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lxkeee · 4 months

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⋆.˚ . FLY ME TO THE MOON ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚.

—PART FOUR

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Archangel Raphael! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Notes: finally, a divorced man meets a divorced woman.

PART ONE | PART THREE | PART FIVE | MISC.

Nothing too interesting happened for the last couple of months, work on earth, do paperwork in heaven, repeat.

Scratch that, something did happen.

[Y/n] looked at her hand, seeing the gold band that was usually on her ring finger was now placed on her middle finger. A symbol of individuality and responsibility. She and Azrael finally got divorced—for shits and giggles. Just kidding. Azrael found love that's why and he and [y/n] it was time to end this marriage of theirs and remain friends. Azrael is now dating this cute principality angel named Francis. She supports them. She even set them up lmao.

They still continue doing their usual routine of spending their free time in each other's places (more on spending time at her home) and gossip.

She has to find her own love someday. [Y/n] sighs softly. Eyes staring outside her office window.

Today is the extermination day. She hopes Adam fucks up during it.

It was rather boring for the rest of the day. She was just flying around heaven and seeing if the order was maintained. [Y/n]'s eyes widened when she saw Emily showing someone around heaven. Someone familiar.

That's right! She saw this snake man during the meeting when Charlie was showing about Angel's progress.

He looks different though.

Her eyes widened, realization dawning upon her.

He got redeemed.

Blinking her eyes, eyes sparkling in excitement.

She calms herself down first, she needs to confirm it.

Flying next to Emily, the girl slightly jumps in surprise to see [y/n]. Despite the woman being one of god's seven virtues, Emily sees her as an older sister figure.

“Hi [y/n]! Nice to see you here, it has been awhile since I've last seen you!” Emily says excitedly, eyes sparkling and wings flapping from excitement from seeing the older woman. The man beside her just looked in confusion.

“Hello Emi, dear. I just so happen to have some free time so I was just flying around. Is this a new soul you're showing around?” [y/n] asked, smiling softly at the girl and the girl squealed.

“Yes! Actually, this man right here. Was a sinner and got redeemed! Isn't that amazing!” Emily says and [y/n]'s eyes widened and smiled, smirking a bit before returning it to a genuine smile. The confused snake just staring back and forth between the two girls.

“Really? Now, isn't that surprising. This... This changes everything.” [y/n] says with a whisper before turning to look at the redeemed soul.

“Tell me, mister. What is your name? As one of the seven virtues, I would like to know the name of the first sinner ever to be redeemed.” [y/n] says curtly and bows at him gracefully.

“I am Sssir Pentiousss... It is a pleassure to meet you... Misss?” Sir Pentious greeted, though a little awkward but cute.

“Greetings Sir Pentious, I am Raphael. An archangel and one of God's seven virtues. But you can call me [y/n].” [y/n] says with a small smile, offering her hand for a handshake which Sir Pentious accepted.

[Y/n] looked at her watch that's on her wrist, pretended to look worried. “As much as I want to stay and chat. I have somewhere else to be. Emily, Sir Pentious. It was nice seeing you two.” [y/n] says frantically, although just pretending.

Emily nodded and tried to calm the panicking archangel, “It's alright Miss [y/n], we can catch up later.” she says and [y/n] smiles and places a gentle kiss on the girl's forehead.

“Alright, have fun. And Sir Pentious?” [y/n] calls out to the man and he looks at her with confusion. “Welcome to heaven, I hope you'll enjoy your stay.” she says and quickly waves goodbye and flies away.

A meeting was then held with the seven virtues, they discussed what they should do next now that Charlotte Morningstar's hotel has worked. They agreed to put Sera on a trial but won't punish her severely like Lucifer.

“Adam's dead?” Camuel asked, shocked and [y/n] nodded.

“Apparently. Based on the exorcists' reports. Manz gone.” [y/n] says with a shrug and a lazy smirk.

“Finally!” Azrael laughs, the others just smirking.

“Good riddance.” Michael says calmly though a slight smirk on his face.

“What's our next course of action?” Gabriel asked, crossing her arms.

“Since this hotel the Morningstars are offering seems to work then there's only one thing we can do next.” Uriel says, sighing.

“Can't believe it actually worked. I guess we were wrong on how we treated Lucifer.” Camuel says and the others just shrug and sigh.

“We support this. We'll have to make sure this hotel keeps on working.” Jophiel says.

“[y/n].” Michael calls out and [y/n] can already tell where this is going.

“No.” she deadpans and Michael deadpans at her in return.

“What do you mean no? I haven't even asked yet.” Michael deadpans, Azrael chuckling beside [y/n].

“I just have a feeling I won't like it.” [y/n] says with a frown on her face.

“Too bad, you're doing it anyways. I want you to go down there and make sure to keep track of the hotel's progress.” Michael says sternly making [y/n] whine, she drops her head onto the circular table they were all sitting in. Groaning.

“More work? I don't wanna.” she says with a groan. Gabriel laughs.

“This can be an opportunity to get closure with you know who?” Uriel says with a chuckle.

“The fuck is closure? I don't need it.” [y/n] says, rolling her eyes.

“I think this is your chance [n/n]. I heard he's divorced lmao.” Jophiel cackles, [y/n] groaning once more.

“You two are going to be matching or twinsies!” Azrael teases making [y/n] glare at him playfully.

“Jokes aside. You need this [y/n]. Get some closure. We want you to be happy for once and I don't think we can handle more years of you feeling guilty for being so cold during the last time you saw him.” Camuel says softly, giving the girl a thumbs up.

“I better get extra day offs for this.” [y/n] says with a groan.

“Deal.” Michael says and [y/n] sighs.

It was a few weeks after the extermination that was targeted at the hotel. The hotel has been rebuilt and now looks even better than before. Charlie is happy that she and her friends managed to stop the extermination. There are some new sinners who wanted to give redemption a try so now the hotel is now bustling slightly. Her dad moved in and has a room of his own and helps her manage the hotel.

Currently, the crew are in the lobby just talking. It was already late in the evening and the other guests are now sleeping. Angel, Lucifer, and Husk were at the bar area. Niffty was cleaning, Vaggie and Alastor were on the couch.

Knock, knock, knock.

Loud knocks were heard on the front door of the hotel.

“New guests perhaps?” Alastor says with a grin, Charlie grins excitedly. A new soul wanting to try redemption.

The others just watched the girl walked towards the door, curious who was behind it.

Charlie took a deep breath, preparing herself to greet the new guest.

Opening the door, it was someone she did not expect.

A tall woman (almost the same height as Alastor) was standing by the door, a serious look on her face. What caught her attention was the amount of authority and power emitting from her and... The golden halo on her head and the small angel wings behind her head.

“Good evening Charlotte Morningstar, I came as a messenger from heaven.” the angel says with a grin.

Lucifer's body went pale as he heard that oh so familiar voice.

“[y/n]...” Lucifer murmurs in disbelief, seeing his supposed best friend now in front of the door.

“It has been awhile, Lucifer.” [y/n] says softly, eyes still emotionless. She's actually just dissociating so her eyes are like that, she can't control it okay. She has a serious case of lazy eyes.

“Ooohh drama...” Angel Dust whispers to Husk.

Suddenly an angelic spear was pointed at her throat, she did not flinch nor was afraid. She merely used her finger to move it away.

“What are you doing here?” the gray haired girl asked, glaring at her. [Y/n] just looked down on her with a smile on her face.

“I am just here to deliver a message. The seven virtues would like to support this hotel!” She says with a grin, Lucifer looked at her suspiciously.

Why wouldn't he? The seven virtues didn't listen to him before. So why now?

“Why now? Why did the seven decide to support this hotel just now?” Lucifer glares.

[Y/n] clapped her hands, Lucifer's eyes landing on the wedding band on her middle finger. It's no longer in her ring finger.

Alastor noticed the way the king of hell looked at the newly appeared angel with so much longing in his eyes. Interesting... Alastor grins.

“First and foremost, heaven apologizes for the yearly cleansing. It was a decision Sera, the high seraphim decided without informing us. We do not condone her actions and she would be faced in a trial.” [y/n] says nonchalantly, putting her hands on her pocket.

Lucifer flinches, he didn't know the decision was Sera's alone.

“Secondly, the hotel works.” [y/n] says with a grin.

This made the others look at her with confusion.

“A certain serpent sinner was redeemed. Ironic as the first one to doom humanity was a serpent and the first one to give humanity hope for redemption is also a serpent.” [y/n] laughs softly, Lucifer's eye twitched.

[Y/n]'s words sparked even more confusion with the others.

“Serpent?” Angel Dust asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“Someone who goes by Sir Pentious is now in heaven. Based on my records, he was a sinner before.” [y/n] says, shrugging.

Their eyes widened at the news. Sir Pentious is alive!

“How can we be so sure you're not lying?” Husk asked, raising an eyebrow at the woman. [Y/n] just chuckles.

“It is up to you if you believe it or not, after all... Angels never lie.” she says with a grin, summoning a small notebook from thin air, flipping through the pages of the notebook to scan for her notes.

“Lastly, I will be helping with the hotel during my scheduled time here. I'll be keeping track of the soul's progress here and research how a soul actually goes to heaven as Sir Pentious' case is a rare one and the first one so... We have no data. Heaven hopes to find more info about this case.” [y/n] explained, “I hope we'll get along.” she says with a grin.

Charlie's eyes widened, progress. Her hotel is making progress. Heaven is slowly helping her.

“Excuse me, Miss...?” Charlie softly calls, not knowing the angel's name.

[Y/n] looked at the smaller girl, patting the girl's head.

“My name is [y/n], also known as the archangel Raphael. One of God's seven virtues. It is a pleasure to finally meet you officially, Ms. Morningstar.” [y/n] introduces herself gracefully. Lucifer is still in awe in how fast she climbed the ranks.

Charlie nodded, finally happy to know the woman.

“Is there a way for us to visit Sir Pentious?” she asked hopefully, the others leaning in and hoping the same thing. [Y/n] closes her notebook, a loud sound sounding from it.

“I am sorry, heaven currently doesn't accept visitation unless necessary. Although, I can send letters back and forth whenever I visit.” She suggested, Charlie's eyes saddened but returned to hopeful. At least they know Sir Pentious is still alive.

“That would be all. I'll see you next time on my visit to keep track of the progress. Until then.” [y/n] says softly bowing at them. Turning her back and slowly walked away from the door.

