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wizardofgoodfortune · 1 year

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Ooh, 42 for the Spotify Wrapped fic? :D

i have been unspeakably excited about this one, just because the song is so tooth-rottingly sweet!!! so here, have vignettes of a happy dreamling's life. i wanted to write more but i'm so sleepy and i'm afraid it's getting way too long as it is.

"Dream," came Hob's voice, deep and drowsy with sleep, "I can feel you, you know."

Dream didn't have much to do when Hob went to sleep. But Hob complained every time Dream tried to get out of bed to do something else, saying it was much easier to sleep with him around. So Dream stayed. And it's not as if he didn't want to stay beside him either.

Most times, Dream let his physical form stay in the Waking, while he took care of business in the Dreaming from within. Sometimes, if time allowed, he visited Hob in his dreams.

But rarely, when there was no business in the Dreaming, and when he could leave Hob alone in it, Dream allowed himself the pleasure of mapping out his lover's face.

He would trace over every curve and every line: from his aquiline nose, to his crow's feet, from his M-shaped hairline, to the silver strands at his temples, from his cupid's bow, to his cleft chin. Dream's favorite time to do this was dawn, when he could watch the sunlight cast dancing shadows on Hob's face, as if they were celebrating him, too.

Usually, he was careful to keep his touch light so as not to wake Hob, but he must have gotten carried away this time.

"My apologies, my love," said Dream, letting his wandering hand settle on the sheets. "I have awoken you. I can put you back to sleep, if you wish."

Hob opened his eyes. There were crusts of dream sand in them. "That's quite alright, darling," he said, yawning and stretching.

As much as Dream liked watching him sleep, he was a wonder to watch awake, as well. Hob would usually stretch until every bone in his body popped and every muscle woke up. Then he would go to the bathroom for a few minutes, then go to fix the both of them some breakfast. He would usually ask what Dream has been up to, or telling Dream about his upcoming day.

But not today, it seemed like.

"What were you doing, anyway?" Hob asked, rubbing the sand out of his eyes. "Counting my white hair or something?"

"Perhaps," Dream said. He knew exactly how many there were. And it was interesting to think how they would be frozen at that number until Hob chose otherwise.

"That was meant to be a joke," Hob said, now fully awake. He was smiling at Dream.

Dream doesn't think he could ever grow tired of seeing Hob smile.

"Alright then, prove it," Hob reached over and tapped Dream quickly on the nose, "how many white hairs do I have?"

"Two thousand, eight hundred and sixty-one," Dream said.

Hob started chuckling, which grew into a full-bodied laugh. It shook the bed beneath them. Dream was certain they could hear him downstairs in the New Inn.

"Are you quite done?" asked Dream, who, to his own surprise, felt a bit embarrassed.

Hob wiped a tear from his eye. "Oh, my love, darling, sweetheart," he said, a bit breathless, holding the side of Dream's face, "I am so lucky to have you."

Then Hob kissed him, washing away any shame, and something inside Dream swelled full, threatening to burst.

No, Dream thought, as he reveled in Hob's freely-given and abundant love, I am the one fortunate to have you.

"Can you not have this delivered to your home?" Dream asked.

They were at the supermarket, restocking on food and various items that Hob apparently needed.

"Yes, but I like seeing the produce myself. Can never trust them for that," muttered Hob, who was in the middle of picking between two packs of tomatoes that looked entirely similar to Dream.

"I would rather we spent our time wiser," Dream said, putting his hand on Hob's back, trailing it down, "on more important, more pleasurable things."

"Dream," Hob yelped. "Careful, love, we don't know which old lady we'll scar this time."

So Dream put his hand on the small of Hob's back instead, and tried to not look too disappointed.

Hob kissed him on the forehead. "We have all the time in the world. And you could always help me pick out the vegetables. Can't you see which has tiny worms in them or something?"

Dream rolled his eyes. "This is beneath my office."

