's not your fault. I was lost in my thoughts."

Pivoting on her touch to be against her chest, the hand at her back drifted to settle on her hip.

Alphes reached up to brush snowflakes from coppery braids before they could melt. Interwoven gold beads glinted warmly in firelight, icy to the touch. Tauriel's cheeks and nose were rosy, her skin raw and lips chapped from the sharp wind outside. She shivered subtly.

"How do our borders fare?" Alphes asked, sugar-sweet, guiding Tauriel closer to the hearth.

In the princess' absence the chairs had been moved closer, woolen blankets piled. Alphes steered Tauriel to one, effectively boxing her in and encouraging her to relinquish, to permit rest. The elleth sighed, weary, and sat.

"We are secure -- for now. But we are vulnerable. I've assigned extra guards to the borders, though I fear for their usefulness, and for their opinion of me."

Quietly willing the warmth of the fire to envelop her bones, Tauriel bent forward towards the hearth, curled in on herself. Another shiver wracked her body.

Unfolding a blanket, Alphes settled it across Tauriel's shoulders, kissing her cheek as she did so. Her skin was frightfully icy.

"Their opinion?" Alphes pursued.

She perched cross-legged on a plush stool to Tauriel's side, beginning to unravel her braids. Making fists in wool-knots, Tauriel tugged the blanket tighter around herself and turned to allow Alphes better access.

"I don't wish them to think me punishing. No one wants to be ordered out--" she gestured to the balcony's doors, past which flurries twirled in great clouds of white, "--in that."

Alphes swept aside a loc of Tauriel's loose flaming hair in order to press her lips to the soft skin below her ear. Thankfully, her skin was beginning to thaw at last.

"They understand their duty. They know what you command of them is vital. Your Guard would follow you into an orc pit to protect our home."

Tauriel leaned into her touch. Her eyelids were growing heavy; she had not slept since departing the Woodland Halls, and the crackling of the fire sung a lovely lullaby.

"An orc pit would be the lesser evil," she murmured.

Listening to her Captain's breaths begin to deepen and steady, Alphes smiled, kissing the crown of her head. She steered her to lean back; Tauriel settled into her princess' hold gladly. Shifting to a more comfortable position, she tucked her legs up onto the chair and laid her head on Alphes' shoulder, nuzzling into the crook of her neck beneath the blanket.

Upon the sweetest of content sighs, she was asleep.

Watching the fire burn, Alphes cradled the elleth, savouring the weight of her body in her arms and the warmth of her breath on her skin. Alphes kissed Tauriel's forehead again, reverent. Then, she cast a wish to the sky that might ensure sweeter dreams for her Captain than the bitter wrath of Winter howling outside.

#lotr #tolkien #the hobbit #tolkien elves #lotr au #greenwood kids #aaotverse #acorns and oak trees #aaot writing #squirrels arc #alphes of greenwood #thranduil of greenwood #tauriel of greenwood

[artsykidwolf-2000]

Hello everyone, since I made a KARDYN short story yesterday why not even it out with another KATNIS ship story. This version of the story takes place in EPISODE IGNIS so spoilers??? (Idk it's been out for years)

I like the alternate endings bc it was more eventful I guess. Just like that fight more than the normal one. BUT I wanna make my own alternative ending!

This ship is in a different universe than to my KARDYN short stories

Worth Fighting For

Rating/Warning: minor blood, weapons, etc.

★★★★★

It was chaos in Altissia. Leviathan woke up super cranky and is giving Noctis a hard time. I hope Luna knows what she's doing...

Ignis and I have already lost Prompto and Gladio thanks to Titan being summoned and a magitek air ship crashed into the bridge we were on. Fighting through the districts was not easy either, even with Ravus' help. His passive aggressive tone didn't help. Once we reached the altar, it was horrible. Luna was gone and Noctis didn't seem like he wanted to wake up. Ravus held his sister in great sorrow.