Stopping, she didn't turn around to face them again.

“And Lucifer...?” she says, hesitating but her voice is vulnerable. Lucifer's breath hitched and the others just looked at the scene with curiosity. It is obvious these two knew each other based on how they already know each when she first arrived. They can practically sense the tension.

“I was wrong and I am sorry.” she says softly. Summoning her three pairs of wings, large and majestic.

She has wings now... Lucifer thought. His eyes softened when he heard her apologize.

“Wait... [Y/n]—” He called out but she didn't listen.

[Y/n] quickly flies away, a portal opening for her and closes after she enters.

“Did anyone else notice the tension...?” Angel asked, voicing out everyone's thoughts, a smirk on his face. Angel didn't mention that he really felt the unspoken romantic tension between the two angelic beings. He's getting more tea.

“This is getting interesting.” Alastor says with a grin and Lucifer knows that the radio demon just found more ways to torment him.

End notes: I know some of you read Alastor's line in Zhongli or Childe's voice lmao. And yes, Azrael and reader divorced each other. I had to ship Azrael with my oc okayy, I need Azrael to have some love 💀

TAGLIST:

@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata

#hazbin hotel #lxkeee answers #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #lxkeee updates #lucifer #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel x reader

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hecates-corner · 7 months

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I had an epiphany.

In “My Goodbye” from Epic - The Musical, Athena is referencing past heroes who she too abandoned, whether that was Jorge’s intention or not.

“This day, you sever your own head”

Perseus, who had slain Medusa

“This day, you cut the line”

Bellerophon, who was crippled/who died when he fell from the back of Pegasus, due to the crossing of the line of Olympus’s high heavens and the earth he wished to impress

“This day, you lost it all”

Jason, who’s wife, Medea, murdered his new wife, the woman’s father, and her very own children, and then he was forgotten

Consider this as my goodbye! This came to me in a dawning realization.

#epic the musical #greek mythology #greek myth #mythology #odysseus #athena #epic athena #athena epic #jorge rivera herrans #perseus #bellerophon #jason and the argonauts #epic the cyclops saga

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actual-changeling · 8 months

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Crowley watches him silently, motionless, and with his shades securely in place. If he has been counting correctly, and he rather assumes he has, then Aziraphale has been talking uninterruptedly for twenty-five minutes and two seconds now.

Three seconds.

"…so, I'm sorry, Crowley. I'm so, so sorry."

He is wringing his hands, unable to stand still, and shifting his weight slightly from foot to foot, searching for Crowley's gaze and failing. The sudden silence feels almost odd, the expectation rolling off Aziraphale in waves even more so, only infinitely heavier, and for a moment, he entertains the thought playing the part Aziraphale has thrust upon him.

But only for a moment.

"Right," Crowley responds, tightening his grip on the door and pressing his other palm against the frame, effectively barring Aziraphale from entering like he has been for the last twenty-six minutes.

"Anything else?"

Confusion wrinkles his forehead, and his fingers no longer turn his ring round and round over a stretch of reddened skin. Maybe it is the utter monotony of Crowley's voice or the lack of reaction in general, but Aziraphale seems, finally, at a loss for words. His mouth opens and closes a few times, his eyebrows knitting together, and Crowley allows him another thirty seconds of patient waiting, after which he calls it a day.

"Great."

He steps back and closes his front door, normally and without slamming it, locks it, and then miracles up a deadbolt for good measure, before picking up his cup of coffee from the chest of drawers (still hot if it knows what's good for it) and strolling back to the living room.

Eighteen months. A year and a half. Another apocalypse is dawning on the world, but if there is anything the last six millennia have taught him, it's that humanity will fix it anyway; they have a knack for that, always outsmarting heaven and hell alike. Well, and him, since he is neither here nor there—so, a special mention to the former angel slash demon Crowley, thank you very much.

A familiar pain tugs at his stomach nevertheless, a faded lightning bolt of distress shivers down his spine, and Crowley sinks into the cushions with a sigh, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table and pressing play on Queer Eye again. The ache will never fully disappear, but it has lessened, and he has learned how to live with it, how to breathe around the crudely stitched-up black hole in his chest.

Aziraphale left, and Crowley stayed. It's really simple, in hindsight, and after weeks of moping and crying, being completely wasted for days at a time, and overall being so miserable, every single one of his plants stopped being scared and became concerned instead, Crowley had picked himself off the floor and kept moving.

Not moving on is worse, Nina had told him during one of their board game nights (none of them can resist Muriel's angelic puppy eyes in that regard, and it is, admittedly, kind of fun), and she had been right.

He still loves him, fuck, of course he does; he doubts he will ever stop. Yet if Aziraphale thinks showing up uninvited and monologuing without pause for twenty-five minutes is going to fix anything, he is sorely mistaken.

'Listen, do you hear that?'

'I don't hear anything.'

Ironic, somehow, that Aziraphale is still not listening to him. Crowley will wait because it's Aziraphale, because he loves him, because despite everything, he is fucking lonely and misses him enough to be tempted to take him back without any apologies whatsoever.

Just tempted, though. His barricades and well-practiced self-control are going strong.

He has to be sure this time. He has to be sure that Aziraphale won't break him again, because the most recent incident almost killed him, and Crowley loves earth, loves him—but he has to love himself more than he loves his angel, or it will destroy them both.

Jonathan van Ness gives some poor sod a new haircut, Crowley drinks his piping hot coffee, and Aziraphale goes home.

It's a nice Tuesday, all things considered.

i'm sorry but also not :)

#alex writes good omens #good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable divorce #good omens ficlet

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aziraphales-library · 24 days

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Hi there everyone! Thank you so much for everything that you do~

I was wondering if you could please recommend some fics that have absolutely beautiful prose? I couldn't find a tag for it but similar to A portrait in synesthesia or The Injury Of Finally Knowing You (unpack_my_heart_with_words).

Thank you and hope you're all having a lovely day❤

Here are some fics from my bookmarks that I have tagged "beautiful"...

Strawberry Wine by GaryOldman (NR)

Human AU Ineffable Husbands one shot. "You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you." - Richard Siken

Empty and Desolate, The Air by asparkofgoodness (M)

Ever a guardian, Aziraphale kept watch. Sliver-shafts of moonlight sliced ribbons across Crowley’s face. The emptiness of it unnerved the angel. Even in slumber, his expressive face had always told stories. Syllables shifted in the corners of his mouth; sentences found themselves punctuated with the movement of an eyebrow. Now, only still silence, even in sleep. Heavenly forces decide the best way to get their once-dutiful soldier back is to slaughter his only real reason for rebellion. Their attempt leaves Crowley wounded and voiceless. Aziraphale tries his best to heal him and accept the soundlessness of this new verse of their song.

You Said Go Slow (I Fall Behind) by BlackUnicorn (G)

Further up, still, half-hidden by the branches of the trees and the leaves of the hedges, stood a cottage. It looked like any other cottage, really, with a thatched roof and a fainted paintjob and a garden out back. However, anyone who took a closer look would agree that this particular cottage was, in fact, quite extraordinary – the roses ranking up the stone arch in the front bloomed more lustrous than any roses ever seen on earth, the car in the driveway was almost antique and yet looked like it had rolled out of the factory no longer than a few weeks ago, the shelves inside held more books than should be physically possible, and the Mona Lisa sketch in the hallway was said to have been signed by dear old Leo himself. And there, in the first-floor bedroom, covered by piles of duvets and blankets, lay the Demon Crowley, alone, staring unblinkingly at the ceiling from behind his sunglasses, waiting for dawn. *** Sometimes healing and moving on is the hardest part.

Exit Wounds by racketghost (T)

“At least they were together for a time,” Crowley says, staring at the lit end of his cigarette, “maybe that’s enough.” Part 1 of Strange Moons series (G-E)

l’esprit de l’escalier by seekwill (M)

l’esprit de l’escalier: that feeling you get when you leave a conversation and think of all the things you should have said With his books and his clothes and other curiosities he’d collected since beginning his time in London, Aziraphale considered himself a curator of beautiful things. He found beauty in people too, in the way they moved and spoke and laughed. This man, who was very nearly past him now, almost gone, shook him. He couldn’t understand why. There was an impulse to reach out, to wrap his blunt fingers around the man’s skinny wrist on his handlebars, say “Hello there, might you have a moment to explore why I’ve fallen in love with you just now?” An adaptation of Jean-Pierre Jeunet's 2001 film Amélie, as part of the GO Romantic Comedy Event

Not a Human AU by maniacalmole (G)

Aziraphale knows Crowley has a crush and doesn't know what to do about it. Aziraphale wasn’t sure if he considered himself ‘alive’ or not. What would he do if he had to live a life? We may not be people, Crowley thought. But I do—I do want.

And the two you mentioned...

The Injury Of Finally Knowing You by unpack_my_heart_with_words (T)

Once in heaven, the angels do what they always do— a kindness. The only blessing is that without his memories, Aziraphale has no idea what he has lost. It will end, as it began, in a garden.

A Portrait in Synesthesia by DiminishingReturns (M)

In the innocent time before the Fall complicated everything, one shy, studious chronicler and one curious, chaotic starmaker fell in love. They were left with no memory of each other, but the soul remembers what the mind forgets, and their experiences together left them with a unique kind of synesthesia— the emotional state, mannerisms, and voice of one having a paired physical response (smell, taste, or color) in the other. Follow Aziraphale and Crowley from the pre-Fall times to the Apocalypse as these heightened earthly senses continually pull them back together. At first, they meet tentatively under Halley’s Comet, the last thing Crowley created as a starmaker and an excuse to keep returning to one another’s orbit. But over the millennia, their relationship deepens and they find new reasons to seek each other’s company.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #prose #beautiful #mod d

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libby-for-life · 2 months

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So, I got an idea for a request, an Au with Adam as Demeter, the Greek G̶o̶d̶d̶e̶s̶s̶ God of agriculture.

So this takes place right after the whole Lucifer and Lilith Incident. Adam is left reeling from the betrayal of his first friend (yeah "friend") and his other half. The angels tell him that they will make him a new companion, but he doesn't want a replacement, he wonders what he did to deserve them both leaving him (developing those abandonment issues already, I see).

But with a sudden great and mighty crack of thunder and lightning, Adam disappears from Eden and appears in Mount Orthys. He is found by Rhea, who is tired of all her kids haven been eaten by her husband Kronos and decided to take him in, before being found out and promptly being eaten whole, joining the others (except Demeter because she doesn't exist and is replaced by Adam) in Kronos stomach even though he's not thier sibling.