Hob chuckled. "Look at it like this: if you help me, we'll get home faster. If we can get home faster, we can get to bed faster, and I'll do that thing you like with the tongue—"

Dream pointed at the pack in Hob's right hand. "That one is the one you want."

Hob laughed, and tossed the chosen pack of tomatoes into the cart.

"You really couldn't have waited until we got home," Hob said. It was meant to be a question, Dream guessed.

"No," answered Dream.

They were in Hob's car, in the parking lot of the supermarket. While they were putting away the groceries in the backseat, Dream had pushed Hob down, slammed the door behind them, and straddled him. Some of the items had fallen out of their paper bags and onto the car floor.

"Can we at least turn on the car?" Hob asked, his hands settling on Dream's thighs. They felt like hot, hot fire. "It's freezing in here."

Dream smirked down at him. "Not for much longer."

A short laugh came out of Hob, as if he couldn't believe what was happening. "Thank god I got those windows tinted, eh?"

Dream allowed himself a moment to look upon his lover, cheeks flushed, breaths shallow, heart galloping. The yellow fluorescent lights from outside cast soft shadows on his face, and put a warm glint in his eyes.

"Well, Dream?" Hob asked. "You got me. Now what'll you do with me?"

"I thought I was the impatient one," Dream said, smiling into Hob's lips.

"I did not know you played any instruments, Hob Gadling," Dream said.

Hob jumped from his couch, clutching the guitar in his arms. "Christ on a fucking stick," he exclaimed, a hand on his chest.

Dream stepped around the couch and into Hob's view. He couldn't help but surprise Hob; it was entertaining to see which expletive he would come up with each time.

After a breath or two, Hob sat back down, gesturing to the seat beside him. "Darling, I think you're enjoying this a bit too much."

Dream sat beside Hob, putting a hand on his back. "My apologies," he said.

"Yeah, you say that, but you're still smiling," Hob said, giving him a suspicious look.

Dream couldn't help but chuckle. He leaned forward and kissed his lover on the cheek. "I could not resist. Forgive me. Now please," he gestured to the guitar. "I would enjoy listening to you play."

"Changing the subject. You're fond of that, aren't you?" There was no ounce of venom in his voice. Instead, Hob wore a smile, like he was enjoying this, too. "King of Dreams, Ruler of Nightmares, Lord of the Dreaming, would enjoy listening to me play? Are you sure you wouldn't rather scare me to death again?"

"Do not be foolish. You cannot die," Dream said.

"Just like you can't be mature," Hob said. "Remind me, love, how old are you again?"

Dream glared at him. But he suspected its intentions might be curtailed by the smile he couldn't keep off his face.

"Hang on, let me get something," Hob said, rushing off the bed.

Dream propped himself up by his elbows, curious as to what was more important than kissing a very needy, very horny Dream. They haven't seen each other for what must have been more than a month now, what with all the pressing concerns in the Dreaming and Hob's increasing workload in the university.

"Hob," Dream called, not without a tone of threat.

"Be a second, darling," Hob called back. Surely enough, he was back within a few seconds, now with a guitar in his hands.

Hob sat on the edge of the bed, propping up the guitar on his lap. Dream crawled beside him, his interest in Hob's new hobby overpowering his sexual need.

"Been practicing for this," Hob said under his breath. His brows were furrowed in concentration as his fingers formed the proper chords.

"For what?" Dream asked.

Hob smiled at him. "Our anniversary, dearest."

Oh. The constant reminders, the movie Hob let him pick out, the candlelit dinner, the flowers...

And now this.

Hob cleared his throat. He was going to sing. While he played the guitar. For him.

Dream would remember this until the end of time, would remember how the strings bent to Hob's will as he moved from chord to chord, would remember Hob's voice rough and hoarse from countless lectures. Something inside him ached at the memory of his son with his lyre and his voice, and something inside him burst at the sight of Hob with his guitar and his voice.

"Oh, don't cry darling," Hob said, stopping mid-song, thumb wiping away a tear on Dream's cheek.

"I am not," Dream said, as he felt a familiar stinging in his eyes. There was a lump in his throat.

