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sanjoongie · 11 days

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𝑰 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖

🏵First Flower chosen for The Language of Flowers event held by @cultofdionysusnet

🏵Prompt Chosen: Zinnia {loyalty}

🏵Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x Reader (f)

🏵Genre: smut, angst

🏵Trope: soulmate, immortal love

🏵Au: Vampire au, sleeping beauty inspired

🏵Rating: 18+, MDNI

🏵Warnings: supernatural strength and speed as per a vampire's powers, mentions of blood, death, war, {Kinks} penetrative sex with no barrier, wet grinding?, over stim, praise kink, Switch! reader, switch! yeonjun

🏵Word Count: 3,163

🏵Beta's: @downtoamagicalland & @mejuii

🏵Summary: when you, a vampire master, learned of your lover Yeonjun's death, you fell into a deep sleep rather than mourn the loss. Yeonjun, as it turned out, wasn't dead but was devoted to waiting until you woke up. This is your story~

🏵banner by @cafekitsune

~~~Present time~~~

Yeonjun laid against the glass coffin where you rested, sighing hard enough to fog up the glass for a moment. He traced a heart through the condensation and then laughed at his own corniness. To make matters worse, his situation with you was a bit of a Romeo and Juliet vibe and it almost made him roll his eyes at how horribly cliched it truly was.

During an uprising of the peasant-human fiefdoms, Yeonjun as your right hand and lover had gone to quell a major rebellion. News had travelled back that Yeonjun had been mortally wounded and ashes had been sent to you in a perfume bottle. When your fiefdoms had been settled and the humans soothed to the point of peace again, you went into a deep slumber, mourning the loss of your love.

In actuality, Yeonjun had been wounded but simply restrained and unable to return to you. By the time he had arrived at the castle, it had been too late. So he waited loyally by your coffin for you to wake up.

Some vampires slumber for a few hundred years. Living as an immortal can be draining, and so, a deep slumber is necessary to maintain your sanity. But you had gone to sleep with a broken heart. So after centuries had passed, and your anniversary of your slumber bordered on half a millennia, Yeonjun wondered if you were ever going to wake up.

And still, he remained by your side. How could he ever abandon you, after you thought he had died? He visited you every sunset, as soon as he woke up from his daytime slumber, visiting your coffin with flowers and a bright smile. He would tell you of what happened within the kiss recently, keeping you up to date in case you absorbed his words. He never once left the castle or took on another lover. His heart was yours, and as an immortal, that meant until both of your undead hearts were ripped from your chests.

“My love,” Yeonjun sighed for the umpteenth time, gazing upon your slumbering visage.

Yeonjun's heart ached that you were so close and yet so far away. Did you dream of him in your deep sleep? Is that why you never awoke? Because you could be with him in your dreams if not in your waking hours?

~~~In the Past~~~

You dreamt of a simpler time with Yeonjun. You had just become a master vampire and Yeonjun, looking to move up in a court, wooed you to his best abilities. You entertained his advances, if only to amuse yourself.

“And where do you see yourself in a century or two?” you wondered, lazily drawing a sharp-nailed hand along his side as the two of you lay in bed.

Yeonjun pushed his lips to the side in thought, his hand buried in his bed head hair. “Truthfully? I crave to be written in our books of history. I want my name to be penned in ink.”

You knew he was a social climber but you didn't know he wanted to make a name for himself in that regard. “Truly?”

Yeonjun nodded. “Why else be immortal if not to be immortalized in history as well?”

You moved to lie on your stomach to focus on the conversation at hand. “How much of our histories have you read?”

Yeonjun smiled, somewhat embarrassed. “A lot. Most of them. There’s a few periods I haven’t been able to get my hands on. The Rose Wars seem to be kept by only the oldest of us.” You raised an eyebrow at him and he had the decency to duck his head and laugh. “Yes, that includes you.”

“There’s a reason the Rose Wars aren’t readily available.” You sighed, drawing a sheet up with you as you made to sit on the side of the bed.

Yeonjun wrapped his arms around you from behind and absentmindedly bit you on your shoulder. He didn’t break skin but it was almost a worried movement, like a puppy that needed to teeth. “Is that a no?”

You patted his hand in reassurance. “That’s a no for now, my pet,” you informed him.

“Is there something else I could tempt you into saying yes to?” Yeonjun’s voice lilted, teasing and tempting wrapped into one sentence.

“There’s a few things you could tempt me into saying yes to, Yeonjun,” you mused.

“Ride me? Ride me hard?” Yeonjun practically whispered into your skin.

You found that you couldn't say no, like you figured.

Yeonjun had a perfect body to gaze upon while you rode him. Since it was his request to ride him hard, you glided your pussy lips along his length and made him squirt on his stomach for the first round. Insatiable for the faces and noises he made when he came, you were quick to push his cock inside of you, covered in his own cum, enjoying the stretch that came with it. You were bouncing on him in no time, making Yeonjun cry out.

“So much!” He moaned, blunt nails digging into your thighs and hips, leaving crescent moons in their wake.

“You can take it, can’t you, my pet?” You purred, pussy pumping his cock for pleasure.

Yeonjun nodded, tears threatening to spill down his face. Once he worked through the over stim, his hips began to buck up into your ass, seeking pleasure that your cunt was giving. Your body undulated above him in waves, taking it slow. You moved a hand behind you to brace your weight, watching as Yeonjun’s cock dived into your swollen cunt again and again.

“Such a pretty cock for such a pretty man,” You teased.

Yeonjun’s fangs delicately dug into his lips. You could see he was attempting to hold back his own pleasure to wait for your own but he was simply too easy to pet and wind up. He watched with wide eyes as you sucked on your middle finger and brought it to your clit. He couldn't handle the way your pussy clenched with the added pleasure and he came inside of you, his second orgasm of the night.

You tsked loudly, watching the blood he had drunk from the vessel you two had shared climb up his neck and cheeks in a heated blush. “You have some training to do, Yeonjun.”

Yeonjun panted, a whine threatening to escape the back of his throat. His cock was still hard inside of you but you were overstimulating him again. You leaned forward to chuck his chin. ��Take it, my pet. You won’t have to endure this if you could only hold your own pleasure back.”

Yeonjun’s fists curled into the sheets below him, that previous whine finally growing big enough to pour from his pretty pink lips. His body attempted to shrink away from the pleasure/pain you were giving him but there was no avoiding it when his cock was so deep inside of you.

“How…can I…hnnnnn…compete against…your experience?” Yeonjun managed to push out.

You chuckled darkly. “You’re the one that looked to seduce an elder, youngling.”

Yeonjun laughed, and you wondered if you’d push this one past his line of sanity. “If I had known what I was getting into…”

You moved to press your chest against his, lips a mere whisper from touching his. “Would you have stopped yourself?” You wondered.

“No, I would have prepared,” Yeonjun corrected you.

You slanted your lips over his, giving him a messy kiss, careful of his fangs. Yours were carefully tucked away, a trick one learned later in your vampire life. “I prefer to break my toys,” You told him.

Yeonjun locked his arms behind your back, with the new strength a youngling vampire possessed. He was stronger than you, in this moment, and there was nothing you could do to stop him--physically at least. You could have sucked him of all his lifeblood or hypnotized him to slit his own wrists if need be, but you wanted to see what Yeonjun would do. With his new speed, you found yourself on your hands and knees, your face pushed into the sheets where only moments Yeonjun’s back was on. This new angle hit deep inside of you, and you moaned at the sensations it brought as well.

“If--If--” The slapping of Yeonjun’s pelvis to your ass was punctuated by Yeonjun’s hisses at the feeling of his cock inside of you. “If I can hold back this time--If I can make you come--You’ll give me the book I need.”

“I’ll do no such thing,” You laughed, muffling another groan as Yeonjun’s cock was hitting the deep part of you.

“A chapter,” Yeonjun bargained.

You laughed again but Yeonjun wasn’t giving up. He grabbed your wrists and crossed them behind your back. Your ass was truly bouncing off his pelvis now. You had to give him this; he was fucking you good. Good enough to keep him around, maybe.

“You think one lousy withheld orgasm is enough to learn restricted texts?” You barked in disbelief.

Yeonjun grasped both your elbows, pulling your lower body upwards, giving all the leverage and control he needed to truly fuck you. You were at a loss of words now. All you could do was moan in pleasure but Yeonjun wasn’t as pussy drunk as he had been before. Had it been an act for you to lower your guard?

“I’ll fuck you for a hundred years, receive a word for each day, if that meant I could learn.”

The words shock you to your core, and almost sober you. “Who are you?”