Back in Eden, the entirety of Heaven is freaking out because the first man is just gone. He's nowhere in Eden. He just disappeared under their noses. Once they

calm down, decide since they already made Eve as a replacement for Lilith, they can just make a replacement for Adam. Using Eve's rib, they create Steve and erase Adam and Lilith from history, their titles of first man and woman now belonging to Eve and Steve.

When Lucifer breaks into Eden, he succeeds convincing Eve to bite the apple, but when he tells her to give it to Adam as well (definitely not because he's a yandere for him and is his top priority), Eve asks who Adam is.

Eve: Adam? Who is that?

Lucifer: ...Adam? You know the first man??

Eve: You mean my husband Steve! He's the first man, not whoever this 'Adam' is

Lucifer:....what.

*I've already thought of more scenarios with this Au, but this is already pretty long, so i'll stop it here

Now, you kinda need to give me more, but this is beautiful. I love the idea of Adam becoming a God. Rhea slowly feeds him a special salve that turns him immortal. And while technically he is Adam, the god of agriculture and farming. He also had another name that he went by. The Reaper. It's where the scythe originated from. He reaps the fields and it's up to him on whether you have plentiful food or a drought that year.

He came across Persephone and immediately adopted her as his own once he saw how innocent she was to the world. She reminded him so much of Lucifer of someone he once knew but he couldn't put his finger on it.

She was creative with Spring. Such beautiful flowers came from her. The angels may have may have made the earth, but the gods were what kept it going. Kept it from dying. The angels in Heaven thought that they did a good job making the world and the universe but it was Adam's family that kept it from perishing. He had a family in the gods. They treated Adam as one of their own.

Until one day, Persephone gets kidnapped and taken to Hell. Adam is on a war path. He will find his daughter and the gods are backing him up.

The entirety of Hell shakes and splits open as twelve-foot-tall people radiating power and light storm in, all wielding weapons that, despite not being angelic weapons, are powerful enough to kill sinners.

They will find Persephone.

Meanwhile, Lucifer soon catches wind of these godly beings and goes to confront them. He sees Adam for the first time since the dawn of Eden and nearly has a heart attack. Adam. The first man. He was back.

#hazbin hotel #adamsapple #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #greek mythology

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tiredrxtz · 24 days

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New beginnings: down with the sinners [Part 1/3]

T’was a dreary night when two stars destined apart finally aligned, their shine— blinding yet enrapturing —seen throughout both heaven and hell alike; a symbol that shattered through Japans history.

This was, without a doubt, the recreation of two beings that died two very different deaths on the same hour but on two very different days...

It was so dreadfully boring being kept in the depths of a citadel dungeon in the middle of the forest, hanging from the wall by nothing but chained wrists. There was no telling what time of day it was; days could’ve turned into nights and Fyodor wouldn’t have know.

However, despite being conducted to such torture methods, Fyodor did not yield nor did he give into the aching sensation that settled within his body— a silent plea that forged many to confess their crimes.

Yet he was no criminal, in fact he was a traitor— that’s what he was deemed to be. On the orders of Count Bram Stocker, he was played for a fool; he had been charged (mostly under suspicion) for trespassing into forbidden land and being a spy from a neighboring land.

What a joke. Like he’d allow some useless king to have the upper hand over him...

Being a prisoner held at capture for such heinous things did prove to be quite the bore. There was nothing to do but stand around and listen to the conversations of the guards that often switched places between dusk and dawn. Everyday was practically the same; but today was rather different and Fyodor appreciated the change...

“The Count want this criminal at mid city?” One of the knights abrupt disbelief echoed through the small underground chamber. Fyodor’s eyes gleamed a sinful crimson at the sudden news— today will prove to be a spectacle indeed.

Unlike all those fantasy books that scribed the tale of criminals being killed while in transportation portraying a fake reasoning, Fyodor’s journey to the city centre was rather peaceful— the guards left him alone and he had the chance to gaze into the evening skies once more.

That alone meant that something important was to occurs and he was summoned to witness the deed on purpose— on an order perhaps?

There were thousands, if not, millions of people gathered around the spectacle housed in the centre when Fyodor was forced to his knees next to the vampire that captured him. The people didn’t pay heed towards his figure and yet instead continued their chanting of—

“Down with the sinner, long live the lord!”

As much as Fyodor liked the ideology of being gods messenger, he truly wondered if the beings inhabiting earth were even human; the violent verdicts conducted on those who wronged the rules were nothing a human would recommend but be such things a demon would spew.

Reality was a confusing spectrum that not even he understood but there was one thing that settled in his mind at the end of the day: Sinners must die and the lord must live— and being the messenger of the Devine meant becoming a sinner to unravel the blade of divinity...

“Proceed with the onslaught.” Bram commanded lowly, his piercing crimson gaze never strayed far from the sight before him.

Eyes boring into the crowd, Fyodor could just about make a discrete vision of a silhouette perched upon a stage, their hands restrained to the pole that loomed above them; it was a girl...

The female didn’t seem much older than he was, perhaps she was even younger; She stood unaffected by the common people’s discrimination and simply gazed at the wooden surface below her own feet.

Ah, an execution.

”With being charged several times with the allegation of witchcraft, today, Y/n L/n shall no longer take her final stand against humanity and instead will be purified by the flames of god!” A man preached from beside the young girl, holding a flaming torch to the people in accomplishment, earning cheers of joy from the crowd.

what a pity.

Fyodor expected the girl to plead for mercy before the executioner like most did when put on similar trials of death, but... she did nothing at all...

For the first time in his life, Fyodor wished to know what was going on in somebody else’s head— he wanted to know everything that played before her in her mind as the man dropped the source of fire onto the stack of hay surrounding her.

he...wanted to know her name...

“A pity, really.” Bram spoke sternly yet not directly towards the crown or his guards, this was directed towards him.

“May I ask what it is that you find so pitiful?”

“You humans taking another’s life just because somebody pointed a finger—what kind of humans are you if all you do is play follow the leader?”

“sometimes people need someone else to take their blame, it’s a natural way of life. Humans cannot feel nothing more than humanity if they do not commit a sinners act.”

The Count did not dare speak after that but Fyodor could feel his piercing gaze on him as he sat motionless on the ground, peering at the burning corpse of the young girl.

The beige maiden dress cascading her figure was burnt from the waist down as the flames grew higher and higher. For the first time, Fyodor met her [e/c] eyes head on.

They were just like his own; blank yet held an abyss stronger than hell itself...

The guards surrounding the Count and himself gaped in disbelief and horror, as did the crowd, when the girl being burnt to death before their very own eyes managed to remove a single hand from the restraints and reach outwards.

Fyodor couldn’t compel himself to gaze away. Her hand was covered in the soot of the flaming ashes spewing into the atmosphere but that didn’t seem to stop her from cradling the air as if it were a face.

“....A human born to be different from the rest; a wondering soul that carried humanity to its end...”

From there on out, Fyodor couldn’t help but visualize that very girls death over and over again in his mind. Even when he was escorted back to the dungeon, those fake flames of god burned at the pure self hidden away deep within him, leaving the impure counterpart behind...

The sinner he had been made to act as was no fake facade, he was a sinner born through both spirit and soul....

T’was a night so dreary when Fyodor was impaled by a spear, a death recommended by the Count Bram Stocker himself.

A suitable way to rid the world of his sinful body.

What had made history was never seen again because, after both dreadful nights, the two stars that shone hand in hand, despite being destined apart, vanished and never shone again...

That left the sky devoid of purity, leaving nothing but a vulnerable canvas of evil...

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd fyodor #bungou stray dogs Fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor x reader #manga spoilers #chapter 114.5 #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #bsd nikolai #nikolai gogol #bsd sigma #sigma #decay of angels #Season 5 Bungou stray dogs #prison arc #dead apple

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yeetus-feetus · 4 months

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tangled au (WIP)

Inspired by this ↓ post

Created by this ↓ account

@dragonpyre (I hope this is okay, you just really inspired me is all)

So here:

Jason, second heir to the throne of Gotham, was a happy little boy with a very loud personality. A former street kid, he was adopted into royalty at the age of 3 following his mother’s death, much like his older brother Richard, by the current King of Darkness. Make no mistake by the title he holds, Bruce Wayne is a very Just king though he cloaks himself in the fine fabrics of midnight and gold emblems that glitter like the stars.

But the young prince Jason was a ball of energy with a smart mouth and a baby as he were, often got on the wrong people's nerves. There was one man in particular, the Jester of the court– who was perhaps something more than a simple Jester to the King, maybe even a friend– had joined the Royal staff after a terrible accident that disfigured him many moons before Jason himself was even born.

On this day, Jason was only five when he trod on the odd man’s toes. He can’t remember what he’s said to the man, but it was something with loud youthful ignorance behind it, maybe something about his permanent smile and moon-pale skin. It wasn’t anything nice, to say the least, but who can blame a child of such brutal, unthinking honesty without the better knowledge on how such things were hurtful.

Maybe a man with a soft heart, and the belief he could give everyone in his Kingdom a better life and a second chance, should be blamed on keeping criminals and the insane in his company. Maybe a toddler in bright mocking colours shouldn’t have been left unattended to in the palace halls after a silly disagreement regarding his mother.

The wicked Jester did not return to the King’s court after that night.

Nor did the young Prince Jason. The boy was found in a puddle of his own bastard blood in a storeroom downstairs by the cellar, in teeny tiny shackles with his small bones shattered, tear streaks still wet on his cheeks as he lay limp on the cold cement floor.

The King had wept, cradling his broken body close to him, wailed and begged for the boy to come back to him, pleading for forgiveness from a child who was no more. The King of Darkness caressed the soft face of a lifeless shell, and that was when the shadows spoke.

A deep eerie voice had filled his ears from all directions, reminding him of a tale he had believed to be only myth. The story of the moon when she wept for her own son once very long ago …

A single tear of moonlight had fallen from the heavens, and from this small drop of sorrow bloomed a magic, glowing flower. It had the ability to heal the sick and injured– and in extremely rare cases, even raise the dead if the moon wished it so.

“However, the Flower of Lazarus is protected by a Demon whom hoards it for its youth restoring power”, the low voice warned. “And you have only until the fourth day, beginning when the sun breaks over your Kingdom at dawn, to retrieve it. For when the sun sets on that day, the boy will remain in a tomb forever.”