"Luna!" I screamed as I ran to her. Her lips were already blue and cold from the cold water and chilling sea spray. I knew it would take all my strength to heal her past this point without The Tree of Songs to help me. Tears fell down my cheeks. "If only I came here sooner..."

"You have done enough..." Luna's spirit smiled down at me. Even in death her voice spoke from her heart. "Protect those close to your heart, Fight..."

"I will Luna..." I smiled and gave her a parting blessing. Taking her friendship crystal I gave to her long ago. "You will always be remembered"

"Oh what a sentimental statement Lady Katerina, truly spoken poetry" Ardyn chimed.

I whipped around but before I could attack, Ravus was shot back with dark magic and Ignis was pinned down by soldiers. I quickly shielded Noctis the best I could, I couldn't even summon my wings, my magic was already so low. "Don't you dare Ardyn! I know your intentions! This will bring you nothing!"

"Katerina!" Ignis struggled against the soldiers' grip.

Ardyn chuckled, "what do you know about me dear princess?" He grabbed and pulled my hair and lifted me. I winced and whined with pain as I gripped his hand to try and get him off. "You know NOTHING" he held his blade to my neck.

Then my brave familiar ran from me and grabbed the ring in her mouth. She ran to Ignis. "Dove Run!" Soon Ignis escaped and took the ring and glared at Ardyn. Dove hissed from Ignis' shoulder.

"Let. Her. Go!" He growled. "Take me instead!"

"Ignis...I'll be fine!" I looked at him with pleading eyes. I saw nothing but determination in his.

"No! I'm not letting you take her away!" Ignis shouted.

Ignis held up the ring and he sheds a tear, "I swore to stand by Noct and keep him safe but I WILL NOT tolerate you threatening the one I love!" He shoved the ring onto his finger and screamed out in pain.

"IGNIS!!!" I cried out. Right before my eyes I saw Ignis transformed by the ring. His eyes engulfed by purple flames, his hair entirely down and damp from the rain. He soon teleported backwards and Ardyn teleported with me forwards.

"Guess the Gods favor you after all" Ardyn growled in a smooth low tone. He threw me to the side as I hit broken columns.

I was trying to keep conscious while they fought. I heard blade against blade clanging against each other. Regular blood and black blood scattered the wet stone floor of the altar. Diluting as the fight went on. I had to stop this before Ignis got killed. With the last of my magic I teleported all of us where no one else would get hurt. Not heading the yells of my sisters as they ran towards the fight when I did. I coughed up blood due to the strain on my body.

"stop this nonsense Ardyn!" I wheezed, holding my side. Stumbling on the walkway to the Crystal, just outside the orb holding it.

Ignis realized what I had done, before he could act he ran out of time. He collapsed to his knees. His face ashen from the magical flames.

"so the little Guardian wants to play with the Daemon..." Ardyn chuckled as he spat out black blood. "Then show your loved one your secret!"

I closed my eyes, pained by his demand, but I turned to Ignis. I walked up to him and placed my hands on his cheeks. He jumped at my touch, his dull eyes searching for me. "Kat... what're you...please don't fight him..." He held my hands tightly.

"I have to Iggy...I'm sorry..." I took the ring from his hand and kissed his forehead. Using the ambient magic to heal his sight a bit. I put on the ring and backed away from him. I saw his eyes widened to me. I held out my hand to the Crystal.

"Great Crystal of old, grant me the power to protect the ones worth fighting for!" My eyes and crystal glowed a bright purple. I felt like I was on fire from the Crystal's power overflowing my body. I knew the price I had to pay.

My own crystal sunk into my chest as it absorbed the powers of the ring, "CRYSTALLUS UNIFICATION, LIBERATUS!" my body became an orb of light and then cracked to reveal my true guardian form. My now silvery light lavender hair glittered like a crystal. My clothes changed into a slim fit dress that splits near the thighs. I was adorned with light silver armor on my torso, arms and legs. My once dove-like wings were replaced by crystal like fae ones. A purple crystal also poked out my forehead. In my hand was the Silver Scepter morphed into a long blade. I also grew a bit taller just about the same height as Ardyn or more.