“You know my name.” Yeonjun’s smirk could be heard through his voice. “Scream it loudly so the others can hear it.”

~~~Present time~~~

“Are you going to see her again?” Taehyun asked with wide eyes.

Beomgyu twitched his phone left and right as he played a game on it. “Of course he is. He’s stupid. That hasn’t changed.”

“Beomgyu!” Soobin scolded the younger vampire.

Beomgyu rolled his eyes. “What? You think so too.”

Soobin rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeonjun, look--”

Yeonjun waved his hand at Soobin, half his face pulled into a sneer. “Don’t bother, Soobin.”

“Do you even remember what her voice sounds like?” Kai asked the hard questions.

“We’re together when we sleep, of course I do,” Yeonjun shouted over his shoulder.

The castle was so old, he had to watch his step. Torches had changed to flickering lights to LED mood lights. The world had changed but Yeonjun’s resolve hadn't. He was going to be there when you woke up. When, being the key word.

Life was different now. Instead of fiefdoms, vampires owned well-to-do companies. Beomgyu owned half of Silicon Valley. Blood taking was exchanged through Snapchat and Whatsapp. The vampires didn’t fight much over territory anymore but you might see a few get into it at a club, if they had a long-standing feud. The only thing that hadn't changed was Yeonjun’s unwavering loyalty to you.

~~~In the Past~~~

A hundred years soon passed. Yeonjun was barely through a quarter of the history he had sought after but it almost wasn’t as important as it had been when he first had sought to make himself a part of your life. Now, he was your right hand, the one who ensured your choices and rulings were followed. He easily killed in your name. It wasn’t that he utterly loved you, which was the case, but more so your mind, your justice, was law and word for him. He would follow you into the bowels of hell and back, if only to make sure your feet never felt a spark of heat from the underworld.

“Yeonjun?”

Your lover was always a step or two behind you no matter where you went. Tonight you were on the rooftops of your castle, viewing the beautiful night sky. The moon was mostly covered with a shadow and that saddened you. You had wished to see her in all of her glory. At least you had the stars.

“My love?” Yeonjun moved to your side, palm sliding along yours until his hand clasped yours.

“There’s a war coming. The air smells of unrest. The humans are a superstitious lot but the world’s been bad to them these few decades. They’ll look to revolt. They usually always do when they think there’s someone to blame.”

Yeonjun slid to lean on one knee, bringing your hand to his lips as he kissed it. “I will eradicate them.”

Your eyes slid to Yeonjun. He wasn’t a youngling anymore but he didn’t have the centuries you had under your belt. He had yet to really read the ebb and flow, despite his years with his nose in a book. He would get there. You had faith.

Your eyes moved back to the sky. Even the ocean full of lights changed, and it seemed untouched by time. “Just prepare yourself, my pet.”

Yeonjun perked up, and if he had been a dog, his ears would have been pointed forward to you to listen. “Can we play tonight?”

You tossed back your head and laughed. Tears beaded at the corner of your eyes, you were laughing so hard. “You’d think that your libido would have died down a smidgeon.”

Yeonjun slowly but firmly kissed up your arm. “I always crave your body; I am never satiated.”

“I love you,” You murmured.

Yeonjun’s eyes softened, eyes lighting up with adoration of you. “My heart will only stop beating when yours does.”

You scoffed. “Such an outdated way to commit yourself as a vampire. We died a long time ago, Yeonjun.”

Yeonjun looked at you with every serious bone in his body. “If there is no you, there is no me. Our bones and muscles are knit together. There is no beginning or end. It is simply you and me.”

“I thought you read history not poetry,” You teased. Still, you exchanged a loving kiss.

“I read whatever I can get my hands on,” Yeonjun argued, lips chasing after yours when you sought to finish the kiss. “Now answer my question.”

You cupped Yeonjun’s soft cock through his leather pants. “Let’s get you some blood first. Then we can play to your heart's content.”