Bruce, because he is no King down here with a dead son in his arms, remains speechless and confused. Before he could gather his thoughts and interrogate the validity of this supernatural voice, a flock of bats screeched and swarmed and then the voice was gone.

And a man was left in a cold empty room with his beaten bloody son, fear and determination filling his heavy heart. A hope that in four days time, his son will be returned to the earth and fill the Palace with his laughter once more.

⧫

The quest carried out by the King’s Guard had proved successful, and the magic of the Lazarus Flower, brewed into a glowing green liquid potion heals the dead Prince’s body on the morning of the fourth day. A new tale of rebirth bringing the kingdom together as the King launched a floating lantern into the darkness of the night sky, a symbol of prevailing hope and new life, to celebrate the return of his beloved young son.

For that one moment, everything was perfect.

And then that moment ended.

A cloaked woman had entered young Jason’s room that very night by way of the balcony, silently creeping towards the boy’s bed where he slept soundly, unknowing to the threat of her presence. The woman pulls back her hood and strokes a deadly gentle hand up over his face until she reaches his soft baby curls as she sings in hushed tones.

“Flower gleam and glow”

And glow the child’s hair did, a bright green hue filling the room. She pulled a long lock of the glowing hair taught between calloused fingers, reaching into the deep green of her garments for the jewelled hilt of a small sharp knife as she continued.

“Let your powers shine”

The blade glinted in the unnatural light as the woman’s tan hand brought the sharpened knife up…

“Make the clock re–”

But as the knife sliced through the strands of hair it turned lifeless and lost its colour, turning moon-white and powerless. The shock and confusion was clear on the woman’s face, a frown carving its way into her beautiful features as she realised what she must do in order to fulfil her father’s wishes.

Just like that, Jason was stolen. Gone.

The Kingdom searched and searched, but their attempts at recovering the small boy proved nothing but futile and the King lost all his hope. They could not find the Prince of Gotham.

For deep within the forest, in a tall hidden tower, far away from his home, the woman– Talia Al Ghul– raised the child as her own.

#tangled au #jason todd #jason peter todd #jayroy #bruce wayne #alternate universe #batman

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fizzyxcustard · 2 years

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Our Story.

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader

Summary: It is your last night in Erebor before you leave. You have been a member of the Company and now that the mountain kingdom has been re-claimed, you are ready to leave and begin a new life on your own. However, Thorin calls for you to spend one last meal with him.

Comments/Notes/Housekeeping: Requested by @lemond57with the prompt 'Our story does not need to end here". If you enjoy this fic, please consider a reblog as they are always appreciated and get pieces of work circulated.

I haven't mentioned how the reader came to be with the Company, so that is up to you to decide.

Your bag was packed and your clothing for the next day was neatly folded over the chair by your desk. You took a glance around the room, having grown fond of your home for the last six weeks. Sleeping in a proper bed had been heaven, meaning that you could have lie ins virtually every morning and not rise out of bed until way after dawn. It was welcome comfort after being on the road with Thorin's Company for the last eight months.

On the end of your bed was a piece of folded parchment. It had been quite a surprise when you woke to find it, sealed within an envelope, having been pushed under your bed chamber door. When you opened it, you were shocked to see such beautiful penmanship. Ornate lettering in jet black ink. Signed off by the king, but only using his given name. That was how he had often requested you address him. No titles. No airs and graces. Just Thorin.

The letter was his proposal for dinner. One last meal together before you disappeared from the mountain the next morning at dawn.

You dressed appropriately for any such occasion: dinner with the king. A burgundy dress with matching slippers. Your usual breeches and baggy shirt would not do tonight. Despite having always had such a down to earth relationship with the king, you still owed him respect on your last evening together.

As you arrived at the main dining hall, a guard took you through the huge, wooden doors. He bowed his head to Thorin, who was sat at the head of the central table, and then said your name, announcing your arrival.

Thorin thanked the guard and got up from his seat. He was smiling, and stepped towards the seat which was immediately to his left hand side. He pulled out the chair, your sign to sit.

"Good evening," you said, offering him a smile. You thanked him for pulling out your seat and rested your hands in your lap.

"Wine?" he asked.

"Yes, please," you replied.

Thorin poured two glasses of wine "I hope you did not think it too forward of me to ask you join me for dinner tonight. I wished to speak with you in regard to your departure tomorrow."

"Of course not. I'm glad you asked me to attend. I couldn't have left without some kind of goodbye."

Thorin sighed and looked at you, his blue eyes growing saddened by your words. "The truth is, I was hoping that tomorrow would not hold any goodbyes. I wish that there had to be no goodbyes."

"Thorin, I'm not one of your people, and it would be wrong of me to stay."

"Why would it be wrong?" Thorin asked, raising his eyebrow. "Our story does not need to end here."

"What do you mean?"

Thorin got to his feet and turned his back from you, with his hands clasped together. "I...I have come to feel a lot for you. Maybe I lived in hope that our stories would entwine somewhere. But I have not seen any sign that it is what you wish also."

You gasped. "W...why did you not say anything sooner?"

"Because I knew there was a very real risk that one of us, or even both of us, may not have made it home. But now that we are both here, alive, I could not let you leave without at least posing the question to you."

You remained quiet, feeling your heart pound. It was thumping so hard in your chest and throat.

"Will you allow me to court you?"

Shock was all you could feel.

Thorin turned back around, his face full of sadness still. "I should not have asked. Silence is answer enough."

You broke through your shock with words of exclamation. "No...No! Please. You caught me off guard."

Thorin remained still, watching your expression closely. Never before had he felt so vulnerable, ready to give his whole future and heart to someone else. Was this the moment you agreed to protect his heart, or would you break it?

"Yes. I want nothing more than to stay with you," you said, a broad smile breaking through the nervousness. You exhaled and got to your feet before Thorin, where you rushed forward and cupped his cheeks with your hands. "I dreamed of this so many times, but never thought it would be possible."

The two of you kissed, and every night forth from then, you remained in Erebor next to the man you loved.

***

Follow Forever tag list: @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @xxbyimm @knittastically @middleearthpixie @meganlpie @linasofia @luna-xial @guardianofrivendell @eunoiaastralwings @rachel1959 @asgardianhobbit98 @sunflwrnsunnieshine @msjava1972 @tschrist1 @quiall321 @enchantzz

#Thorin Oakenshield #The Hobbit #Fanfiction #Richard Armitage #Thorin x You #Thorin x Fem!Reader #Thorin x Reader #Thorin Oakenshield x Reader #Thorin Oakenshield x You #Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader

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woneuntonzz · 13 days

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𝖙𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝖈𝖔𝖔𝖐𝖎𝖊 || s.mg x reader

An alternate universe of wizards, witches, and celestial beings

ꜱʏᴘɴᴏꜱɪꜱ: In the tales created by the rulers of mystic society, all the magic in the world came from a single stone —the White Diamond— and was bestowed to the world by the very first sorcerers that hailed from the heavens; the Keepers. Those tales turned out to be true. And know, an evil force seeks the the power of the White Diamond. This evil overpowered the Keepers, leaving you who had retired from being of high power. Know it is up to you to fight this evil and await the hero from the prophecy that is said to be the saviour of the world.

contains: angst, fluff, a dash of humor, slightly suggestive (just squint maybe?), combat and blood, fantastical, names and themes derived from greek mythology, angels and demons, use of spells and incantations, (an attempt) made up greek chant, telepathy, wizards and witches, and wands, extensive backgrounds

word count: 8.17k

[an: yes, there is a part two (and quite possible a three) after this week]

⛦ ᴊᴏɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ!

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐭 .ᐟ -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

You’ve laid out a new batch of freshly baked cookies, straight out the oven and still bathe your face with steam. The smell of different cooked sugars and the aroma of the dozen flavors you had to offer whistled for customers that roamed the outside world. It was a heavenly time of the day, where wizards, witches and their children came with such delightful faces that wanted nothing more but a bite of your warm and delectable pastries.

“Lemon chiffon please, five slices.” the velvet-haired witch smiles at you with her pearly white canines, holding her son’s hand. The boy was about the height of your shoulders and he wore a junior wizard badge on his blazer.

“Coming right up!” your voice, jolly and as sweet as your baked goods, made them smile. You’d watch them from the corner of your eyes as you got them five slices of the lemon chiffon cake from the display case.

The bells chimed right as you went back to them. More customers had arrived as the sunshine warmed up the sorcerous lands.

Those were simpler times. When magic was as wonderful as they’d be in children’s fantasies. It was all gone. A dark force took over what was once the land of joy and enchantment, now an ominous place where it was all shades of black, gray, and blood. Then, no one would dare challenge the sentinels that watched over the mystic grounds, but they were all gone with what seemed like a snap of a finger. Evil reigned upon the kingdom of sorcerers, the king they praised and loved was slain and his head was hung at the Fountain of Tears, the very center of the land.

You had failed to aid the sorcerers at battle, concealing the last shard of the White Diamond —what the great Ahriman seeked that would give him all the magic in the world. He’d be unstoppable. You had it with you, ever since being brought down on Earth as a Keeper. The White Diamond was the source of all magic that ran through the very land you walk on. The dawn of mystic society began with the Keepers shattering the White Diamond, releasing its magic and finding its way to the wizards and witches of today. There was no use for the Keepers to hide such power as you were already granted with eternal life and sorcery at birth. Each shard was kept between twelve Keepers —including you, and with the progression of mystic society, you left the guardian life behind, settling at a cozy spot in town as a baker. It was no ideal life for some, but for someone like you who had endured thousands of years and hundreds of wars, it was the best gift life could offer. Living amongst the mortals, you carried a shard of the White Diamond, keeping it hidden with an obscuring spell.

You knew the time was bound to come, that one vicious soul would one day seek the power of the White Diamond. It was the sole reason why the shards were kept separately. It was in the prophecy.