"Kat..." Ignis said in shock as he reached out to me but a small shield blocked his reach. Soon a whole forcefield was around him.

"don't...at least not right now..." I looked back at him. Tears in my eyes.

"let the duel commence little goddess" Ardyn chuckled as he summoned his whole regalia and sent it towards us, hitting the Crystal's chambers. Soon the whole platform collapsed.

"cheap move...but I can make you pay for all that you did! For Regis! Luna! Everyone that I hold dear to my heart!" Ardyn and I clashed, ancient metal clanging and scraping against each other.

"how sentimental!!! I tried too long ago when my brother cast me out!" Ardyn roared in anger.

"I'm sorry for what Somnus did to you but after your fight with Regis I saw what Bahamut told you! He lies! No God should use what they created to help Eos! Not in this way! The Scourge will still live on, one way or another!" I struggled with Ardyn and his many power ups. "I may not be the friend you once knew! But I'll try my hardest to finish what Layanna started! No matter how long it takes!"

Ardyn growled, "you dare not speak her name! You're nothing like her! She didn't even help Aera!"

"Then I'll show you what I can do!" I raised my sword as it turned into a bow and took aim. A light arrow drew back in my weapon. A magic circle formed in front of me. A tear fell.

{Crystal Arcana}

"I'll make you see the truth! Even if it means sacrificing myself! THAT I PROMISE!!!" I let loose my arrow through the magic circle as it struck Ardyn in the chest, but not into his heart but his friendship crystal, corrupted by malus. The arrow tip soon trapped Ardyn in a crystal cocoon. I floated down and ran back to Ignis and pulled off rubble, his bubble still intact.

I smiled at him and powered down, my clothes torn and mangled from my transformation. My hair and eyes stayed the same. The ring did a number on my left arm as I took it off. I collapsed from exhaustion as the shield went down. Ignis caught me and held me close.

"why did you...you idiot..." Ignis cried, his tears falling onto my face. I placed my mangled hand on his cheek.

I winced, knowing my crystal was probably cracked. "because you always fought for me...it was my turn to fight for you. I couldn't let him or the ring kill you." I took a deep breath and found my words. "I love you..."

Ignis' eyes brightened at my words. He smiled and held my hand closer to this cheek, "I love you too" we soon closed the gap between us and shared a gentle kiss. Soon my crystal embedded in my chest began to glow and spark. The crystal around his neck also glowed. Our love made a healing aura around us. Then I saw who else was healing us. Noctis and the others found us and he found the ring I took off. The aura healed my crystal enough to where I could heal Ignis' sight.

"You think we'll be hearing their wedding bells after all?" Gladio quipped.

Noctis chuckled, "well mine never rang, but I'll be happy to see theirs"

"so what're we gonna do about the crystalized psycho over here?" Flash gestures to Ardyn asleep in the crystal.

I got up with Ignis and smiled, "taking him back to our kingdom. I never break my promise." I turned to Noctis "Noctis, it's best if you know the truth of your family..."

"so no one's gonna tell me why she's a goddess?!" Prompto yelled.

We all laughed and made our way to a summoning circle. I placed a hand on the cocoon and held Ignis' hand "in due time...first I need a cinnamon roll"

#final fantasy xv #episode ignis #ffxv ignis #ignis scientia #ignis x oc #ignis x reader #ff15 ignis #final fantasy ignis #ignis #fanfic #final fantasy fanfiction #ffxv fanfic #last pegasus

[corvoimperiale]

Weak, tired after a long journey, Jericho was escorted by Darius and Samira to the Swain mansion, which had long since been transformed back to what it was, with some changes, but was now habitable.

Arguably, they both left Jericho in bed after almost dragging him into the house. The Grand General groaned in pain and as soon as he was placed on the mattress.

"At last, back home..."