Yeonjun’s fingertips tickled your jaw as he looked to steal more kisses. “I need only your breath against my lips, your heartbeat against mine--oof!” He clutched his stomach where you had hit him. “Okay, enough poetic words, I get it!”

~~~Present Time~~~

Yeonjun found his familiar place by your coffin, folding his arms under his chin so he could stare at your face. These days he swore he could see micro expressions on your face. He was sure he could tell when you were reliving your nightmares instead of dreams. There was the tiniest of frown lines between your eyebrows but no one else could see it when he pointed out. He could also tell when you were living the good times with him. He had studied the curve of your lips for centuries; he fucking knew when they had a sliver of a smile. He often made you do that when you were awake, not looking to validate his corny lines.

You were waking up soon. He knew it. Once upon a time, you told him that you could anticipate what would happen next. That you had lived so many lives and so many faces that you had accumulated the sense when change was coming. Yeonjun had finally earned that trick after centuries of watching over you.

“I have so much to show you when you wake up,” Yeonjun sighed softly. “But first, you're going to fuck me until I can't forget what it feels like to be inside of you again.”

“Yeon…jun…?”

Yeonjun threw himself backwards, the raspy voice coming from the glass coffin filled with flowers scaring him. He rubbed his eyes, blinked several times and then crawled back up to where you were lying. Your eyes were pale, indicating you definitely needed some blood, but they were open.

Tears gathered at the corners of Yeonjun’s eyes but he smiled so brightly. “You’re awake.”

Your eyes widened with the recognition that your lover was indeed not dead. You sat up with speed becoming of a vampire, sending the top of the glass coffin straight into the wall adjacent. It shattered with bone-rattling noise, but you only had eyes for Yeonjun. “You’re alive.”

“I have waited for you,” Yeonjun sobbed, his shoulders shaking. “I have been here while you slumbered, guarding your body. Have you dreamt of me, my love? Was I good to you in your dreams?”

You raised your sharp-nailed hand to cup Yeonjun’s face. His tears wetted your hand but you cared not. “How long?”

Yeonjun hiccupped. “I’m almost as old as you were when you began to sleep.”

“Oh, Yeonjun,” You lamented.

“I was here every day. Every year. Every century. I knew you would need to see me, to touch me to believe I was real. I don’t care how long you slept. I just wanted to be here when you woke up.” Yeonjun’s shoulders finally stopped quivering, calming down.

You smiled so tenderly at Yeonjun in that moment, and he swore he might break, like the glass coffin lid you had shattered only moments ago. This moment didn’t feel real but it was all Yeonjun wanted, for this to be real. “You really did mean when you said that it is simply you and me.”

Yeonjun took your hand cupping his face and brought it to his lips to kiss the back of it, just like the last night you shared before you were fooled into thinking he was no more. It made your throat tighten with emotion. “My heart will only stop beating when yours does.”

You surged forward, throwing your arms around Yeonjun’s neck, and kissed him. You kissed him like it had been you waiting five hundred years for HIM to wake up. “I love you,” you gasped. “My heart will only stop beating when yours does.”

Yeonjun lifted you out of your coffin, cradling you in his arms. He carried you into the main chamber of the castle. He had to cross through them to bring you to his bedroom--your shared bedroom.

“Holy shit.” Beomgyu whistled. “She's fucking awake.”

Kai dropped his phone on his face in shock while Soobin smacked the back of Beomgyu’s head. “Have some respect.”

Taehyun teared up but dashed his tears away. “Romance isn’t dead!”

“Wait…Yeonjun! Where are you going?” Soobin called out.

You chuckled under your breath. “Did you say I was going to fuck you until you can't forget what it feels like to be inside of me again?”

Yeonjun hefted you in his arms so he could bury his face into your neck. “I know you just came from a coffin but I don't think you will be leaving the bed for a few days.”

#codn: spring24 #cultofdionysusnet #kvanity #kwritersworldnet #txt smut #choi yeonjun smut #tomorrow x together smut #yeonjun smut #choi yeonjun x reader #topaz's work #recent #ツtxt

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kaitokitty19 · 3 months

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Pandora AU: Home pt.1

Snippet written for my Pandora AU where Kaito became immortal and he travels around with Hakuba. In the following part, Hakuba’s around his 40s.

———

"Don't you ever want to settle down somewhere?"

Right now, Kaito was curled up next to Saguru's body, which always generates heat like a furnace. It's chilling despite the heater. Kaito instinctively moved closer to the heat source.

In response, Hakuba only petted his hair absent-mindedly and gave a distracted hum. He was busy perusing the file marked "URGENT" Interpol had forwarded earlier that evening, interrupting their dinner. The file had been printed out into a thick stack of paper – getting along in his 40s, long screen time had started to tire Saguru's eyes out quicker; they’re always red and watery after staring at his monitor for a long case, hence the printing.

Always bringing murders and terrorists and whatnot horror into their bed, that bastard. But Kaito could hardly find it in him to complain; not when Saguru is this dastardly handsome with all his fine lines and glasses and laser focus. His juvenile cockiness might have dulled somewhat in age, but his eyes remained as sharp as ever. Kaito imagined he could be cut through with a look. God, he wish he could age with him.

"I already am."

"Huh?" Kaito startled, forgetting that it was him who asked.

"I said ‘I already am’," Saguru reiterated, eyes still glued to inked black and white and free hand waving vaguely around as if that alone should make sense, "settled, that is."

Kaito followed the directions of his wild gestures. Yes, their apartment is nice and all: a tasteful cream-colored motif, delicate plaster ceiling rose, high windows and ceilings, spacious, with a spectacular view of the Eiffel Tower. The Hakuba Corp spared no expense in making sure its young master was happy, and this was no exception. From the most cutting-edge technology to the most beautiful antique furniture, everything seamlessly pieced together in a coherent harmony of livable space. Everything was at his fingertips. Kaito could spend all day mopping around the place without feeling an ounce of claustrophobia. And he did, occasionally - on which days Kaito felt more like a spoiled cat than an actual person. That Hakuba would come home from whatever businesses he tended to, shrug off his trench coat and shoes before bending over the sofa and spoil him with indulgent kisses certainly didn't help the case.

Even if he were to nitpick, there was nothing to bemoan about. But they had scantly been there 5 months. Kaito was sure there were suitcases at the bottom of their closet that had yet been unpacked. 'Settling down' wouldn't be how he would describe it. Nor would it apply to any of their previous many relocations.

"That's not... I mean, don’t you get tired, of moving around like this? Hardly get to see your friends and family? Never allow yourself to take root somewhere? Isn't it suffocating building your life around me?"

This had Saguru's attention. He lowered the case file and turned those keen eyes onto Kaito. The way Kaito's breath hitched was completely involuntary.

"Does it bother you?"

"It doesn't matter, does it? I don't have a choice." There was no use talking around it. With Pandora, Kaito could hardly stay anywhere longer than a handful of years before his unchanging appearance raised a few eyebrows. "But you do. Wouldn't you rather have a home to come back to instead of hotel rooms and new fancy penthouses every other year?"

They were already getting looks as they were, from the way master Hakuba always had a young twenty-something draping over his arm. There had been hushes and whispers that Kaito knew that Saguru feigned oblivion to, only to quietly have them moved within the week.

He hadn't noticed he had been fidgeting until Saguru took hold of his restless fingers, the warmth of his hand effectively stopped his anxious tingle from spreading from his fingertips.

"Kaito," Hakuba sighed, exasperated but firm, like he had said what he was going to say next a thousand times before and had absolute faith in it. And maybe he had. Kaito just couldn't quite bring himself to believe him, "as long as I am with you, I'm already home."

#pandora #dcmk #hakukai #hakuba saguru #detco #kuroba kaito #magic kaito #kaitou kid #sagukai #白快 #au #detective Conan #fic #pamdora au #writing

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the-stardom · 11 months

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StarDom!Multiverse Star Sanses

OG Dream!Sans by @/jokublog

OG Swap!Sans by [N/A]

OG Ink!Sans by @/comyet & @/myebi

⸻

The StarDom!Multiverse is an alternative Multiverse that follows my own view and head-canon of the characters we all know and love.

He was born 2 minutes before Nightmare, but he plays along on being the younger one because that makes Nightmare happy

Had some suspicions about the abuse the villagers did to Nightmare, but didn't want to jump into conclusion

He himself has been used and abused by the villagers but though it was normal for the guardian of positivity to help

He was 8 when the apple incident happened

It took around 500 years for him to escape the stone prison and developed claustrophobia and PTSD

His first friend was Haventale Sans, although they don't talk as much they used to do nowadays

Biologically speaking he's 500+ years old, but mentally he's only 16 making him hypothetically the youngest of the Stars

Was friends with Ink before an argument, let them apart

He knows that the current Nightmare isn't his brother, but because they share the same body he believes that they are still connected

No one knows, but he's #1 Nightmare fan

Does have a forked tongue due to an "accident"

He has mastered his control over emotions and can release or hold in both positive and negative emotions

[More to be added]

An excellent liar, sometimes he forgets that the thing he said was a lie

He's kind but not a pushover

He also can be mean sometimes when he's stressed

He was about to transform into an error before Error threw him away from his Anti-Void, and that caused him to become invulnerable to Error and obtain new powers

He can hop around the multiverse, create stars as weapons (similar to Asriel's stars) and he's almost immortal but can still die through violent ways

He was friends with Ink before the errorfication but stopped after Ink told him he was replaceable as there are many versions of him

Dream rescued Blue when he was thrown away

Has a scar on his neck caused by Error

Held a grudge against Error for making him unable to go home but got over it

Because part of him is an error, he has become more impulsive

Is insecure about the black bones on his body, therefore his covers it

Very good at manipulation

Uses his reputation as "cute swap sans" to get what he wants (and it works most of the time)

If angered, he can start glitching, especially on his cape

[More to be added]

Often visit Underswap, where he was, indeed, replaced with another Sans

Doesn't cook as often as none of the Stats needed to eat

Hates being in the Anti-Void, even if he can go out on his own

He still believes that everyone can change if they just try

He will prioritize Swap AUs over others