“Destruction awaits your haven, and a sword with the devil’s essence…”

Ahriman was once a loyal servant of the south kingdom where there was no magic. He lost his family to an unforeseeable attack that killed a few dozen families. There was no truth to who might be the culprit, but Ahriman believed it was the mystic society. Blue flames and glittered fumes, it was magic, and he was certain it was the work of a sorcerer. Yet, there is no motivation for the mystic society to attack. With the lack of reason, Ahriman was hindered with his mission to seek vengeance and was locked away by the king. He spent two decades inside that dungeon, with pent up wrath and anguish. The spirit of Belial sensed the great power he withheld. Belial was banished under the oceans of eternal agony —Keeper Cordelia’s prison for banished spirits— but his power remained puissant, as his remaining disciples chanted his name he was able to whisper to Ahriman and grant him the strength of six armies. Ahriman escaped, leaving the walls of his prison obstructed. He was to come back to the south to kill the king, but not without the power of the White Diamond.

At the occurrence of those events, you were already retired from being a Keeper and surrendered your magic to the old Keepers’ well. You blended in with the mortals, using incantations and spells, and a wand granted to you by Keeper Zephyr as a token. They were your family, and they understood your reasons. Never did they question nor oppose your decisions. You’ve served well, and it is you who gave the mystic society its mystique. You found the White Diamond from the caves of the lost tribes, and the spirit of the tribes told you to shatter the diamond, and the fate of the society would be in the hands of the Keepers. It was from those spirits that you’d be given that prophecy. Along with Ahriman’s rule, was the rise of a hero.

“Young eyes you’ll meet, and he will wear the darkness when he returns. He is the might of the society, his heart is the true yielder of the White Diamond and he will save a Keeper’s soul.”

The hero was yet to come. But you had to wait. You hoped that the hero was a sorcerer who can help you revive your magic from the well. Because after Ahriman’s attack on mystic society, what was once your sanctuary for your passions of tending to the wizards and witches, would become a desolate place for potions and wands bound to no possessors. You were in no power to resist nor attempt to fight the circumstances. You’ve had futile attempts at the well, unable to solve the Keepers’ riddles, and your magic would remain with the well’s dew. Ahriman’s soldiers would come into your shack thrice a week for duneberry serums to get rid of any wounds, relieve any pain. On occasion, they would stop by to retrieve special potions —that you had received a mandate letter for— that you could only guess was for battling and slaying the mystic beasts of the society woodlands. You’ve been given an order to brew silver hare drops at the time of Aries. It was used on weapons, splayed on blades. Once the solution is mixed in with a being’s blood, their heart will stop within the count of five seconds for smaller bodies, and twelve seconds for larger ones. You knew they visited your shop for a cruel purpose, under vengeful orders. You knew you shamed Keeper Fauna’s values. The mystic society was meant to house and protect those beasts because they protected the mystic from monsters that dare threaten the society’s inhabitants.

For years, you’ve been devising a plan to escape this land of chaos, and retrieve your powers from the well. And soon you’ll meet the hero in the prophecy and save the mystic society. It just won’t be very soon. Escaping was harder than living under Ahriman’s ruling. The sentinels became punishers, minds corrupted to serve the great evil. You did not have enough strength or magic to get past them, and they were near every means of escape. It was a seemingly impossible dream that you’ve fostered for a decade. And Ahriman was still on the hunt for the White Diamond’s missing piece. You knew by then that he had killed the other Keepers with Belial’s influence. You could hear Belial’s whispers again, that’s when you knew that he was coming back once he’s garnered all the power Ahriman had to offer to him through bloodlust. He would rise from the oceans of eternal agony with his army of undead wizards, then he would yield all the gold of Earth and call for the wrathful dragon, undefeated and fated to destroy the world, the gateway to Ragnarök, Flauros.

As long as the last shard is with you, Ahriman’s malevolent schemes will be thwarted. Nights left no room for sleep as you studied the shard. Tapping the end of your wand against its sharp edges, it creates small sparks that produce puffs of smoke and magic dust. It smelt of dew of the caves from which the White Diamond was found. The shard would illuminate when held, but it would be very meek. The first time you held the White Diamond —when it was still intact— its shine lit up the entire cave. The diamond as a whole emitted sparks of endless magic dust that landed all over your hands and all over your silk, translucent robe. The shard alone that you held in your hand at this very moment does not behave the same if not thoroughly meddled with.

“...his heart is the true yielder of the White Diamond…

and he will save a Keeper’s soul…”

It was midnight, and the sudden knock to your shop’s locked door spiked the fear in your nerves. It could be Ahriman’s soldiers —or Ahriman himself, coming to seize that last shard. You are defenseless without your magic, your wand and spells will never be enough to fight him or his men as they were granted power by Belial and were under his control. Belial’s spirit would only grow stronger, and soon, fragments of his consciousness would live within their souls. You feared that when you answered the door, you'd look straight into Belial’s eyes, like you did before when you sought to capture him. It was you who battled him with telepathy —the gift of your magic— and loss, your soul almost being eaten by him. Taking a deep breath, you unlock the door, sliding the latch off, you release some air, right before opening the door, just enough for you to peek.

But you would be met with nothing but the darkness of night. “To who’s knock have I answered?” you’ve counted the few seconds of silence —twenty long seconds, before a hand slightly pushes the door open. “You mustn't enter without your answer. To who’s knock have I answered?”

It was a man, and he would clear his throat before he sounded his response, “I am looking for the sorceress Y/n.”

He tried to push the door open, but you’d keep it still with your hand from the inside. “To who’s knock have I answered?”

“I am Mingi. I’m the son of the head witch of Celeste’s manor.”

Celeste —the name given to you by the Gods as a Keeper. You were one with the celestial bodies, their light giving you power to look into the minds of mortals and immortals alike, and control them. But you no longer had that power with you. “Inside.”

You spread the door open, finally seeing his full figure. He was dressed in black, a long coat and a homburg on his head. You meet his eyes that were the color of silver. You knew him, and his mother most of all —the only mortal that knew of your true self, the witch you’ve entrusted your treasures, crystals, and manor with, head witch Verbena. Your manor was a shelter to young witches who attend collegiate courses for sorcery, alchemy, and psychomancy at the mystic academy. You used to visit when you had the time, dropping off pastries for the witches, and for the little boy that ran through the halls to ask if you had brought his favorite. The little boy who asked for lemon chiffon cake, was now the man who stood before you.

“Why do you seek me?” you ask, rushing to lock the door behind him.

“You do remember me, right?” his voice was deep, yet anxious. “You knew my mother too.”

“Yes I do, Mingi.”

“Mom was killed by Ahriman’s soldiers.”

You were suddenly breathing thick air, your huffs becoming audible amidst the silence. “Verbena…” with your feeble utterance, Mingi removes his hat, revealing his fawn-colored locks, then he discards his long coat, hanging it over his forearm. He wore a black suit underneath, posh looking with silver motifs all over.

“I was called here by…” he avoids your eyes, looking for his next words within the cracks of the floorboards. “It was a voice in my dreams. I know it sounds crazy but—”

“Mingi, nothing will ever be crazy in our world.” you interrupt him, a soft chuckle leaving your lips as you speak.

“Right.” he clears his throat again. “The voice told me to go here. I know this used to be the town's favorite bakery, the voice was showing me that and told me to find the missing piece.”

Your eyes dilate, realizing he might be sent by Ahriman to steal the last piece of the diamond. “Mingi, who do you bow to?”

“Me? I-I bow to the Keepers.” he stutters, and you took a minute for yourself to grasp the tone of his voice and his mannerisms.

“The truth, Mingi.”

“I am telling the truth, sorceress.”

You find it pleasurable for him to refer to you as sorceress, you figured perhaps he must know you were a Keeper yourself. If you had your magic, it would be easy for you to tell whether he was being honest. But now you have to rely on your mortal instincts.

“Then, what is the missing piece?”

His eyes wandered around again for mere seconds before he sighed, “I don’t know for sure. My dream was quite discreet with the details.” he utters, eyes finding yours.

You watch as his gaze falls all over your features, examining your very stature. He motions as if he was about to say something, but then he hesitates and decides to not do so anyway. You walk closer to him, taking the coat off his forearm.

“Follow me.” you say as you walk to the back of your shop, into your room.

You could hear his heavy footsteps against the wood floor, creaking slightly. When you got inside, you realized you had forgotten to turn off the lights at the main area of the shop, “Sit down and settle yourself. I’ll be right back.” you placed his folded coat on your bed before you went and closed the lights.

It only took you a minute or two, but when you came back, Mingi was standing next to your workbench, where you had laid the diamond.

“Don’t touch that!” you kept your voice quiet, avoiding creating any noises that would draw in soldiers or punishers.

“I’m sorry.” he utters, dropping the wand in his hand that he used to poke the shard.

You walk over to him, picking up the wand. You were an inch apart as you stood from lowering yourself to the ground. You prod the end of the wand on his chest as a threat.

“I apologize, sorceress. I’ll keep my hands to myself.” his soft utterance made you gulp, for how matter how mellow he had intended for it to be, his voice was still deep, like Cordelia’s oceans.

“Sit down. Anywhere’s fine.” your back was already facing him when you spoke.

You heard your lounge chair squeak a tad, then silence followed after. You walk back to your workbench where you’ve laid out books and old scrolls, a few wands from the wizards that were executed by the Fountain of Tears, and a stack of papers —a map standing out amongst all of them. It’s a roamer’s map. You’ve met a wayfinder in one of your expeditions before. He was of tall stature, alike Mingi —but unlike the shadow dressed man, Yunho wore white and a cloak that could conceal anything beneath its material. He gave you this map just because it “felt necessary”. The roamers map shows everything within its area of perimeters —it takes up about the size of a country— and moving sites will change the map’s scope.

“Sorceress, can I ask you something?”

Your head averted from the map, snapping up at him. “Surely. Ask away.”

He nods, once again looking away like he’s forgotten his question. Though, it wouldn’t take him a while until he asked you, “You aren’t a mortal, are you?” you nod to his question, and he nods along. “You look exactly the same as when I was a kid.”

“Mingi, i’m…” you thought for a minute, thinking back to Verbena. Such a kind-hearted and honest witch. She’s raised Mingi all her life. You figured, you should trust him like how you did with his mother. “I’m Celeste.”

His reaction was calmer than what you had anticipated, he’d reveal just why quite soon. “So, that’s why you look like the portrait of Celeste in mom’s room.” he looks right into your eyes. “Why weren’t you with the other Keepers?”

“My magic is long gone, Mingi. Leaving the life of a Keeper means leaving the power granted to you too. I’m as equipped as any witch out there.” he nods at your words. You pick up the diamond shard on your workbench, holding it up for him to see. “This is the missing piece —of the White Diamond.”