"Oh, sweeting." Hob set aside his guitar, and pulled Dream into his arms. "I didn't mean to make you cry. I thought you would like it."

"I did. I do," said Dream. Against his will, he felt a few more of his tears escape onto Hob's bare shoulder. He tried to concentrate on Hob's heartbeat, on the warmth of Hob's hand on his back, going round and round. "I apologize. I did not mean to ruin your performance, our anniversary."

"No, love. I can do that another time. And as for the anniversary, it isn't ruined at all. Don't be sorry," Hob said. "What matters most is you."

Dream buried his face in Hob's chest. This was foolish. He felt like a child again, crying for an absent father, an unloving mother. Except he wasn't a child, and he was crying for his dead son.

"You know," Hob started, providing Dream a welcome distraction from his thoughts, "Robyn was afraid of thunder and lightning. He would come running from his room into mine and Eleanor's and climb onto our bed. And I would hold him just like this, until he fell asleep. I... I miss him a lot. I still think of him. I carry him with me everyday."

After a quiet while, Dream said, "Thank you." He wasn't sure what it was for. Maybe it was for everything, from their first meeting as strangers centuries ago until now, as lovers. It might as well be.

"You're most welcome, my heart. Anytime."

Is it time? Dream had felt something inside him exploding like a dying star for the longest time. He had been pondering this for what seemed like an eternity, but it seemed like now was a good time as any other.

Dream held a velvet box in his hand that he had procured from a jeweler's dream, a few minutes before Hob woke. He had been keeping an eye on this one for a couple of years now.

"Hob Gadling," he started. "I have been careful in letting you set the pace. In the past, I have been... too eager with my lovers. Too insistent. You know not the strength I have had to muster to keep myself from asking this question."

"Dream," Hob breathed. For a moment, Dream was afraid Hob would ask him to stop, but it seemed like there was nothing but adoration in his lover's eyes.

"You said once that you were lucky to have me," Dream recalled. "However, I think it is I who is fortunate to have you, to be loved by you, to be cherished by you. With all my shortcomings, my temper, my childishness, I do not think it was easy. And so, if you would bestow upon me the honor, would you be my husband, for all eternity, with all that would entail?"

"Oh, Dream," Hob said, laughing a wet laugh. Tears were welling up in his eyes. They glittered like jewels in the dawn light; they put the ring in his box to shame. Then, Hob nodded, wordless. He held out his hand to Dream.

As he slipped the ring—ruby, gold, and a perfect fit—on Hob's finger, Dream felt close to tears, as well.

"'Til Death do us part," Hob said, kissing the corner of Dream's mouth.

Dream smiled. "You will be glad to know that she wishes to be my maid of honor."

#thank you for waiting ash!!! <3 much love for sending in the ask #i FUkcing love. sickeningly sweet dreamling. i love them. GODDD. wish i could write them forever. no suffering. just love.#dreamling #sandman #*my fic #*#an-asuryampasya #'perhaps.' makes a comeback #and with that all the asks are gone... feel free to send more!#idk i might turn this into a more complete fic Someday(tm)#or i might just fuck around. idk! ~anything can happen~#edit: THE PERILS OF PUBLISHING WHEN UR SLEEPY YOU FORGET A LOT OF THINGS. LIKE PUTTING DREAM'S DIALOGUE IN BOLDFACE. god what other things.

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shiny-jr · 7 months

Text

outlander

Warning: Yandere. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar, Azul Ashengrotto, Kalim Al-Asim, Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia.

Summary: In every land you travel to, there's a god with elemental powers. But why is it that in every nation you arrive to, the gods attempt to make you stay?

Note: Why has no one done a genshin x twst thing? This is more of a concept idea than anything else. I might do a series with it, or not, or just random posts. Feel free to ask about it or request stuff for it.

This must be a dream, either that or a never-ending nightmare.