He does have emotions, he just need to activate them with paint

Has a pet snake that he stole adopted named Peppy

The snake species is Terciopelo or Bothrops Asper

Forgot Dream and Blue were no longer friend with him and tried to befriend them again

He can and will ignore the laws of physics

Can grant creatures the ability to hop around the Multiverse

He hates being alone, especially in the Anti-Void

After befriended Dream and Blue again, he has written their information on his scarf (He doesn't remember that they were past friends)

He is quite apathetic and can't understand the emotions of other people very well, but that doesn't mean he doesn't care

Surprisingly, he's the therapist of the group!

Often forget Dream and Blue's name and when he does, he calls them buddy, friend or pal

Hates it when it happens because even with his bad memory he knows that they are someone important to him

[More to be added]

No matter how apathetic he can be, he is more than capable to know when someone is using him

Have never tried makeup until Dream and Blue showed him

Calls Error "mou chou"

⸻

The star badges on their outfit is a tool created with their magic

Blue's magic created its shape

Dream's magic gave a protection and healing overtime

Ink's magic can make them teleport back to base with only a drop of magic

#sans au #undertale au #utmv #utmv au #dream sans #dream #swap sans #blue #ink sans #ink #stardom multiverse #starcase art #starcase references

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dani-dabbles · 9 months

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A Prince Restored, A Lover Lost

Title: A Prince Restored, A Lover Lost

Artists: @capcavan and @another-random-stranger

Beta: quill_and-ink (AO3)

Rating: Teen and Up

Pairings: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood

Word Count: 24k+

Summary: A SH 2x12 canon-divergent story where Magnus isn’t rescued by Alec and is executed in Valentine’s body by the Clave. His last moments of life are that of absolute agony…

…until the moment he wakes up in Edom and in the company of Asmodeus.

Given a second chance at immortal life, Magnus returns to New York only to discover that, despite the seemingly fleeting moments he’d spent in death, decades have passed in the mortal realm.

In a desperate attempt to reconnect with the Downworld/Shadowhunter family he was just beginning to build, Magnus finds everything and everyone changed. And the one he misses the most…he can’t find at all.

Devastated and unmoored, Magnus returns to his loft. And while the place is mostly the same (aside from inches of dust and stale air), it's the pile of mail at the door that stops him short. Because among the credit card applications, coupon sheets, and charity solicitations, are letters. Letters upon letters and each is labeled to mark the passing of time - Day 3, Day 64, Day 378, Day 1104 - all written in a heartbreakingly familiar hand.

Through Alec’s words, the events after Magnus’ passing begin to unfold. And with each painful letter, a hopeful path back to the man who had the makings to be Magnus’ greatest love begins to be revealed.

Link to AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49775434/chapters/125643631

This fic was created for the Shadowhunters Mini Bang 2023: Presented by the @malecdiscordserver.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Epilogue

#shmb2023 #shadowhunters fic #malec fic #malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #alec x magnus #shadowhunters #shadowhunters tv #sh fanart #shadowhunters fan art #malec fanfic #dani-dabbles-fic

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abberant-butler · 1 year

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It's hard to know Solomon has body modifications. Sure, you know about Pact marks, but usually the bearer has the choice of placement and on rare occasions, color and intensity. A powerful wizard like Solomon, contractor of 72 demons, including an Avatar? Surely he'd keep them small or invisible entirely. Asmo always tries to bribe you with 'the secrets of the shirt', but it's also Asmo. Sweet as he can be, he'd do plenty of things for attention.

It's not hard to know that Solomon has a lot of books. Books from his childhood. Books from his early learnings. Priceless books. Useless books. Books for trading favors, books for learning spells, books and books and books. Where he less insistent on pacts or even just a better cook, he and Satan might've been best friends.

Long sleeves and a high collar. That's what Solomon always wears. Even his RAD uniform is buttoned to the top. Jackets and capes and blazers and sweaters and vests and the oddest choices of accents and jewelry. But, really, when compared to angels, demons, and reapers, Solomon isn't that strange in his outfits.

Solomon keeps his distance. He's old enough to know better than to get close. Immortals have motives, and mortals never last. But you. It's been... different. Hard to say how, and harder still to decide what it means, yet still true.

You're different. So it's without a thought that after a disastrous spill of a potion that Solomon excused himself to go to his dresser to get a new shirt. Just barely in view, but clearly unintentionally, he's revealed. The secret of Solomon's shirt is that it's simply his cover. Like any of the tomes in his collection, he's written across in ink. Large, small, broken strings of text, full sigils. Barbatos once said that Solomon never made a pact without a purpose, and it's clear that he honors those by both size, placement, and legibility.

More, as his arms rise up to slip into overly long sleeves, you see the silver glints of metal. Symmetrical piercings at his collarbone, nipples, and hips. Catching him in profile, you can only imagine the matching ones on the other side.

As briefly as the book of Solomon has opened, it closes. The shirt covers its secrets again. The cloak layers over to be the focal point once again. If he caught you staring, he doesn't embarrass you to draw attention to it. Instead, it's a soft apology for taking away from your time together, and a refocusing on the work at hand.

Solomon's smile, of course, never quite fades. Who knows what a favorite person could get if only they simply asked for more.

#drabble #om solomon #solomon x mc #solomon obey me #obey me!#omswd

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kaleahsbraindump · 6 months

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out with the old & in with the new

I love finishing journals. it always feels like the closing out of a chapter or like a mini new year. possibilities seem endless.

I’ve been consistently keeping journals since i was around 15, and have all of them stowed away in my closet. they’re such time capsules.

I think what draws me in so closely to journaling is the preservation of memory. I’m such a sentimental ass person. hahaha. constantly reminiscing or longing for past feelings and experiences, almost to a fault, or to the point where i wouldn’t be shocked if it led to a downfall of sorts.

But i also just find such comfort and genuine beauty in all of it. When you write about a situation in the freshness of it, you get to put down intense detail into ink, almost immortalizing every crevice and corner that your own brain’s memory might blur out over time. Looking back on things I’ve written at 15, 18, 20, or even things I’ve written 2 months ago, give me such vivid insight into every version of myself that I’ve been, and how it’s led to who i am now.

The beginning of a new journal gives me that same vividness, but in the opposite direction. More in the direction of opportunity. Opportunity to imagine and conjure up of all the versions of myself that are to come.

If you don’t journal, and you’re anything like me (or not!!), i really really suggest you try it! It really is a beautiful thing & im sure I’ll be doing for as long as I’m around.

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moorishflower · 1 year

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10 Stories/10 First Lines meme

Okay oh gosh I was tagged by a BUNCH of lovely folks, including @softest-punk @xx-vergil-xx @that-banhus @pellaaearien and MORE holy shit

So the rules are: post the first lines of your 10 most recently published AO3 stories. I am going from most recently updated here!

If I Please You (Dream/Hob, 1389 AU, WIP) The pendulum swing of the ruby is what catches Herry’s eye.

Imprimatur (Dream/Hob, Gutenberg oneshot, complete) It's the ink, maybe.

Radio Silence (Dream/Hob, The Last of Us fusion, complete) Ten years ago, the world ended all at once.

Foundations (Dream/Hob, epilogue to Hallmark-Adjacent, always human AU, complete) “Shit,” Hob says, looking up at the exceedingly posh, exceedingly clean, exceedingly well-appointed houses of Alexander Square.

Here there be dragons (Dream/Hob, siren/scifi AU, complete) Hob is off-planet when the story hits the galactic news crawl.

Hallmark-Adjacent (Dream/Hob, always human Hallmark movie AU, complete) Morpheus finds himself thinking about the liminal spaces of the world.

Ab instrumento ad corpus (Dream/Hob, the one where I succeeded in writing fisting but it took 27k to do it, complete) Dream has come to enjoy the tactile pleasures of the Waking.

I Wanna Hold Your Hand (Dream/Hob, the one where I kind of succeeded in writing fisting but it turned into angst first, complete) His Stranger's hands are beautiful.

Fey Divorce Court Isn't A Thing (Dream/Hob, established relationship 'performing for the Fae court', complete) What no one tells you about being married to an Endless, eldritch, unfathomable being is that, eventually, once those three things become sort of incorporated into your worldview, the rest of it becomes rather domestic.

Maybe sprout wings (Dream/Hob, inspired by The Odyssey/Hob dies and achieves immortality through the Dreaming AU, complete) "You know there's a new man in the Dreaming, right?"

Honorable Mentions (i.e not written completely by me or not posted yet)

Fuckboi Hob vs The HR-Worthy Confrontation (always human AU, which I co-wrote with @dancinbutterfly <3) It is a perfectly beautiful late winter afternoon.

Oreo Sandwich AU (my current WIP which is a retired!Dream/Hob/Daniel getting together fic currently parked at 119k of three-way longing and misunderstandings) Hob wakes to the sour bite of bile in his mouth, a pounding head, and the sound of his doorbell ringing.

If you see this floating around feel free to participate my head hurts too much to tag people rn <3<3<3 love you all~

#tumblr meme

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inkwell-and-dagger · 7 months

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Ring-Bound Notebook

Hey! Yeah, uh- you! Before you proceed, this written work may contain:

blood, torture, prolonged captivity, multiple whumpers, whumper-turned-whumpee, amputation, multiple failed escape attempts, immortal whumpee, potential re-living trauma??, impalement, phrase repetition, slight rescue / recovery whump at the end, suicidal ideation / thoughts

Vanté Ramirez, Vesker Faithern and Fletcher O'Harris belong to my wonderful mutual, @er0s-1s-whump1ng / @paranoia-exe!! go check him out!!!!

—> —> —> —> —> —>

Looking down at the bloodied notebook he'd resented for so long stuffed into his bedside table, Rayan sighed. He swore to never re-read the notebook, reluctant to live out the years of captivity he went through, but.. he just couldn't handle it.

Vigorously snatching the notebook up, he flopped down onto his bed, drawing his knees up to his chest and wrapping bandaged arms around them. He despised how the damned thing felt so right in his hands; it fit in his grasp perfectly, cold and familiar.