He stared wide-eyed at the shard, taking in the way it shone softly in your fingers. “I— it’s real?”

“And the folktale about the mystic society being born out of the White Diamond is real, it’s our story.”

He stood up from his seat, still inspecting the shining diamond. “And it is you, Celeste, who shattered the diamond?” you breathed in, getting yourself seated at the edge of your bed. “When I was a kid, my mom would always tell me that Celeste had such a warm heart, and that she loved the mortals —you were all those things in our town’s folktales.”

You look away for a brief moment, wearing a soft smile as you reminisce about the kind of boy Mingi was. He shouldn’t be that different as a man —you think to yourself before bringing your gaze back to him. “Yes. I was all that —I believed all life on Earth deserved to be blessed with magic. Magic —it allows for one to truly understand the nature of the world.”

The corners of Mingi’s lips would rise. Then, he slid his hand beneath his suit at the area of his chest. He pulled out a red stone that hung from his neck, an amulet —and a familiar one at that. “My mom told me that my dad left this for her when he died but, I still don’t know what its purpose is.” his hands moved the back of his neck, reaching for the lock of the necklace.

He struggled for a while, and so you stood up and walked over behind him. He was startled to a fleet, but once he felt your hands undoing his necklace, he eased himself. You remove it from his neck once the lock is undone. You brought it closer to your vision, its back resting on your palm as your thumb brushed over the stone. It shone brighter as your skin glided on its surface, like the shard, only that this stone is red and slightly orange in the core. From the way it behaved in your hand, you could tell the stone was not in its purest form and was manipulated by sorcery, a spell of some kind.

“And your mother never mentioned anything else about it?” the stone remained in your hand, twinkling and glowing with every swipe.

“She said it’s for our protection. From Belial.”

“I see. It’s blessed with a spirit ward.”

The necklace would revert around Mingi’s neck, along with the warmth of your hand that sent currents throughout his body. He spent his whole life fantasizing about the tale of the Keeper, picturing himself as a Keeper, protecting and creating life, serving the people for the greater good. He was raised by a witch that honored the Keepers with her whole life, having been a close ally to one. Verbena was a witch rescued from Belial’s minions by Keeper Zephyr, and would serve great help with protecting the wizards and witches by keeping them in refuge. Mingi was born after the war with Belial, and it was also when you gave up being a Keeper. Verbena owed you her life, because it was from you that she learned how to brew potions of any nature, use any spells with ease, create talismans, and most of all, you entrusted her with your manor —and what used to be the Keepers’ headquarters. Ever since the war with Belial, the Keepers had agreed to guard the different bodies of the world. The oceans, the sky, the animals and the plants, and the people. Since then, the manor was unoccupied, and there would be no other wizard or witch worthy of your credence but Verbena. Mingi has heard all the great things about you, feeling almost as if he was undeserving to be in your premises, let alone your presence. His eyes never leave you as you move from behind him, back to where you sat.

“When I found the White Diamond, it came with… a prophecy.” you avert your eyes from his, setting your gaze on the tiny slit of your window that displayed half of the moon. “It was about Ahriman, though we'd never known it back then. But it also told me that there would be a hero to come.” you look back at him, right into his silver irises.

Mingi whose young eyes you’ve met, and now he’s returned to seek for you, wearing clothes that made him one with the night —he wore the darkness. And maybe, his heart truly is the yielder of the White Diamond.

“What’s taking him so long?” he questioned, like how he would when you could still lay a hand on top of his head.

You laughed. He would turn out to be a bit bewildered, but he’d smile, huffing out once but never laughing wholly. “Maybe he’s already here.” you chuckled when he shrugged, finding his actions adorable. “Then, Mingi, you must assist me. Your dreams brought you here for a reason.”

“Right, sorceress. I will do as I am told.”

You walked back to your workbench, urging him to come along with the tilt of your head. He towered over your figure, looking down at the variety of articles, looking down at you. Then, you were the one who had to kneel to meet his eyes, but now your head leaned backwards, looking up at him as you shared your plans. You would share your failures as well, and the hurdle of being unable to restore your powers, not knowing how it was even possible.

“Perhaps an incantation or spell would work?” Mingi’s overt suggestion only evoked a sigh from you.

“Believe me, I’ve tried everything. I won’t be able to regain my magic without any of the other Keepers. But we won’t be able to escape and meet any Keepers without that magic either.”

“Let’s visit the well. Maybe I might be able to help.”

“Really?”

“Really, sorceress. I wish for you to allow me to at least try. I promise none of us will get hurt.”

You spent the night with him, preparing for your little endeavor. You remember spending a whole night’s sleep by the well, crying to the Gods. It mustn’t be that difficult, yet you had no idea of how you’d be able to return to your Keeper-self. It only added to the weight of your sorrows, already a heavy load from the destruction of the mystic society and the loss of thousands of wizards and witches. When the people need you the most is when you’re unable to grant the aegis you had promised them.

The sun had just woken up when you and Mingi had set out to head to the Keeper’s well. You were both equipped with just enough in case of a mishap —bringing the shard along with you. You took the liberty of exiting from the back of your shop that led to a deserted alleyway. There were still a few eyes roaming around the area, but not very threatful ones. Reaching a more populous area, you stick close to Mingi, your hand holding on to the sleeve of his coat.

“Take my arm.” he says, and you would do just that, entangling your arm around his.

At a sudden instance, an Ahriman soldier catches your attention from the corner of your eye. If you weren’t so vigilant, you wouldn’t have caught up on the way he looked at the pair of you.

“Ahriman’s soldiers roam this area. You really should’ve left the coat.” you whisper to your company.

And he whispers back, “Oh, I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“It’s my trademark.”

“Tradema—” your query was cut off by a loud and excruciating bang, and a small fire building up at the little shack you and Mingi stood by.

“Sorceress, this is where we run.” he takes your hand in his, pulling you along with him, but you would only reach a meter before one of the soldiers came lunging at you.

Mingi was quick to react, drawing his blade from its sheath. His forearm catches the man by his chest, his blade moving to a speed the mortal eyes could never follow. A heap of blood escapes the soldier’s mouth as Mingi penetrates his abdomen. Another soldier came to strike, but this time you took care of it, ducking and booting his calf making him lay flat on his back on the ground. That’s when you whipped out your wand, casting a spell on him that made his mouth foam. Three other men would come running your way, and Mingi would rush in front of you to shield you from them. He takes one man by the arm, and it fascinated you. The man’s arm was out of reach, but it would seem as though a mass of wind blew the man to Mingi’s reach. And he was moving at a speed of no wizard. He kills off three men with little trouble, and when he turns to you, you have your eyes laid on him whilst also having a man's throat in your hand and you’d strike the man with the same spell you used earlier.

“Let’s take a run, shall we?”

“After you, sorceress.”

Just before the other soldiers came, you two had already disappeared from the site, running off to the mystic woodlands. Reaching the Keeper’s well meant following a maze-like path, or else, you won’t be able to go through the barrier that conceals it. It was an enchantment of protection by Keeper Fauna.

“That’s awesome.” was all that Mingi could utter once explaining to him how to get to the well.

You had the map in your hands. Yunho had marked the pathway you were to take, a thought for a thought, he knew you’d need it eventually, but he only took that extra step because you’re his favorite Keeper.

“You have to stick close, we can’t stray away from this path, not even a single step.”

“And the animals?”

“You won’t have to worry.” your eyes find his own, looking up at him the same way you did back in your room. “They know how to sort rotten souls from good ones.”

Mingi nods, taking a breath of the heated air. He takes off his coat, feeling the warm morning all over his body as sweat builds up all over him. A Keeper’s eyes are reserved —you repeat to yourself, but you’d be watching him through your peripheral as he wiped the sweat off his forehead with the clean side of his coat’s sleeve, then he removed his gloves, wiping his palm and the back of his hand on the sleeve.

“Won’t you remove your cloak? it’s getting real hot.”

You profusely shake your head, “I’ll be fine.”

He gives you a small smile for a brief moment before his eyes leave you. He started wiping the sweat on his neck, throwing his head back to wipe thoroughly. You felt a little silly just standing there, so you went and got yourself seated on an outcrop —a large rock. You could feel his eyes pinned on your figure as you moved yourself. Your back was facing him, allowing for you to have room to finally realize how hot it actually was. So with a sigh, you unfasten your cloak, allowing for it to fall down, leveled with your waist. The fabric hung onto the back of your elbow, your collar bone and bare arms now exposed. From the back, Mingi could only stare. Your top was cropped just above your waist, and the rest was covered with black, translucent silk, but maybe too translucent. You feel Mingi’s presence next to you. He sat in the opposite direction, but was right next to you. His bottom was aligned with where your knees rest, so he could see all of you, now from the front. You tilt your head at him, and he’d do the same, raising his brows. You shake your head, suppressing a giggle. Somehow, he captures your eyes. The silver shine in them was pure allure to you. It was like refined dark magic, lulling you, putting your surroundings to a stop, yet it was so beautiful. You feel a soft breeze against your face, softly drawing your hair back. You shy away from his gaze because of the sudden motion of nature. When you look back at him, your smile drops.

“Mingi…” his irises glowed a different color, and it went back to silver when the breeze had gone away. “You are not a mortal, are you?”

With a slight shrug, he tells you, “I’m not sure honestly. I know I have abilities mortals normally wouldn’t have, but I only know my mother. I have no idea where my powers hail from —quite possibly from my father, but I don't know him either.”

He shoves his folded gloves on to his pocket, and you’d see a few scars all over his hand, some worse than others.

“How about you, Keeper Celeste?” you blink once, you were never used to being called that name. You’ve been Y/n for so many years. You hum back to him to question what he was asking you for, so he’d add, “Where the Keepers from?”

You wore a bitter smile, eyes wandering on the grimy ground. “I know the folktales told people that we fell from the sky, and it’s true —in some way. We were created by the Gods. They were giants that lived in the heavens. The Keepers were molded by… they never told us what, but that was how we were made. We were sent down when we were a decade old, to protect Earth.” you could feel the tears from the back of your eyes, so you’d close them for a brief moment. “We were children. I was a child too before I was a woman. But I never knew what being a child meant. Even if we were small, we were at our most powerful state of being. Our powers were fresh, and so were our minds. Nothing could manipulate us because our faith was with the Gods. That was until we lived a century. We realized that the Gods are sloth personified. They create beings to do everything for them, and they would do it just so they wouldn’t get blamed when the world turns to ash. They live through the faith of people. Once people stopped believing in them, they’d shrink into useless mortals. They’re just as selfish as demons.”