Waking up alone on a sandy beach, as if washed ashore, was disorientating. There was nothing else on the shore save for shells and the occasional crab, no debris indicating a wreck and no scattered belongings. All you had on you were the clothes on your back, which were a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt, your pajamas.

In the center of your palms, was a marking you had never seen before, like a freshly painted tattoo in the shape of a tiny key. As curious as the strange new markings were and you wondered how they even got there, there was a larger question looming:

How did you get here?

GRIM

There was a cat on the beach. At least, it looked like a cat. A talking feline, with gray fur and the most impossible feature of blue fire lightly simmering in his ears.

It spoke, just like a human, with a grating high-pitched voice. It was a devilish little beast, with little fangs sharper than his comebacks that he supposed were funny.

The feline pridefully announced his name: Grim.

And when you told Grim your story of how you woke up by the water's edge with no recollection of how you got here and little to your name, the creature didn't appear to care. However, when he spoke of elements being used by people and names of nations and cruel living gods you never once heard of, only then was he very vaguely intrigued. Perhaps it was amusement, as he laughed and called you stupid for not even knowing of The Seven.

That's when you heard a growl, not from behind his fangs but from his stomach. If you looked at him from the right angle, he looked quite scrawny. The poor thing was hungry, you realized.

All it took was an offering of cans of tuna found in an empty cabin nearby, and you had him in your grasp. Following you around was only temporary, he insisted, he'd go along so long as there was food. While a talking cat was not the most conventional of guides, it was better than nothing, especially since he knew basic knowledge of each nation and where the nearest sign of civilization was located.

HEARTSLABYUL

Through the winding dark woods where mysterious creatures lurked in hollow trees and dead end paths, were meadows of flowers and peaceful grooves. However, don't let the tranquillity of nature fool you. In the distance were mountains– not actually mountains, but volcanoes and hot sprints along this land's border.

It's been said that the very millions of roses and other greenery in this land, was formed when ash rained down on dry barren earth for nearly a month. Ash from those very dormant volcanoes that were the backdrop to this perfect scenery, which came in huge black clouds thousands of years ago and blanketed the earth.

A god, an archon, the deity of law that rained hell on earth over thousands of years ago.

Long ago this land was a country of criminals ruled by a god of chaos that reveled in havoc and disorder. Among the mayhem, was a small deity of fire with mighty powers and a vision for a future he was determined to see. Riddle, is what the deity was called.

Riddle gained a number of followers to listen to his words, and he created order. A small feat compared to the many wicked still running about in a lawless land ruled by a god that valued anarchy. So, using newfound strength, the deity of fire drew forth molten lava from the mouths of the northern volcanos, burning all those in its path while the deadly plumes of smoke and ash suffocated those that remained. Atop the remains of the destroyed towns and cities, he built a new nation of order for his loyal followers.

Today, it is a thriving nation filled with flowers and greenery. However, there is one issue. The god of pyro, Riddle, is a tyrant. Every law is expected to be followed without question and without fail, beheadings have become nearly a daily occurrence with the criminals often being charged with mistakingly picking flowers on Wednesdays, drinking the wrong sort of tea post-meals, or playing croquet after five pm.

You were fortunate to be spared after your audience with the god of law, for breaking the rule: one must never bring a cat to a formal affair. Before he could burn you were you stood, you interjected, answering that your companion was no cat, so you had broken no rule.

Well, he promptly apologized for the misunderstanding and in turn, offered to make up for it by inviting you to a tea party. It would be best to except his invitation, afterall, he was the same deity that buried nearly an entire country in lava and ash, then built his kingdom atop their remains. He was a tyrant that beheaded and burned people on the daily. It was wise not to get on his bad side. Besides, he appears to have taken a fancy for you. Riddle implores that you tell him more of your world while you ignore the whispers of rebellion.

There is no leaving Heartslabyul, not without the explicit permission from the god of law. The borders with their volcanoes burn any would-be invaders, allowing passage only to merchants and travelers who have received the pyro deity's blessing. Why would Riddle ever give you his blessing to see you go?