He'd never admit it, but it took him a while to even start the first page, let alone open the notebook itself. He just stared at the cover, at the stickers — worn down with time, scratched or even peeling and ripped— caked in dried blood. His dried blood.

But eventually, to his own dismay, his finger clasped tighter around the notebook, and with strangely baited breath he flicked open to the first page. It seemed as though a nice little trip down memory lane was in order.

Zayn never exactly had a purpose for a notebook. Ring bound with multiple stickers he'd collected during their childhood stuck onto the cover, he just didn't know what to do with it. The useless thing was just.. laying around; plus, he had a diary of his own now. Esrana told him to give it to "the thing in the basement". And her reasoning behind giving it to Rayan? It was because both of them were useless. Great.

"Hey. I've got this for you. Es told me to hand it to you since I don't need it. It'll keep you occupied!" Rayan distinctly remembered Zayn telling him that before setting the notebook down in front of him, his soft Welsh accent ringing pleasantly in his ears.

Alas, Zayn handed it to Rayan during one of their visits, along with two pens. One's ink was in black, the other was in blue, since the former didn't know which colour he preferred. Looking back, it seemed to Rayan that he preferred blue, and the black pen he must've used to doodle and scribble in the margin of each page or wherever else he could fit it.

They promised to give Rayan new pens whenever they ran out and, as usual, he stuck to it; not once did Rayan see even a hint of the ink on either of the pens running dry.

The first few pages were worn and torn, some having been ripped out entirely. The ones that weren't were filled with notes in Zayn's unusually neat script about god knows what — from his time in school to his mother and Esrana, from simple reminders to full paragraphs of rambles. Rayan didn't have the heart to judge them, even now.

A couple pages after, and it was the start of Rayan's own ramblings. Oh, how Rayan dreaded this moment.

He set the notebook down in his lap, evergreen eyes skimming over the pages.

Date: ?

Time: ?

I don't know how this is meant to benefit me. Sure, the notebook's nice and all, I like it. I don't know. There's not much I can write in here, since my captivity isn't very special. I guess I can just I think nevermind. I'll just ramble about fuck all.

I hate this place. I can hardly sleep because I keep hearing footsteps from the floor above this fucking basement. I don't know how many of them there are. I know about the guy with the bat, and the one who keeps staring at me and who I've never really seen blinking yet, and the girl who's Zayn's sister. That's all. I swear there's more of them, though.

I can't be sure. But, at least Zayn gives me food and also gave me a blanket and some pillows so I can sleep. Sure, the ground isn't comfortable, but I can somewhat lay on the pillows, which is good enough. Totally not as if my back hurts already and this is just making it worse. Totally not. Why am I even mad at Zayn?

I'm gonna try and sleep. Emphasis on try. Everything hurts.

"God's sake.." Rayan mumbled hoarsely, pinching the bridge of his nose. He had to admit, that one wasn't all bad. But, he knew worse was to come.

He flicked over to the next page.

Date: ? sometime in October (Zayn told me)

Time: ?

There's more of them. It's- this is ridiculous. Fucking Ezra???

I can't believe he'd side with them. Hell, I don't know what to say anymore. Fuck this shit.

I also keep getting hurt by the bat guy; their names Foster, apparently. I don't wanna explain what they did with that stupid fucking bat of theirs, other than they hit me somewhere on the back and it really hurts because they screwed fucking nails into the bat. I hate this.

I don't even know what I did wrong.

Rayan scoffed. "'I don't even know what I did wrong', my ass.."

His attention turned to the next page. A little more blood was splattered across the paper, and there were obvious signs he'd been crying when he wrote this.

Date: ?

Time: ?

Everything fucking hurts. More and more of them keep coming down and torturing me and hurting me and I'm just sick of this shit. I can't get even a moment of fucking peace anymore. What did I do?

He was surprised how short this one was. He couldn't remember why he had cut it so short in the first place.

The next page.

Date:

Time:

Oh my god. Oh my god. Fuck. He- Holy shit.

I can't even fucking what the fuck. It hurts so bad. Fuck. Okay. I need to calm down.

Oh, no.

Rayan flicked to the next page with shaking hands.

Date:

Time:

Writing this whilst Zayn bandages me up. I'm so tired. So much has been going on.

Madir, he. He cut off my fucking leg. I had tried to escape by attacking Foster and getting out of the basement, and I was so fucking close when Madir got me (Madir's the one who keeps staring. I don't know what his problem is). Then.. I don't even wanna remember.

The torture's been getting worse. Esrana threw me out a window at one point. They've also found out that, despite me being immortal, I can somewhat die if they slit my throat. They keep doing it, and from what I understand they play some sort of game where they compete and the winner is the person who keeps me "dead" for the longest. So far, I think Ezra has.

I should've never started killing people. I've already served my time in prison, and now this? I don't deserve this I think I deserve it, though.

Next page, and this time Rayan had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from tearing up.

Date:

Time:

There's so much blood. The floor is stained with it, my restraints are stained with it, Hell, even my bed. Thankfully, Zayn let me out of the restraints so I can write.

I swear, this is the only thing I can rely on to not lose my fucking mind. The smell of blood and.. other stuff is intoxicating, I hate it. I hate this. I hate Esrana, and Foster, and Zayn, and Madir, and Ezra, and Fletcher— God, fucking Fletcher! We were friends! And now he just watches me waste away here?!

I've felt too sick to eat and sleep. I don't care anymore. I doubt people even remember me. I hope Maddie's okay. And Vee. And.. I don't know. Who do I have?

I'm gonna try and escape. I can't walk, given my leg from the thigh down is missing, but.. whatever. I'll manage.

Next page. This one seemed more recent.

Date:

Time:

It didn't work as well as the other times. There's a fucking- I don't what it is, but it's stuck in my other leg and practically keeping me impaled and pinned onto the floor. It hurts so bad.

I've given up trying to fight by now. I just want to make it stop. I wish I could die. I wish I never existed. I wish I never began killing people. I wish I could kill myself.

I deserve this.

Rayan's spare hand ran over his prosthetic leg, sighing. He never realized how much he himself had suffered. It all felt unreal. It's why he thought about it as if it were just a story, or a silly nightmare. Everything was silly at this point.

He flicked past the other pages, skimming through them, until one near the end of the notebook caught his eyes. Reading cautiously, he placed his chin on his hand and couldn't help but notice his handwriting was more neat. And no blood was splattered on the page.

Date: 26/10

Time: 3:26 PM

It's my birthday! I forgot how old I am. I'm in the hospital right now, I think. It's a long story, but I'm alone right now, save for Maddie sleeping and Vee idly talking to me. I've got plenty of time.

The Survivors got arrested. I escaped from the police - they scare me, okay? I thought they were gonna hurt me - and went to god-knows-where. I stayed homeless for a time, occasionally couch surfing or staying at a new friend's house. She's called Evelyn. She's nice.

Anyway. Maddie and Vee eventually found me, and took me home and then (after seeing how shitty I looked) took me to the hospital instead. It's been a funny couple of days, especially with me learning that these doctors don't want to hurt me and that the things being put into my body won't harm me, but.. at least I'm free. They're gonna get me a prosthetic soon.

I get to see Vesk again. I get to see Theo. And Maddie's fiance, Vivian. Maddie's reluctant to invite me to the wedding, since she knows I need time to recover, but I can tell she really does want to.

Something feels wrong, though. That I don't deserve to rest. I keep imagining restraints around me. I keep hearing them laugh. I keep.. nevermind. It's fine, though.

I don't think I'm gonna be sharing what's in this notebook. It's better to keep it a secret. I don't want people worrying about me more than they already are. Especially Maddie.

Maddie's waking up, I think. I'm home now. I think. I'm gonna be okay now. I think. I don't know. I hope so.

Rayan suddenly glanced up as he heard his bedroom door creak open, squinting up at Vanté. He was a mere silhouette against the absurdly bright hallway light. The notebook slammed shut.

"Hi, Vee." They both grinned.

"Hey," The demon responded, his deep voice rumbling pleasantly in Rayan's ears. "Mum's called you down three times, cause we're going out for dinner today. She said you can bring Tadhg if you want to, too. You coming?"

He chuckled, getting up with a soft groan and setting his notebook down, grabbing a jacket as he spoke. "Yeah, yeah, I'll be down in a sec. Is this—" he gestured to his outfit— "too flashy?"

"Of course not," Vanté waved off his question with a smile. "It's perfect."

"Oh, hush."

Both of them couldn't help but laugh. Vanté's diamond eyes glanced downwards, noticing the notebook. "What's that?"

"Huh-? Oh, that?" Rayan chuckled nervously, quickly shoving the book under his pillow. "Just a uh- a thing."

The demon didn't respond directly, but gave him a knowing smile. Rayan had an inkling the demon had experienced something similar to what he himself was feeling.

Before the silence could get more uncomfortable than it already was, the demon grabbed the immortal's hand and dragged him out of the room, earning a surprised laugh from the latter. "Come on, lazy ass. Don't bother getting platforms, it's a long walk.

"Awwhh, we're not driving there?"

"It's not that bad, kid."

"Hey- I'm not a kid!"

"You are to me!"

They both laughed. Maybe life wasn't that bad after all.

—> —> —> —> —> —>

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authoruio · 1 year

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An author who write bittersweet endings. Created a puppet so it could be someone better than her. (backfired)

A patient, diligent author who will take any task given to her. But mind you, she still have some limits even if she is an Immortal.

ᵇⁱᵍ ˢⁱˢᵗᵉʳ ᵛⁱᵇᵉˢ

Name: Jiyoon Lockhart (Han Jiyoon/한지윤)

"Jiyoon" 지윤 means "purpose" or "Good Luck" "Han" 한 means "King". "deep sorrow" or "resentment"

Nickname: Author/ Luck, LuckLuck

Other nicknames: Beauté froide/ Cold Beauty, Reine des Arts/ Queen of Arts, Reine des contes et fables/ Queen of tales and fables (Rook), Pufferfish (Floyd), Mushroom Appraiser (Jade), Fine potato (Vil), Author (UiO), Witch, Story/Fable maker (Mitch)

Relatives: UiO (So-called Sister), Miren (Half-brother), Aori (Cousin)

Species: Immortal (was originally a mortal at the age of 18)

A quiet laid-back immortal who enjoys being the one to witness peoples actions, on rare cases, jumping in if she ever sees a reason to do so. She rarely engage in any form of contact often letting her interest or curiosity lead her to new association. She finds inspiration in what little acts the people around her do, observing from afar, or interacting with them.

She is quite a curious soul despite roaming worlds and seeing many fascinating things throughout her journey. She is a responsible person who just wants to rest.

Hobbies: Drawing and Writing

Dorm: Pomefiore