Jericho exhaled feeling as if his soul was escaping his body and when he closed his eyes, his ashen wings came into view as they wrapped Jericho between them.

"He needs to rest... he's exhausted."

Said Darius

Samira snorted a little suspiciously and as she walked out with him, she warned him.

"If the old man dies, it will be your fault.

"As if you didn't know him..."

They said leaving the place and leaving the mansion well closed.

#drabbles #painting with blood

[goldenchildminmin]

||  Eilonwy & Minho ||

Of course Minho was aware that the town of Opulence boasted beautiful botanical gardens, a true gem in the town’s midst. As a matter of fact he never missed a chance to visit them when he was in town for some much needed alone meditation time, reconnecting with wonders of nature without venturing into the dangers of the Hollowed Forest. He even had a favorite spot beneath the glass dome in the butterfly garden, a small bench tucked between towering bushes of pale blue hydrangea.

He loved sitting perfectly still until any loose butterflies flittering about mistook the sweet fragrance of his cologne for a flower’s and landed on him with their delicate legs, resting their beautifully colored wings from their exploring flight. Feeling perfectly at ease here, he would let all of his fae features show except for his wings which were too large and inconvenient in their transformation from visible to invisible to let them out frequently. Ashen blonde hair now had an incomplete crown of the tiny flying creatures, some even perching atop his long, pointed ears. More circled about him, tiny wings flapping against the whirlwind of his golden fairy dust that rose about him like a puff of fine powder at every stir of the air, matching the light sheen of gold-glittering freckles over the high points of his face. His fingers, incredibly long due to an addition of a fourth knuckle, rested perfectly still where his arms draped over the backrest of the bench, butterflies adorning them like rings.

He hummed a soft tune with his eyes closed, eyelashes long against the glowing upper cheeks, a song for which he composed the melody, hoping it would make it onto his next solo album. He tested it in his throat, playing with varying ways of singing it, slower then faster, with a melancholy tone and then trying it with an uplifting one, enjoying the fun side of musical creation, softly and underneath his breath so it hardly carried over or disturbed the peace of the place.

@eilonwyj​

#::MinhoxEilonwy #Hope this is alright!

[pridaxus-worldbuilding]

An (semi) incomplete list of the humanoid species of Pridaxus

Quick disclaimer

I am always looking to add more to this list, in fact I have some ideas but these are the ones so far with official designs and traits.

Humans

The most common species in Pridaxus. I wont give too much of a physical description of humans because more than likely if you can read this you are one. They are the only species of Pridaxus to be found on all landmasses without migration.

Satyrs

Predominately found in Glimmerier

-can be based on any hoofed mammal, must have legs based on this mammal (bipedal)

-can have any traits similar to the hoofed mammal they are based on (EXCEPT UDDERS), but as long as they have their legs+hooves that’s good

Centaurs

Predominately found in Glimmerier

-can be based on any hoofed mammal, must have legs based on this mammal (quadrupedal)

-can have any traits similar to the hoofed mammal they are based on (EXCEPT UDDERS), but as long as they have their legs+hooves that’s good

Orcs

Predominately found in Glimmerier

-they tend to have tough gray skin, no external ears (only ear holes), dark scleras,

-can have tusks and skin cracks, as well as they can be very tall, most not being shorter than 6ft

Lycanthropes

Predominately found in Glimmerier

-they can take on either a fully anthro/animalistic appearance or a fully human appearance. Some have a genealogical mutation where they retain some animal like features even in their more human form

-can turn others into lycanthropes as well and have a weakness to silver

-can be based on any flightless mammal

Elves

Predominately found in Elvenwick

-their only unique physical trait is having pointy ears

Dwarves

Predominately found in Elvenwick

-they have a very short stature, most arent taller than 4 ft

-many of their features are rounder, including their very large round ears

-regardless of sex all dwarves can grow beards, and culturally amongst dwarves it is acceptable and encouraged to keep your beard