SAVANACLAW

Across the volcanoes and hot springs of the borders, the mountains turn green with dense jungles. Across the river lies the savanna where the world's most wondrous creatures run free. Times have been turbulent, the shaking ground was evidence of troubles with this nation's divine beings, or rather, now single divine being.

Earthquakes have always been a sign of something occurring either for a purpose or unintentionally by someone else. The harsher the quake, the greater the importance of the event. And not too long ago, a ginormous tremor shook the entire globe. Something of major importance had happened.

A god, an archon, the deity of intellect was the new sovereign after tragedy befell his elder brother.

In the past the land was under the protection of the god of strength, a mighty god worshipped by his people. This god had a young heir who was also beloved by the people. However, most forgot or completely disliked the younger brother of the god of strength, a deity of ground, Leona, who had a burning hated for his brother.

Leona amassed followers of his own in secret. It came as no surprise that the common and the wealthy adored the exalted god of strength. However, the poor detested him, because he offered no help to them, no matter how much they prayed and offered what little they had to his alter. Instead, their prayers for mercy and for a change in luck, were answered by the deity of ground. The change of luck came from the death of the former god and his son, paving the way for a new sovereign.

Today, there is uncertainty in the street. Many of the former worshippers of the god of strength believe in one thing. The god of geo, Leona, is unfit to rule. The poor and mistreated have emerged from hiding places in the shadows, filled with newfound confidence for their was finally a god that answered their prayers. However, there remains a growing tension between both factions. Followers of the new god sing his praises, while followers who mourn for his brother believe that everything is falling into disarray.

You were promptly introduced to the god of intellect by his followers that wished to spread the good word. There was something wrong, you and your companion both agreed. How could a powerful god of strength and his young heir just perish without warning? Something was amiss.

This was just a new follower, at least in his eyes. So he brushed you off, allowing you to partake in the best food and drink only his followers had the privilege of receiving. Testing your luck, you decided you would ask him if he knew of a way home. For now you filled him in, explaining your origins and recent adventures. For such a conniving and arrogant leader, he was surprisingly lax. It even appeared as if he wasn't even listening to your words, just dozing off on some pillows. Your words were at least more interesting to him than the rumors of possible unrest.

Perhaps he does know a way for you to return home, but he doesn't want to tell you. It's as simple as that. He likes the new follower, you. Besides, you're not going. There is always the option of traveling further, but why do so when the geo deity has what you need? Leona greatly loathes betrayal from his own worshippers, so you wouldn't leave Savanaclaw to see another god, would you?

OCTAVINELLE

In the seas dwell creatures of unimaginable horrors living deep within the watery depths, across the ocean over turbulent waves there are islands of paradise. The chain of islands composed warm southern beaches and cold northern snowlands. This may be paradise, but a toll must be paid to even get near the islands.

A tax is applied to all arriving merchants wishing to trade and tourists wishing to step foot on the island. It doesn't make much sense, until you see their towns and cities bursting with trade. Business was booming, apparently. The water is clear and pristine, you could see the vibrant coral reefs and schools of fish swimming below.

A god, an archon, the deity of contracts once came from these very waters when there was no land.

Thousands of years ago there was nothing but ocean out this far away from the mainland. That is, until a deity of water appeared from the depths. He promised a new nation to traveling merchants, so long as they worshipped him. The deity introduced himself as Azul.

Azul had grown bored of the dull happenings under the sea, for he had achieved most things beneath the waves. The ocean could not satisfy his endless greed. He had his sights set on higher elevation, with the lofty goal of being just as powerful on land as he was in the ocean. He moved waves, creating tsunamis outward but revealing islands once hidden by water. The merchants took to land and fulfilled their end of the deal, worshipping him while creating a prosperous nation of deals.

In present day, hardly anyplace can compare to the thriving hub the nation has become. However, loyal followers have begun to see his greed. The god of hydro, Azul, is a charlatan. The ocean in all its vastness was not enough to satisfy his desires, it was why he took to land. For the promise of fulfilling prayers, something always must be given in turn or the worshippers must risk going on a quest. But, it is not always as it seems. One way or another, a prayer asking for something will end in the worshipper becoming in debt to him.