Best Subject: Arts

Club: Science Club

She is free to create and destroy anything, so why not?

Favorite Food: Pastries, Sweet and Spicy

Despite liking spicy, she prefers something that is mix between

Least Favorite Food: Bitter and Unpalatable

Bitter melons? Yes, never show that to her, even if you force her.

Unique (World) Magic: Written Effect

With something to write on and a quill, pen, and ink, she can write anything she wants to happen and create anything out of the paper.

It is possible to use it multiple times on multiple mediums. (notebooks, paper, etcetera.)

Sometimes, her written stories can come true, so careful when you ask her to write you something~

Examples of her power

Sentence: Written Effect (this is her most used)

The incomplete version of her power, works simply as what she says happens. Though as the writer she needs to be in the 3rd perspective, referring her subject as how she sees them (i.e. describe them)

ex; A light guides them to safety, running away, fluttering softly.

Story: Written Effect

A completion of her book allows her to bring it to life, creating a very own universe for the "story" to play through the written words. She can also use it at the existing world, as long it has not happened yet.

Time ahead: Written Effect

works as a prediction as what she writes inside of her book happens in a specific time she wants. Using Time Ahead: Written Effect drains her energy significantly, depending on how heavy the content she wrote and want to happen.

Sacrifice: Written Effect

[DATA EXPUNGED!]

Was used a couple of times before Mitch decided to seal it away.

Original World: A world full of chaos. Now can't go back since the medium, UiO is with them.

Original Worlds Alias: Witch of Creation and Fables, Regressors Companion, Calamity Luck

--Additional Info!--

Jiyoon cannot stand Azul's blabber for contracts... she would very much explode in anger if he continues to advertise near her vicinity...

Writing stories and drawing is one of her stress relieves.

If given any chance, she, will curse Vil Schoenheit proudly... in her language of course. :)

Jiyoon just accepted her fate being followed by Rook Hunt after she confronted him and requested him to stop. Spoilers; he didn't.

Jiyoon and Lilia often talk about the past, sometimes hinting the trauma and talk it out together.

Curses (and poison) does not affect Jiyoon, though it will inflict pain, it will just vanish in an hour or so. Vil's unique magic does not affect her either.

She create paper origamis and paper human to either aid her in her work or put some entertainment.

She is accidentally Jade's (unexpected) friend after she accidentally let out a slip of information about certain mushrooms. (She tried her best to get away and lo and behold, it did not work.)

She is best friends with Kyong Dae and they regard each other as sisters-in-arms.

Logs that can be found:

"Words of desire... don't be afraid and tell me what you want to happen, 친구."

#decided to redo their profiles and separate em #twisted wonderland #twsted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #jiyoon luck #◦❧ ui arts

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em-writes-stuff · 6 months

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sickness

day two of @whumpcember

734 words

warnings: talking about dying

Recording of a letter found for Prince Robert, folded in a book on the Old Kings. Writer is not known, but the name starts with an E. From the little writing on the Prince, my guess is Edward “Echo” Song, the child of a baker, who’s suspected of helping Robert’s brother, Timothy, escape an execution. If it’s not Edward, I don’t know who it would be.

The letter appears to be 240-250 years old, given the events written about, and the wear on the paper, and is in pristine condition, considering. Some splotches smear the ink, but it’s still readable.

Let’s get started:

Robbie,

I doubt you thought you’d ever hear from me again. I figure it’s safe enough, with the news of the ban being lifted and your sister taking over the kingdom. Sorry to hear of the king’s death, I know it’s not how you wanted it to happen.

I’ve been thinking of writing you this letter for a while, but I’ve been writing others and gotten a case of nostalgia, so I figured it was time. I’m dying. Not using magic the first half of my life drained a lot of my life from me, and I’m getting weaker by the day. Hopefully I’m able to make it through the winter so I can harvest the garlic I planted earlier. If not, it’ll be stuck in the ground.

I don’t want you to try and track this, not that you would want to, but the only way you’d be getting this is if I died, so I guess that’s happened now. If you did track it, you’d find that I lived a full life, well, as full as it could have been given my circumstances, with two partners I picked up along the way. They’ve done all they can for me and now it’s time I do what’s best for them. So please don’t find them, they’re hurting enough.

I have arranged for some mutual friends of ours to make it to the ball together, they should make it the night of and leave two mornings after. I know their presence will cause quite a stir, but I’ve had them vow not to try anything with the riches of your kingdom, bla, bla, bla. Don’t try anything with them, they’re married now. Anyway, I hope you all have fun, eat some desserts for me.

I heard about the wife, congratulations. It’s a big deal, I never thought you’d find someone to put up with you. Jokes aside, I’m happy for you. I’ll drink to your happiness next time I get a chance.

Spence is safe, I just talked with him a few weeks ago. He lives in a small cottage in a tightly-knit community with a big dog and the other friend who left Terilace with us. She’s not there often, taking more to the travellers life than anything. But, she has a place to hang her gloves when needed, and she’s grateful to it.

As always, I wish you the best with the rest of your life, and hope you don’t get too caught up in the nostalgia of our time together. It would be best for you to throw this letter out, reputations and all. But, if you want to keep it tucked away in something, go ahead.

With all the love in the world,

Well.

I can only assume the “mutual friends” referenced are infamous raiders, Kaya Bloostone and Archibald Blair. If I’m right, it seems Prince Robert was tangled up in a lot more than I’ve read about.

Just as I said, this is most likely written by Edward, I might check with Ezran, seen as he’s the only person still alive to have met him. Damn immortals. They just love to have too much knowledge and hog the head fucking librarian position.

The letter will go into a new book, tucked in Prince Robert’s section, under the “mysteries of his time” section, and the recording will will be saved, again, according to Ezran’s stupid fucking system.

Whatever.

There will likely be more to read on Edward, especially due to the familiarity in the letter, I can only hope it’s more like this, and not anything I’ll have to hide from the entire fucking kingdom. I don’t want to do another one of those. Too much paperwork that’ll never see the light of day.

Signing off.

#em writes #em writes stuff #my writing #whump #whumpcember #whumpcember2023 #whump fic #original characters

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fcble · 1 year

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POSTED MARCH 20, 2023

At midnight KST, Fable announced the release of their second full album, 오비이락 (烏飛梨落). The surprise announcement came in the form of a single group teaser image, aptly captioned as their second album.

The album is the group’s first release in nearly a year, and their first studio album since their 2020 heyday. The title 오비이락 is a sajaseongeo that translates as “a pear drops when a crow flies from the tree.” It describes two entirely coincidental events that raise the suspicion of an irrelevant third party being involved.

It will also be the group’s first release with only six members, following Eunsu’s departure in August 2021, and Kiyoung’s enlistment last December.

View the teaser below!

#╰ to be written in ink is to be immortal — [ news. ]#kpop oc #idol oc #fictional idol community #kpop addition #kpop fanfic

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facelessxchurch · 1 year

Photo

SP HeroForge: The Unnamed (1)

“The breakers of worlds reckon themselves mighty, but I mock them, for I am drinker of suns.”

“I am immortal. Your true death is when I forget.”

“All things that live are born already Named. I am Unnamed, yet I live. All the magic of sorcerers comes to them by their Name. I have no Name, and yet the doors of all magic are thrown open before me.”

I initially tried to stick to your ref sheet of the original Unnamed, but HeroForge’s options do not lend themselves well to that corporeal-Nazgul look. Not enough chains or billowing sleeves and the tattered robe options look bad to me. So I gave up on that and went off-script entirely with this immortal mummified pharaoh vibe, mostly of my own invention.

HeroForge doesn’t have an option for floating pieces around the head for that King of the Darklands crown, (these models have to be 3D-printable) but I got reasonably close with a ring of horns.

Guess what sword that is he’s holding?

So in the Ancient Egyptian Book of the Dead, there are a few lines that have been stuck in my head ever since I learned them. Echoing around in my mind, like I was always meant to hear them, like they were written for me. Which I guess in a way, they were. The Book of the Dead, which is also called the Book of Going Forth By Day, is actually a religious text, not some kind of spellbook of Old Kingdom necromancy or whatever it is depicted as in historically illiterate fiction.

The Ancient Egyptian religion is actually the source of True Name lore. For example, Isis, daughter of Ra, learns Ra’s True Name. She does this by poisoning him with an enchanted serpent she conjures, then tricking him into revealing his secret name to her so she can heal him. When he does so, she gains his power. Does this event remind you of anything that happened in phase 2 of Skulduggery Pleasant? I can think of one in particular.

Anyway, the lines are thus:

“I am the Great One, son of the Great One”

“I am fire, son of fire, whose head was given to him after it was cut off.”

These refer to the god Osiris, torn apart and later retrieved, stitched back together, embalmed and resurrected by his wife, or more generally the souls of the dead on their journey through the underworld to new life, who Osiris serves as a kind of exemplar for. But I found myself thinking about them again while customizing the Unnamed in HeroForge, and thought, what about a special version just for him?

“I am the Nameless, child of the Faceless.”

“I am no one, son of no one, over whom death has neither call nor claim.”

Thank you for coming to my dark magic TED talk

SP HeroForge: The Unnamed (2)

“Sorcerers become great when they own their Names. I own the ink with which those Names were written.”

Here are close-ups of his face, including some editions with sigils blazing with power carved into his skin.

I remembered that sculpt you linked before and tried to make his eyes look as much like it as I could. I also gave him the nose ring from that sculpt. Hope you appreciate

—

Ya trying a bit to hard on the quotes ngl. The only quote I like is the one based on the Book of the Dead. Tho the Unnamed describing himself as Child of the Faceless feels ooc for him. He infantilizes others by calling them ‘boy’ but not himself. Him calling himself ‘heir’ to the Faceless would seem more fitting to me.

Is he holding the Godkiller Sword?