Mingi kept himself quiet, basking in the way your voice harmonized with the sounds of the woodlands. His eyes urged you to keep talking as they softened.

“That’s why I chose to live within the mortals and gave up being a Keeper. There was no way for me to die —other than cutting through my throat or stabbing into my heart— but I could give up the power. So I did that. My immortality is my curse, and I coped with baking, you know the rest of the story.”

“You’re a great baker.”

“I know. You loved my sweets.”

“Believe me, I still do.”

You laughed amongst yourselves, thinking back to the good old times. No war, no extreme offenses, no conflicts. Just a life of bliss and magic. “I didn’t miss being a Keeper, well, not until now.” Mingi had his bottom lip in between his teeth, marveling at your features.

“Sorry, but, I can’t help but ask —how old are you?” you chuckle softly at his query.

“Almost ten thousand years. I stopped counting when I hit six thousand. It’s too many numbers.” a laugh went past your lips seeing his mouth agape at the revelation.

“And I look older than you?” his little quip only had you dispensing another guffaw.

Getting yourself composed, you reply to him, “Well, if I counted correctly, you’re about the age of thirty, am I right?”

“Spot on.”

“You look twenty-one and thirty at the same time.”

“Hearing that from you, I'm thinking maybe I might actually be immortal.”

He looked up to the sky, once again exposing the skin of his neck. The closeness allowed for you to see how spotless his skin was despite being a kind of vigilante, which proved to be a lot of work. He seemed to already be known to Ahriman and his soldiers, claiming his black coat is his trademark. “We can’t say for sure. You must last a century before claiming yourself immortal.”

“I will last a century. I promised my mom I will protect—” he stops himself, huffing briefly before he speaks again. “—the Keepers.”

“You did?” he nods at your little question. “You were such an ambitious child.”

“Still am.”

“Ambitious, or a child?”

“Can it be both?” his shoulders rose to a shrug, making you titter for the nth time.

You were soon headed to the well, wasting no time to stop for anything. This path was truly one for wonders as it concealed the both of you from the rest of the world, all except the creatures of the mystic woodlands. Mingi kept himself close by walking right behind you, though he thought it would be better if he was beside you instead —he just couldn’t risk it. Soon, his hand would find itself on your shoulder as you walked through the trees, tracing each of your steps with his own. It was quite the trek but relief would wash away your exhaustion once you spotted a tiny cluster of wisps. They ward off any uninvited guests, and Mingi —despite looking intimidating— was welcomed by the gentle spirits.

“Wisps?” his low voice chuckled against the little kisses the wisps gave him.

“They’re very dear.” you mumble as more wisps came to you, playing with your hair and placing soft touches on your cheeks.

Mingi’s eyes glistened with the glow of the wisps, and he watched as one hovered on your palm. You bring it close to your face, eventually giving it a sweet kiss.

“I wish I was a wisp.” you hum in question of his utterance.

“Wisps are spirits that were taken for granted. Powerful, but was subjected to the consequences of life, suffering death before their spirits were able to spread love and wisdom in the world. They’re nice, but I'm pretty sure they’d prefer to be like us, you know, living.” he understood pretty easily, a little disappointed, but quite amused that you didn’t get the hint with what he said. “I love them.”

You relaxed the muscles of your hand, raising it up a tad and letting the wisp fly off to its friends. Ahead of you, finally, is the Keeper’s well. Your curiosity was at its peak when you remembered Mingi said he wanted to help, to try at least.

You walk over to the well, your hope dwindling with every step. The wisps had consoled you through all instances of you breaking down over numerous feeble attempts of procuring your magic. This time you hoped, that the presence of Mingi would change the course of this venture you’ve gone on for decades now with no success.

Once your toes were only an inch away from the well’s body, you stopped, looking into the well, it was a ritual for you. Maybe your powers would peek back at you.

“Are you alright?” Mingi’s voice sounded of worry, now with both hands resting on your shoulders.

You breath in the cool air of your surroundings, magic dust floating away from within the well with a soft inviting glow. “Lead the way, Mingi.”

You saw the movement in his throat as he gulped, making his way around the well and standing across from where you had anchored yourself. His blade leaves its sheath again. Your eyes were glued onto the alloy that shimmered with the illumination emitted by the wisps and the well itself. He holds it over the opening of the well, and his amulet —it hangs onto the quillon of the blade. “I wanted to test out something I’ve read out of the books, or maybe, this is just some stupid idea I came up with.” he mumbles the last part, but you were able to read his lips. Still, you trusted him.

He closes his eyes, and he chants. From what you understood, it was an incantation, typically used in the area of fishery. Sounds odd for Mingi to be using such a spell, but you just stood there and allowed for him to work his magic.

His grip on the blade loosened, and by every finger he detached from the grip, the blade got heavier, and heavier, until it fell. You heard the strong gust of wind as it continued to fall.

“I wonder what the Gods are saying about this war.” it had been a while since the blade was dropped into the well.

Your anticipation had diminished completely. “Mingi, let’s just go.”

“I do hope they recognized the Keepers’ sacrifices.”

Tears threatened to fall from your eyes. “Mingi, we have to go before we get ambushed—”

“But then again, the Gods are none of our concern—”

“Mingi!” there was a slight crack in your voice, speaking as you fought the urge to break down again. “We must leave this place, now.”

“But I'm not done yet, Celeste.”

“Do not call me by that name, Celeste will never come back.” the tears swelled in your eyes, and you’d swallow your misery to deter from crying. “It’s impossible, Mingi.” your firm voice softens to one that is gloomy and reflects your despair.

With every step Mingi took closer to you, you’d only come close to breaking into a weep completely. A tear would trickle down to your jaw when he takes hold of your hands and makes you turn to the side to face him. You lower your head as the tears pour themselves out of you, you were breathing with a stutter. Mingi’s hand that was further from the well moves from your hand to your shoulder. Soon, you were laying the side of your head on his chest, the hand on your shoulder shifting to the back of your head whilst the other was entwined with yours. You felt Mingi’s heart thumping loudly in his chest, then he takes a deep breath and releases your hands at the side where the well was next to you both. His free hand hovers over the well’s opening. He was chanting again, but it was one you could not recognize even if you were hearing it right in your ear. You move away from Mingi’s body, watching his eyes change color like before. From silver to gold. The golden shine of his eyes reminded you of a pair that was very dear to you.

“Zephyr…” you utter to yourself, but only you would be able to hear.

Mingi was fully focused on his work, and you would hear that strong gust of wind again, now growing louder instead of the other way. Mingi stops his incantation, and looks into your eyes.

“Say it with me, Díno tin písti mou stous anémous tis aioniótitas.”

Zephyr’s language. “Díno tin písti mou stous anémous tis aioniótitas.” and your faith was with Mingi.

“Catch the blade Y/n.”

You hear the wind yelling, and it was getting louder. With a foot on the rim of the well and a hand over the well’s mouth, you were able to grab the blade by its grip as it came flying out. Mingi’s amulet blazed an angry red, and so did the well. He led you back to him by grabbing ahold of your free hand. You still held the blade the same way you had caught it from the well.

“Now hold the stone. Chant it again and close your eyes.”

Mingi frees your other hand so you could touch the amulet. You enclosed it in a tight grasp as you closed your eyes, and with the wholeness of your soul, you chanted, “Díno tin písti mou stous anémous tis aioniótitas.”

You lose your breath for a moment as the stone sparked in your hand. A strong flash of light struck your vision. It was like the whole world went back to being a small ball of light within the emptiness of space. The Gods have created such a beautiful world, but it was all for show. They act with no care, the care they had was for their vanity only. Then you were back to the moment you were molded from fine clay and the flesh of man, back to the very moment your power was bestowed to you.

“You serve the good, and only the good, and you will work to neutralize the evils from the very depths of hell, and you are never to betray your fellow Keepers, you shall love, but never turn against each other.”

You look around, seeing the younger selves of the other Keepers. And then there was Zephyr whose eyes glimmered with the gold the Gods would flaunt to each other and their servants. He was far, yet his voice spoke to you, loud and clear. He tells you, “Guide my son Celeste. He is the true Keeper of the winds and time itself. Believe in him, Celeste.”

Everything disappears, turning into dust. Zephyr’s words echoed in your mind and the image of his eyes never left your head.

“Celeste…” it was clear to you now. “I’m here… can you hear me?” Zephyr fell in love with Verbena, and their love bore a child. Mingi truly is immortal.

“Y/n!” you woke up, gasping from the shock of being awoken from such a profound dream.

You’d be even more shocked to find yourself on the ground with Mingi, him holding you closely in his arms. Mingi sets his hand on your jaw to hold it, gently guiding your head towards him so he could see you. You were in your true form. Before him was an image, surreal and captivating, enchanting him with the way your skin warmed up his cold hands. The night was cold, but you were as warm as day. And you felt like you were reborn. You meet his eyes, and he sees the entirety of the universe in your gaze —the planets and constellations he only read about in books.

“You’re beyond the beauty the tales make you out to be.” you hear the utterance in his mind. He seemed to have forgotten that you could read minds. “I’m so lucky.” you chuckled at his buoyant thoughts that just kept running. You wanted to confirm Zephyr’s message, and so you’d dig deep into his psyche. His whole upbringing flowed throughout every facet of your memory. And it revealed more than what you had intended to know.

You still held the stone in your hand, and you and Mingi’s surprise, the stone was no longer red. It had turned colorless, much like the shard you had with you.

“Mingi, this amulet, it’s a piece of the diamond.” Mingi loosens his embrace, allowing for you to sit up.

“Yeah, I see.” you examine Mingi’s face. His brows were furrowed, indicating that he was utterly clueless.

“It’s Zephyr’s shard, Mingi.” he looks back at you, with not much change in his expression. You hold back a smile. You speak to him with your mind to tell him, “Keeper Zephyr is your father.” his eyes grew wide and his hand clenched the skin of your bare arm.

“Really?”

“Really! he told me himself, when I was in a trance earlier.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to get ahead of myself.” you communicated solely with the voice of your minds, then you would hear his velvet voice again, “I read about the Keepers all the time as a child, and even now. It stunned me how similar my powers are to Zephyr, but I thought maybe it was just a coincidence, and that there were others like me.”