In exchange for an answer to the continued question of how to return home, you have nothing to offer for payment except for ideas. Home was modern, this world was not yet on par with the technology you knew. So you offer ideas of inventions, a device to capture an image in time, a mechanism like a box with wheels, a tool to contact someone miles away.

He believes you're quite bright, you think it false flattery to deceive you but you would be wrong. Your ideas are truly brilliant, and will no doubt earn him more millions and influence in other nations on the mainland! Best to take the compliment with a smile, or else this swindler may find a way to trap you in debt. Azul insists you tell him more of your home and your lucrative ideas. Here, a contract, where he shall sell your ideas as goods and you shall reap the rewards! Whatever hearsay you've heard painting him in a bad light, is defamation! Don't fall for it so easily.

Sailing away from Octavinelle would just be a fool's quest. Unless you can escape on a boat that can weather the harshest of sea storms, there is no stepping foot off the island without the risk of drowning. Don't you have more profitable ideas to share with the hydro deity? If not, just listening to your voice would make Azul content than all the gold in the world could.

SCARABIA

Rolling sand dunes stretch as far as the eye could see, and rocky canyons border a savanna. Sandstorms fill the skies like a dark cloud, covering the dry hot land in a new layer of sand once again. Struggle through the scorching days and blistering cold nights, and there will be an oasis in the center between large flowing rivers.

Life follows the flowing waters, and an enormous oasis is planted in the center of the desert. For miles and miles along the banks, are blooming cities and towns. A great contrast to the desert outside, these settlements are overflowing with water, with the greenest gardens and greatest crops.

A god, an archon, the deity of commerce that gave life to a once barren land.

Thousands of years ago, a terrible famine struck the land. All remaining oasis had shriveled up, leading to starvation. A kind-hearted deity of earth took pity on the people. So he decided to extend a helping hand. People would call the deity Kalim.

Kalim used his abilities to create a lush environment, a vast and incredibly rich oasis out of sand in the middle of the desert. When he walked, grass and flowers sprouted from the sand. In days, he managed to create a garden of tremendous size and design, where his new followers could live in peace and luxury by the rivers. Towns and cities were developed, giving way to a grand nation where he resided in comfort and extravagance, surrounded by people that adored him.

Now there is a grand metropolis where there is just as much gold in the markets as there are flowers. The god of dendro, Kalim, is naive. For thousands of years he has been sheltered and treasured by his people. He is oblivious and clumsy, but at the same time he is not foolish. He knows of the people that have attempted to use his abilities for sinister purposes. Although, no one could guess a conniving being plotting against him, resides in his very own palace.

Exciting adventures and thrilling tales, the god of commerce loves to hear your stories of the outside world! First time foreigners are welcomed with open arms, but you are treated as a rare guest with your unique origin. This might just be the most peaceful land you had ever traveled to.

Come, partake in the celebrations! It's easy to forget that such a laidback and cheerful personality belongs to that of a deity that gave life to this region of the desert. Dance, chat, he wishes to do it all with you! The brightness of the fireworks and lively atmosphere is nearly enough to drown out the presence in the shadows you see from the corner of your eyes. A figure with a piercing gaze, watching the jolly divine being with envy in their eyes. With a power as tempting as his, there would be those wishing to snatch it. Kalim distracts you, offering more food and drink with a smile sweeter than any flower.

Why would anyone ever wish to leave this garden that was Scarabia? The outside, the desert and canyons, were harsh and unforgiving. The god of commerce did not wish to see you risk traveling and getting hurt. The dendro deity invites you to stay in the city! Surely you could be happy here with Kalim, right?

POMEFIORE

On elevated lands, between mountains and hills, were endless forests in which travelers often vanished in or were discovered frozen. A winter wonderland, although this wasn't so delightful. It was beautiful, but a deadly kind of beautiful, where you risked being chased by mysterious beasts or becoming lost in blizzards.