I love that you based him off Egyptian lore. I’m pretty sure that Landy actually admitted in one interview that he based the name system on the Egyptian three names lore, yet you’re the first I saw do something with that information. So big bonus points for including that lore The only thing I don’t like is that the bandages don’t cover him completely.

(I’d imagine Mev and Nef hate it too lol no one wants to see that nasty old man skin. Imagine this scene but with the Unnamed and Mev/Nef .3.)

But HF’s limits options are to blame for that and not you. That’s why I hardly play around with HF tbh bc not being able to do what I want drives me nuts haha.

You did an absolutely fantastic job on the eyes too! 👀 They look properly otherworldly and dripping with power! I’m a bit torn on the nose ring, but it does low key remind me of the main baddie from 300 which I would say fits thematically.

#skulduggery pleasant #the Unnamed #HeroForge #submission

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riftofthestars · 10 months

Text

Order

(Trigger warnings for death, body horror, (eye) gore and nonspecific occult rituals - a TL:DR post will follow for those that do not wish to read this, in order to not spoil anything for the readers while still giving people information)

"For the record, this is self destructive," the Hunter's voice called out from the base of the stairs.

"For the record, I am aware of that" the Jailer hissed, his head turning all the way around while the rest of his body stood still. "Have you come to stop me from this attempt as well?"

"I came to help, so please don't push me away" plead the Hunter, "neither of us know what will happen if you try to summon that dying thing inside of you."

The Jailer's head snapped back so he could continue to read where he'd left off before being interrupted - blast it, he had lost the line and had to restart. As much as he wished he could simply skip through the information, he wanted to make sure there was nothing that he missed. This was of the upmost importance to get right.

"No we do not know what will happen - not while you are still here," the Jailer eventually replied, continuing to read the pages filled with occult text. "It has been done before or there would not be pages upon pages of instructions."

"Anyone can write!" the Hunter argued, desperation settling in his tone. "They might as well be made up stories or the ramblings of a man that has lost his mind. Neither have seen a being from beyond the outer worlds die, let alone interact with the Rift. You could create so much destruction and-"

"You came to stop me, not help" the Jailer interjected. "You know how much I despise lies, so next time do not pretend as if you want to do anything else." He began to pace around the dimly lit basement. "I am taking a calculated risk. Being able to skip tearing reality in order to call upon this thing should not create any discharge of energy - which would eliminate the only excuse you had to argue about your presence here being with the intent to aid me. Even if it did, I have enough people knowing about this new manor to present this as an attack of myself and move yet again. Lazarus has been sent home and there is no one present in at least half a mile."

Stepping over one of the few body bags, he began to search the literal wall of shelves for the items he would need. The Hunter was silent.

"Besides all of that, your presence alone - where is that damn chalk" he interrupted himself with a mutter "- your presence alone could influence the ritual. I have yet to learn how to adjust what is written in these books to that, but this is not an opportunity to learn." Finding both the chalk and the emergency slow burn candles, he went back in the middle of the room, waiting for the book to begin explaining the necessary steps for the ritual. "So if you do wish to help, you may do so from about half a mile away and rush in if the situation does become dire."

Without another word, the Hunter turned away and began to ascend the stairs out of the basement. The Jailer called out from downstairs when he heard the door open

"And do not place one of your 'anchors' nearby either. They may do just as much damage as your proximity to the circle."

The sound of the door shutting after the Hunter indicated that he was alone so he could focus on this. Doing it all with one hand needed his focus.

Following the instructions immortalized in ink, the Jailer began preparing the occult ritual - candles lit and light bulbs went out to only allow the light that consumes to illuminate the drawn runes. One of the body bags was wrapped in metal and dragged in the middle. With the book underneath his arm, he opened the bag to reveal a balding man with a moustache - another rune carved into the middle of the forehead after his death, barely visible between the chains that wrapped around his head.

"It looks as if you were not as clean as you proclaimed, Dave" he chuckled to himself as he stood above the body. The chains that emerged from the rune told that the soul was still entrapped within the corpse.

Flipping through the book for the requirements of blood. Nothing was mentioned about a fully intact body, nor about the requirements of a soul.

"At the very least your ghost will not be consumed by this. You got what you deserve from those dealers of yours - I have no intention in putting you through further torture." He knew he could at the very least be heard and genuinely hoped that this previous colleague of his did not retain his sense of pain

He placed the book on the wheeled tray table - and his mask next to it. Having to take his glove off by biting down on it, he placed that on the table as well.

Jailer's slim figure leaned over the corpse, his back snapping from the acute angle it'd been bent into. More chains slithered from the darkness to hold the man's head still. Once secured, the slim fingers of his claw approached the still opened eyes of the dead man.

They dug in the orbit of the skull, squishing the eyeball just enough to not pop from the pressure or tear from the sharp ends. The extra joint in his claws slowly bent, until he could feel the optical nerve at his tips - which was promptly severed; the eyeball now free.

Sharp teeth dug into the gamey, squishy eyeball much like a fork would try to impale a cheery tomato - bothersome but eventually successful as he chewed on the gory delicacy that seemed to always fill him with some manner of satisfaction and satiation as he watched the invisible chain around Dave's forehead lessen some. At least the eyes would bring this thing out.

The other eye went through the same process: being cupped by rough claws with sharp ends, having its connection to the brain cut before being chewed and swallowed. The invisible chain disappeared and the man's true last breath was released along with the soul trapped within it, left to go to whatever afterlife it would.

Rather than lick or clean the dripping blood, however, the Jailer splashed it over the chalk - the flames of the candles rose for a moment and the air became heavier with this presence that bloated the politician's chest. The being within him was already itching to get out. It would make the process easier.

Finally cleaning his claw the best he could, he put his glove back on with a mixture of wiggling of his fingers and pulling on the silk with his mouth; the extra joint in each extremity having bent into itself to hide away the pointy end and act more like normal fingers.

He would have to leave the book on the table as he continued this, fingers tracing over each word as he consumed the knowledge.

And then he began to speak as the instruction told. But it was not his voice that came out. It was the sound of stars forming, of the void collapsing, of galaxies swirling, of meat tearing, of skin breaking, of flesh dying.

Deep Speech.

The feeling from the Jailer's chest extended into his whole body, like the pressure of an internal explosion threatening to shatter the marble he was made out of into a million pieces. He held on and continued. It happened once and he survived, he knew this time it would be the same.

Forth he called this being unfitting of the term 'creature', knowing that its writhing mass would still know to crawl to whomever it called, even while forever dammed to its prison. This horrible thing, this thing that should not be - a grotesque abomination that terrorized the Jailer's thoughts for moments at a time before disappearing back as if it were not there at all - still knew to answer the voices born a mortal birth that dared speak to it.

Memories rushed in his mind, through eyes and ears and skin and mouths that were not his; memories of things experienced in ways no mortal or immortal had experienced before. The memories of this black shapeless being that could have not been created by any god in this or any other reality. Through this chaos, the last of its emotions repeated over and over, hate devolving into rage and rage into fear as it came to realize that it was dying.

Emotions the summoner knew well, but never experienced them with such intensity before. Intensity that gave him a migraine that felt as if someone was splitting his head open with an axe - he had to stop himself from instinctively reaching for his mask and put it on, grabbing onto the unstable tray that he made his way around.

As his chant continued, he pointed his half regenerated arm at the corpse, all of his attention and will attempting to focus on giving this twisted entity a direction and an order.

He had to make it listen.

He would make it listen.

By sheer luck or some semblance of sentience, this thing within the Jailer found the opening in his missing arm and darted forward. Tentacles and mouths and eyes latching themselves on the floor, dragging the him to his knees from their sheer weight alone as they devoured the soulless corpse laid for it until it was nothing.

Now on the cement, he could feel the roughness underneath him as if it were spikes piercing his legs and the cold as if he was being encased in endless ice. The candles felt as if they were burning him and his very being, blinding him with their light. The darkness from the corners enveloped every piece of him as if it was a cloak made out of the heaviest materials.

The chant continued, commanding to this thing to follow the will of its summoner

While this thing ate the Jailer gathered his strength. From within himself, he grabbed and held the invisible chains set by the Rift. Taught as they could be in this war of attrition, this war for control over the chaos, this war for order. From the unseen corners of this basement, Jailer's own chains darted out, wrapping themselves around this shapeless mass of a still living corpse, only to break and dissolve in its blackness.

Over and over, they darted out and broke and disappeared. Over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again.

The Jailer would not stop until he would have control.

"Le aer nehel nae kar e Le kerradun"

Finally spoken within the now hoarse, exhausted and desperate voice of the Jailer, these words would subdue this entity. Yet it would still not be let go, wrapped in chains until its constant movement would submit to his will.

Breathless, senses crashed from the overload of perspectives and mind blank with the fullness of the still processing memories, the politician laid there on the ground.

Through half opened eyes, barely being able to make out shapes between blurry colours, the Jailer stared at his temporary arm: tentacles held together in chains growing from where his elbow would be, spasming out unevenly as if multiple hearts were beating at different times.

It would do for now, even if he had to hide it. This would make him less vulnerable and be his gateway towards using the powers of this eldritch being he managed to command.

But for now, this was enough.

For now, he was too tired to do anything.