Fairies

Predominately found in Elvenwick

-similarly to elves they have pointed ears

-they have wings resembling butterflies (and only butterflies)

-full fairies have antennas

Merpeople

Predominately found in Amphinis

-similarly to lycanthrope they can swap between bipedal and with merfolk traits (ie tails, fills, fins, etc)

-they can only be based on fish rather than aquatic mammals

Vampires

Predominately found in Idealps

-have the vampire fangs

-can have pointy if they were born a vampire, and red eyes if they became a vampire while still young

-a bite can transform one into a vampire and they can have pale/ashen skin

-regular food has no nutritional value to full vampires/ vampires who have been such since childhood

-not all vampires have an appetite for blood, depending on the individual they can feast on blood, flesh, emotion, magic, dreams, or life energy

Avians

Predominately found in Idealps

-can be based on any flying bird

-all avians have wings, talons and hollow bones

-some might have more feathers and beaks

Nymphs

-similar to Merpeople but can not switch forms

-can be based on any currently existing sea creature (ik Im going to regret this), but doesnt have to they can just be fish in general

-must have the 3 point ears but can have gils tails etc

Sirens

-they are a subspecies of nymphs but similarly to vampires, regular food has no nutritional value to them. They can feast on blood, flesh, emotion, magic, dreams, or life energy

-Built in enchanting/charming bardic magic

Dryads

-can transform into trees (immobile while they are trees) any type. Their tree form is only slightly larger than their human height

-any damage done in their tree form leads to scars/ injuries in their human appearance

-herbivores

Volcans

-they tend to have tough dark skin, like volcano ash, and little lava like cracks on their skin. They also have dark scleras.

-they are a sub type of dwarf and share their short height

-they are born exclusively in mines or on volcanic islands, and tend to live exclusively Elvenwick or Amphinis

#glimmerier #idealps #elvenwick #amphinis #general #art #species #lore

[siriannatan]

Castle Full of Vampires - Tango and Impulse

The first chapter of the series will be out soon :)

In the meantime enjoy some Tango and Impulse stuff

Name: Tango Tek Race: vampire Age: ~320 looks about 27 Turned by: forgot Powers: Vampire skills - transformation, increased speed and reflexes, enhanced senses - hearing, smell, vision Other - sometimes messes with alchemy, sometimes with golems, sometimes with magic - depends on his mood Weaknesses: curiosity, Impulse, his own laziness Likes: Impulse, naps, interesting things, nice clothes, playing the piano, dangerous creatures (has a little greenhouse in the back where he keeps a Cerberus (Adequate)- poor guys growth was stunted for some reason, and ruin with a basilisk sealed in- Impy helped) and several stuffed monsters - gifts from Impulse Dislikes: ugly clothes, when Impulse is busy, bad quality wine

Appearance. not too tall, slightly skinny, bright red eyes - natural no sun involved - short blonde hair - usually slicked back, gets annoyed when Impulse messes with it which is often. While most of the vampires wear mainly black and white he prefers red. Wears the most open at the front shirts - why even bother if they're barely buttoned?

Name: Impulse Race: demon Age: ~3000 Powers: demon magic, greatly increased overall stats, can fly Weaknesses: tight and narrow paces, low ceilings, Tango, Likes: sweets, books, shiny things, Tango, making Tango happy Dislikes: people talking to Tango, Tango being sad, being the reason why Tango's sad

Appearance. seems tall because of his horns and wings, in reality only a little taller than Tango. Ashen grey skin with bright golden markings, golden eyes with the dark sclera. Lots of jewellery, on his pointy ears, on the horns, on his tail, his neck, face, fingers - all of it makes a lot of noise when he's walking, and thanks to magic Tango doesn't have to whine when he has to take it all off. Plain, loose clothes in dark colours - ash of the demon realm has a harder time ruining them.

#cfov #CFOV #my stories #my stuff #hermitshipping #hermitcraft #vampire!tango #demon!Impulse #tangotek #impulsesv #fanfiction