The snow may be pure, it may look picturesque upon frozen lakes and lines of white trees, but looks are deceiving. This was once a serene land with a temperate climate, but it has only gotten colder and colder in more recent months until there was not a single spot of green to be seen.

A god, an archon, the deity of curses who was so bitter like the cold that he caused snow to fall all year round.

Stories have told that the land was once warm in springs and summers, only growing cold whenever the divine being was cross. They were frighteningly beautiful and terrifyingly powerful, regal as royalty but at times wrathful. Vil, is what the deity was referred to.

Vil became envious of an emerging figure, so he invoked powerful blizzards and storms. In recent generations, there have been a growing number of his people breaking off into a separate faction that worshipped a younger compassionate god of healing. Enraged by the betrayal of some followers and resentful with biting jealously, many knew that it was only a matter of time before he would snap. This frightening divine being would not accept being dethroned, he would not allow himself to be demoted in the people's hearts.

Civilization continued to thrive, even despite the never-ending snow. And yet, people cannot help but worry what may happen if the cold doesn't let up by spring. The god of cryo, Vil, was pretentious. Anyone who openly voices their distaste for him or a preference for the god of healing, can expect to be encased in ice and used as a display. No one dares to even utter the name of his rival, for fear of incurring his wrath.

Misfortune brought you before the god of curses' throne. Mistakingly his followers had believed you to be worshippers of the god of healing, which you insisted not to know of. You had simply been lost. Maybe it was your gawking at his ethereal appearance, or the compliment you murmured under your breath, but you were not frozen a punishment.

He decided to interrogate you himself, and through his stern questioning you found yourself a nervous mess as you answered honestly but blabbered far too much. Maybe this deity was amused, much like a king would find humor in a pathetic little jester. The divinity that froze nonbelievers into statues for his palace, found you quite endearing. Vil even once smiled at you when you spoke of inconsequential things, warming his heart to which the clouds carrying snow broke apart if for a moment, causing his followers to go into a frenzy fueled by hope.

When leaving Pomefiore is so much as even mentioned, all exits will be frozen shut by the god of curses. Why even venture outside the palace, when you have earned the favor of the cryo deity? Perhaps the land is warmer, but the neighboring nation is dangerous and he forbids the journey. Why would anyone leave after finally melting Vil's icy cold heart?

IGNIHYDE

A forest of dead trees serves as an ominous welcome, or perhaps it was an omen warning incoming travelers. Slopes gave way to valleys, and along the coasts was a heavy mist that painted the vision gray. Homes and buildings, magnificent temples and crumbling feats of architecture, appeared to be floating in white clouds, but in reality they were situated on cliffsides thick with fog.

In the center of the dying forest, there are ruins of a grand temple once belonging to a god that met a tragic end. However, its remnants are closely guarded by mysterious creatures of air that cannot be touched. Legends say the temple was once a place of worship for a fledgling god related to the main god the nation worships today.

A god, an archon, the deity of innovation that has never once shown his face to the public.

Thousands of years ago, a pair of divine beings appeared. They went largely unnoticed for many years, until their brilliant inventions brought awe to those around them, attracting worshippers and diminishing the power of other local gods. The one remaining brother from this pair, is a deity known as Idia.

Idia created wondrous inventions, unintentionally forming a nation of inventors in the process. Withdrawn, dark, and silent, he is quite the unconventional god and yet he begrudgingly rules nonetheless. As reserved as he may be, he is feared among divinity. All lesser gods aiming for his spot are quickly wiped out by his inventions, without him so much as lifting a finger and using his own abilities. They're reduced to mere memories, as nothing is left of them. In times of old, it was once believed that he was a harbinger of death.

On decent days, the sun may shine on the coast, but most days there are heavy clouds and fog. The god of anemo, Idia, is an enigma. Most think him a ghost, for never appearing and for his abilities. The highest families, the most brilliant inventors, even other divine beings may request an audience, but he will never show. No one has ever seen him, all that's known is he is a figure shrouded in black robes like a grim reaper. There are others who believe there are double, because two figures have been spotted once.