#the jailer is the key: ic #the rift hunter rides: ic #Library of Eternity: Writing Work #body horror tw #tw body horror #long post #gore tw #tw gore #death tw #tw death #tw eye gore #eye gore tw

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abookishdreamer · 10 months

Text

Character Intro: Koros (Kingdom of Ichor)

Nicknames- The Raging Rebel by Zeus

Shockwave by his bandmates

Ko by his family

Age- 33 (immortal)

Location- Mania district, New Olympus

Personality- Brash, impulsive, & aggressive, he's punk rock incarnate. He's unashamedly outspoken and opinionated though these traits can be seen as confrontational & destructive to others. Also a non-conformist, he's definitely against the establishment. He doesn't define himself to be in a relationship.

He has the standard abilities of a god except shapeshifting. as the god of surfeit & disdain his other powers/abilities include shockwave generation, being able to telekinetically make things overfill/overflow, inducing feelings of angst & unworthiness in others, anatomy destruction, limited pyrokinesis, and partial fire/heat immunity.

When he's not out on tour performing, Koros' abode is his loft apartment in the Mania neighborhood of New Olympus. He also spends time at his sister's & dad's in the state of Sparta. The walls of the loft (and ceiling) are covered in various grafitti art. Instead of traditional lighting, there's neon fixtures with lots of leather, metal, and glass furniture. Koros loves the feel of the neighborhood, especially the growing punk subculture community with beings of many creeds. The beliefs of the punk ethos include non-conformity, anti-authoritarianism, anti-corporation, anti-consumerist, anti-corporate greed, direct action, & "not selling out."

He's known for his can't-look-away physical appearance- his tall lanky frame, alabaster skin, sharp features, his reddish amber eyes, spiky dark red hair, several tattoos, and body modification piercings (including a split tongue and pierced "member"). Koros will also wear make-up & nail polish (primarily black eyeliner, smoky, & glitter black eyeshadow). Many of his tattoos were done at the Blood & Ink tattoo studio, but he's also traveled to the Underworld where he got tattoos done by Achlys (goddess of the death mist, poison, misery, & sadness).

A go-to drink for him is beer. He also likes vodka, rum & cokes, red hot shots (made with cinnamon schnapps, tequila, and a few dashes of hot sauce), bloody marys, snake bites, dirty martinis, molotovs, and jägerbombs. He also likes OmegaDash energy drinks!

Koros' immediate family includes his father Kydoimos (god of uproar & battlefield confusion) and his older sister Dyssebeia (Bess) (goddess of ungodliness & impiety). As chaotic and dysfunctional they are, there's also love & respect amongst them. Earlier on when Koros was trying to establish his music career, his father paid for some of the music videos. Bess even provided background vocals to a few songs as well. A common bonding experience for the three of them is when they ride their dragons together!

He partakes in weed and lotus dust. Some of the band's most popular songs were written & performed under the influence.

Koros doesn't agree with the hierarchy that exists within the pantheon, especially when it comes to temples and offerings. Even though he's not a "supporter," he's glad that MGM movement (started/founded by the goddess Pasithea) is "shitting things up" in the pantheon.

Even though he's not an official spokeman, he can't help singing the praises of Plutopack cigarettes.

A well known guilty pleasure of his are Imperial lobster tails & crab legs! He once spent nearly 3,000 drachmas at The Crown (a high end restuarant)- his table covered with the steamy goodness drowned in an overabundance of garlic butter.

It's said that he's known for his voracious appetite, compared to the likes of Adephagia (goddess of gluttony).

His favorite thing from The Bread Box is the roast beef sandwich (on sourdough bread) added with chilies, black olives, extra sriracha mayo, & jalapeños.

Koros has a band called Dissonance Machine (where he sings lead & plays the electric guitar) with some of his close friends. The other members are a harpy named Lyseanor (co-lead singer & bass), a siren named Sevyn (co-lead singer & bass), and a cyclops named Osiris (background vocals & drums). They've been friends for quite sometime with Koros even being the nonós to Sevyn's daughter.

Dissonance Machine is probaly the most well known punk rock band in the main realm (with growing recognition in the Underwater realm). Their music have been described as "the demonic love child of punk rock and deathcore", their songs dealing with such topics like mental illness, existential dread, certain sociopolitical issues, & anti-sentimental depictions of relationships. The band is independent, so a lot of their marketing & promotions have come from their own pockets. Koros doesn't like when the media paints the picture that he's the source of the band's success. All the members have played an important role to Dissonance Machine. Their first album F*CK Your Temple was defintiely the most divisive (the album art not helping matters- which shows the bandmates urinating on the steps of a temple that has the likeness of one of the King's temples). Deities like Eusebeia (goddess of piety, loyalty, duty, & filial respect), Aeschyne (goddess of modesty & honor), and The Litae spoke out against it in interviews with there even being protests in downtown, the Hearthwood neighborhood, & the state of Athens. Koros acknowledged and appreciated the goddess Athena's stance- that even though she didn't agree with his views, she fully supported his right to free speech and artistic expression.

After that whole debacle, the band continued to release music- EPs like Lascivious Holiday, ETHOS, & Sweet Like Acid (the latter recieving a few glowing reviews from music critics). Their well known & infamous songs include "A Blob from Tartarus", "Just a Cutter", "Grenadefall", "Swallow a Pill", "Kronos Daddy", "C*nts of Sparta", and "Gods Save the King." Recently, they've been getting a bit more attention because of their part in a featured track with the band Blood in the Water (a song called "Charybdis Chokehold") & the release of their second full length album Olympius Has Fallen. The release of the official album art almost crashed the Fatestagram website! On one hand it was the most laidback artwork out of their catalogue, but that didn't make it any less controversial. It's basically a black background with the country's flag burning in flames. Koros thought it was "funny as balls" to see Zeus' reaction- a very long discernment posted on his page (which contained several angry face emojis).

A favorite frozen treat of his is rocky road ice cream!

The band's most notable song "Slithersoul" is a bonus track on the second album that was released as a promotional single. Their interview on the Morning Tea podcast made the message clear- released some time after "The Incident," the song was about Medusa. The song was a complete departure from the band's usual sound. with accompanying guitar, bass, & violin, "Slithersoul" is a piano power ballad. The song was generally critically acclaimed (much to Athena's embarassment). Koros' voice was also praised (along with his surprising register & falsetto). At the most recent Golden Laurel Awards, the song was nominated for four awards including "Song of the Year." Koros and the rest of the band decided to protest the awards show They still attended, but refused to perform, angering Apollo something fierce! Dissonance Machine miraculously walked away with the "Song of the Year" Award where Koros used part of the band's acceptance speech to speak out against Zeus' punishment against the Titan god Prometheus.

His main mode of transportation is Koros' close animal companion, a she-dragon named Jubilee. She's widely known as "The Scarlet Queen." Her horns (resembles a crown) & claws are as bright as copper and she has vibrant scarlet scales with pink membranes on her wings. Their energies are so intertwined, Koros was able to develop a telepathic link with his dragon, a feat achieved by only a few experienced dragonriders. Jubilee's roar has been credited as background vocals to a few songs and she plays an interactive role during the band's performances. A lot of the time, the show always end with Jubilee setting the stage on fire!

In the pantheon Koros is friends with Keres (goddess of violent death), Atë (goddess of mischief, ruin, blind folly, delusion, & downfall of heroes), Epimetheus (Titan god of afterthought), Alastor (god of blood feuds & vengeance), Kakia (goddess of vice & moral wrongdoing), Menoetius (Titan god of rage, violence, & rash actions), Homadus (god of the battle-din), Aplistos (god of avarice), Momus (god of mockery, satire, & ridicule), Palioxis (goddess of backrush & retreat), Apate (goddess of fraud & deception), and Pan (god of the wild, satyrs, shepherds, & rustic music).

He and Momus both hooked up with a maenad in the bathroom of The Void nightclub!

Koros (as well as the band) have been frequent guests on The Agnostic Network.

As far as his love life, Koros isn't exactly looking for anything traditional or conventional. His last serious relationship happened way during the infancy of the band's start. It was with a harpy named Maeriene. They were together for almost ten years before she ended things due to his indifference when the topic of marriage was brought up. She used to design a lot of the band's posters. Koros has his fair share of flings with fans & groupies (the wildest ones being maenads!) and he's even had a casual relationship with Sardo (one of The Nesoi). He's currently seeing Felis (Titaness of cats). Koros counts everything with her as "uncharted territory". They'll often see each other at night- at Koros' place or a seedy motel like the Nocturnal Inn. He doesn't mind the "battle scars" he recieved from Felis when she'd get "too excited" during their "interactions" & there have been more than a few times when one of them got vulnerable after their interactions and they've cuddled for hours comforting each other. Koros has picked up on the fact that Felis never wants to dine out with him, instead opting for ordering in.

Dissonance Machine was on the cover of Diaireménoi Stekómaste, their only wardrobe being fake blood.

He's walked at NOFW (New Olympus Fashion Week) in the Velóna & Ankáthi fashion show, the punk fashion brand (where he's also good friends with the designers, twin harpy sisters named Zelaria & Avinore).

Koros has quite the colorful rap sheet. He has been arrested several times for disorderly conduct, public intoxication, damage to property (especially after his dragon torched the wild cat section of the New Olympus Zoo, eating all the animals), indecent exposure (when he was caught drunkenly urinating on the front steps of The Parthenon), and battery (when he punched a paparazzi out cold while wearing Stygian Iron brass knuckles).

In his free time when he's not peforming, Koros is constantly working on new music. He and his bandmates also hang out on their down time. He also enjoys archery, hunting, visiting the shooting range, playing video games, poker, riding dragonback, freefall cliff diving, mountain climbing, getting a new piercing or tattoo, and hanging out with his friends & family.

His all time favorite food is his dad's kokkinisto.

"To question anything and everything to me, is punk rock."

#my oc #oc character #my character #my oc character #oc intro #character intro #oc introduction #character introduction #modern greek gods #modern greek mythology #greek myth retellings #greek gods #greek mythology #greek pantheon

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