You become the first to see his face purely by accident. It seemed he was just as startled of you, as you were of him. Thankfully, you were not going to be blown off the face of the planet by hurricane-level winds. No other god would help, in fact, they wished to keep you here. So you had to turn to him for assistance in finding a way home.

It was only by promising that he could pet Grim, a deal to which the feline disagreed to, did the god reluctantly hear you out. After your explanation, he scoffed as if looking at a simple equation like 2 + 2. Of course he knew the answer, but he wouldn't give out the assistance you needed. The deal was to hear you out, not help you out. He'd become quite bold in the private conversation, a sharp contrast to his previous anxious demeanor. There was no arguing against he who could slaughter gods with a snap of his fingers. Although you aren't as intolerable as other mortals, this he admits.

Departing from Ignihyde is highly unlikely, given how dense the fog is. You cannot even see the ground you're walking on. While, yes, the anemo deity hasn't assisted you, he will, eventually, probably, maybe... You're the first mortal Idia has ever asked to stay, so why would you turn your back to him?

DIASOMNIA

A wall of impenetrable thorns stands in the way, magically opening and creating a clear-cut path through dense forbidding forests lively with critters. The thorn walls close, effectively trapping you. There was something different. It was unlike all the previous nations, the very air itself felt off. With every step deeper into these whimsical woods, it felt as if you were not alone.

Once upon a time, there was a dragon. No one knows how long the dragon has been alive, only that even the oldest tales say he was already ancient way back when. Valleys were shaped by his claws, the rivers from his tail, rare ore came from his fallen scales buried in the earth, the tallest mountains were but small hills to him.

A god, an archon, the deity of dreams is by far the most powerful and most ancient of all divinity in the world.

Peace was his personal preference, as he enjoyed new company which he never truly received due to his fearsome reputation. However, when other divinity sought out his destruction and his home, the deity of electricity raged. Destruction was left in his wake across the entire globe, and everyone came to know the name Malleus.

Malleus commanded thorns to be raised like walls protecting his home, and constant violent storms to ward off anyone threatening to cause trouble. For hundreds of years, no foreigner was allowed to step foot within the nation's boundaries. Anyone that tried would quickly be reduced to ash, and just a number added to the untold amount he's slayed in order to protect himself and his territory. Kind he may be to his own, but to foes he is merciless. With his black horns and piercing eyes, some refer to him as a devil incarnate.

A land unseen by outlanders, it's peaceful and magical in it's beauty. However, it seems that while your presence may be surprising, it is not a shock. You're taken by knights in gray and black, escorted away. The god of electro, Malleus, has invited you to his castle. There is astonishment and disbelief in people's eyes, a foreigner alive and well. Most like you would have been reduced to particles before they could even step foot past the thorns.

Much to your horror, or relief, once you're brought to the god of dreams, he seems delighted to have you here. It seems your presence was expected, as all he said was, "So you've finally come to see me, hm? I was beginning to grow concerned that perhaps I would have been left out of your list of destinations."

This was the last option, the only one you could turn to in finding a way home. Surely, the most ancient and powerful deity would hold the answer and assist you, since he had been so kind as to allow you inside his nation. Although as welcoming as he may be, you must remember that despite his fang-toothed smile and the twinkle in his eyes, this man– no, god, was archaic and all-powerful. He must have killed more people than you will ever know, wiped out whole armies and flattened entire nations. Malleus tilts his head at you, requesting that you recount your tale, with every minute detail.

This will be the end, there will be no escaping Diasomnia. Of course, you shall not know until later. For now, the god of dreams delights in your stories. You were the first guest he's had in thousands of years, and one of the few who did not wish to slay the legendary dragon that was the electro deity. Malleus knows what you desire, he has seen it in your dreams. However, he will not be kind and grant you what you sought. If he did, then what he desired would then vanish: you.

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