Your hand finds its way on his cheek, your soft fingers gliding against his skin as your hand goes up to fix his hair. “There’s only one Keeper of the winds and time, Mingi.”

He wore the same expression of astonishment as before. “Me?”

“Yes, you’re a Keeper.”

“So I am immortal after all.” you hear his thoughts again, making you giggle.

“Yes Mingi, you’re immortal.”

He just stared at you, right into your eyes. For a short while, his thoughts were empty, just basking in your warmth and ethereal presence. You were a being of high power that everyone else believed were only true in folktales. But Mingi’s faith was with you from the beginning, and now your faith lies with him.

“Is it bad that I want to kiss you?” you flick your tongue over your top lip, a smile forming on your plush lips as you watch his eyes linger on them.

This was the moment you admit to having been enamored by him, right from the night you spent with him even if you had done nothing but administer your plan and prepare yourselves. His flawlessly structured face, his tall stature, his voice, his willingness to protect you —you had gone long without a lover, and maybe now’s the time.

“Kiss me.”

He was careful, and a lot gentler for the size of him. He was bewitched with the feeling of your lips against his. He kept repeating in his mind, “I hope this isn't a dream.” as he continued to kiss you, making you chuckle against his lips for a short while —a very short while as he chased the sensation of having his lips, and his tongue against yours.

“Mingi.” you spoke to him with your mind, not being able to escape the feeling he’s ensnared you in. “We have to get going.” he keeps going for a few more lengthy seconds. He pulled away, leaving the two of you hot-faced and panting. You were both still lost and enthralled in each other’s eyes, then you’d talk to him, this time, with your voice audible. “Seriously now, we must go.” your mellow voice made his eyelids drop once, and he’d plant another soft kiss on your lips before pulling the both of you off the ground.

“Can you stab me? just so I could be sure this isn't a dream or some sort of hallucination.” you titter at his words, the palm of your gentle hand playfully hitting his chest.

“It’s real!”

Suddenly, his hands were all up in your hair. “Look, your hair, it changed color.”

You watch with awe as he moves strands of your hair around. “It’s my true form, Mingi.”

“It’s a crazy form —driving me crazy, that is.”

After a shared guffaw, you were back on track. Now with your magic restored, it would be easier for you and Mingi to move onto the arduous steps of your journey. You had a long way ahead of you, and a new Keeper by your side. He wasn’t one that was molded by the Gods and put through rigorous training by being thrown into a dragon’s cage, but he was one with a pure heart, and it set him apart from the rest of the Keepers. He understood human nature to its core with the blood of a mortal coursing through him. And he wasn’t one to give up, because you found out that it took him thirteen years to configure his magic and be able to use it without losing control. And unlike Ahriman, he wasn’t a vengeful soul. He only wished that there’s a future for the mystic society, for the world. And he would keep saving it, just so the people of the future won’t suffer the same fate as him and many others, mortal and immortal alike.

“And he saved a Keeper’s soul…”

not proofread, not planning on doing so either so :D

#ateez #ateez au #ateez mingi #song mingi #ateez angst #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fic

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chaifootsteps · 2 months

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Wanted to pop-in with a little correction about Lucifer wanting to usurp God, being prideful, temping Adam and Eve, falling, the works.

Biblically speaking, that's actually conflating 3 separate characters who not only aren't even the same entity, none of them are the same species.

Lucifer was not a fallen angel, but rather a human. An incredibly prideful human who saw himself as above others and at the level of the heavens (as many kings and pharaohs did in those days, seeing themselves as manifestations of the divine), but a human nonetheless. The king of Babylon, to be precise. Remember that point in The Prince of Egypt where Rameses says "I am the morning and the evening star, if I say day will be night it shall be written"? Same basic idea. Pharaohs and kings in those days saw themselves as commanding a divine right over others. Lucifer was just a particularly cruel one who didn't treat his people with respect.

From Isaiah 14, verses 3 through 20:

3 On the day the Lord gives you relief from your suffering and turmoil and from the harsh labor forced on you, 4 you will take up this taunt against the king of Babylon: How the oppressor has come to an end! How his fury has ended! 5 The Lord has broken the rod of the wicked, the scepter of the rulers, 6 which in anger struck down peoples with unceasing blows, and in fury subdued nations with relentless aggression. 7 All the lands are at rest and at peace; they break into singing. 8 Even the junipers and the cedars of Lebanon gloat over you and say, “Now that you have been laid low, no one comes to cut us down.” 9 The realm of the dead below is all astir to meet you at your coming; it rouses the spirits of the departed to greet you— all those who were leaders in the world; it makes them rise from their thrones— all those who were kings over the nations. 10 They will all respond, they will say to you, “You also have become weak, as we are; you have become like us.” 11 All your pomp has been brought down to the grave, along with the noise of your harps; maggots are spread out beneath you and worms cover you. 12 How you have fallen from heaven, morning star, son of the dawn! You have been cast down to the earth, you who once laid low the nations! 13 You said in your heart, “I will ascend to the heavens; I will raise my throne above the stars of God; I will sit enthroned on the mount of assembly, on the utmost heights of Mount Zaphon. 14 I will ascend above the tops of the clouds; I will make myself like the Most High.”(edited)

15 But you are brought down to the realm of the dead, to the depths of the pit. 16 Those who see you stare at you, they ponder your fate: “Is this the man who shook the earth and made kingdoms tremble, 17 the man who made the world a wilderness, who overthrew its cities and would not let his captives go home?” 18 All the kings of the nations lie in state, each in his own tomb. 19 But you are cast out of your tomb like a rejected branch; you are covered with the slain, with those pierced by the sword, those who descend to the stones of the pit. Like a corpse trampled underfoot, 20 you will not join them in burial, for you have destroyed your land and killed your people.

The metaphor of a “star” is used in referring prophetically to the Davidic kings of Judah (Nu 24:17), and if you look into Bible history, the Babylonian dynasty for a time did rise above these Judean kings by conquest of Jerusalem. A similar prophecy in Daniel chapter 8 describes the small “horn” of some future power as trampling down certain stars of “the army of the heavens” and moving against the Prince of the army and his sanctuary (Da 8:9-13)". So human kings being seen as stars was a rather common metaphor.

Satan was an angel who was God's prosecuting attorney in Job, who fell from Heaven in the New Testament for unknown reasons, likely because by the New Testament God was getting out of his "I control all good and evil and demand you slaughter these nonbelievers to show my power" phase, so there needed to be another to be the new evil with God being seen as all good. And when Satan did fall, he was cast down to Earth, not Hell. He wasn't cast down to Hell until Revelation (by which point centuries from Genesis Satan and the serpent were seen as the same by that time), but Revelation was just an acid-trip of a metaphor for Christian persecution under the Roman Empire anyway.

And the serpent? In Genesis it was just a crafty serpent who was described as being "the craftiest out of all the beasts of the field the Lord God had made". And it was declared in the Genesis story as being cursed to slither on the ground, likely as a way of explaining why snakes slither and have vestigial legs.

There's plenty of interesting things you could do with Lucifer, Satan, and the serpent. Make them all the same guy. Make them all different. Make Lucifer Satan's jealous rival who wants to usurp him in Hell and has the serpent as a talking animal sidekick. There's a lot you can do with it.

But Lucifer should be prideful. Whether you go with him being a human, an angel, the devil, something, his pride his always consistent. Or should be. You'd think it would be in Viv's universe, since he's the King of the Pride Ring.

Except he's just... not. So why did Viv even make him the King of Pride in the first place if he doesn't have a prideful bone in his body. He's more like P. T. Barnum in The Greatest Showman than anything else.

Man, I'm as agnostic as they come but Biblical lore is nuts. So many opportunities and Viv ran with approximately none of them.

#Anonymous #hazbin hotel critical #viv stuff #actual blog post

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katy-l1988 · 4 months

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Chapter 1: The Holly Trinity

Hazbin Hotel Fanfic

In the dawn of the cosmos, the firmament shimmered with the light of divine beings who dwelled in the heavens, their boredom with the monotony of their existence triggering the creation and expansion of the universe as we now know it. Among the heights stood three angels, Sera, Carmilla, and Lucifer, christened by their father as the "Holy Trinity." The three played vital roles, ensuring the proper functioning of both heaven and the universe they were forging.

Sera, with her celestial majesty, was God's first attempt at creating woman. Tall, slender, with eyes capable of reflecting the vastness of the universe, she was a work of art in herself. However, despite her impeccable appearance, she wasn't quite what God was looking for. Sera lacked the capacity to understand and share joys and sorrows, empathy, to be a companion in all aspects of existence. Sera was too distant, too perfect, to fulfill God's purpose. With great sadness, but also with much love, the Father of All decided to appoint her as his delegate, giving her a different purpose than she was originally intended for. She would make his wishes come true, also reducing the workload on her shoulders.

On the fifth day of creation, after bringing life to the creatures of the animal kingdom in the morning, God retired to his workshop with a handful of swan feathers, the eyes of a lynx, and the heart of a lioness. With infinite patience and meticulous dedication, he began assembling these elements one by one, shaping them with his divine power to form a new creation: Carmilla. This angel emerged as a unique and exceptional creation in her own essence. Although she shared certain traits with Sera, she possessed a great capacity to love, and to hate at the same time. That's why he bestowed upon her the gift of creating life.

"Where art I?" she asked fearfully.

"This is my workshop, and thou art my creation," God replied, helping her to her delicate feet. "Thou canst call me Father."

"Father?" The angel observed her wings flutter, analyzed her silver hair, and saw her fingers move in front of her eyes. "What am I exactly?"

"Thou art an angel, my dear. Thou art my vineyard, my garden, my Carmilla." He then helped her walk, fascinated by her elegance. "Come, I want to introduce thee to someone."

God, captivated by what he had created and not wanting to part from her, placed Carmilla alongside Sera to be her support. However, mere hours later, the difference between Sera's serenity and Carmilla's burning passion triggered a latent conflict between them. One, believing herself superior just for being older, wanted to impose her will, while the second was unwilling to obey without a true reason. God chose not to punish them and took another route, deciding to give birth to a new angel, one whose beauty and power would rival even the heavens themselves: Lucifer. He was a free-spirited and dreamy spirit, destined to maintain peace among his sisters, though not among the other angels. While there were those who admired him fervently, like Araziel, there were others who despised him, such as Michael.

God, calm to see that the most important work was done, delegated to Sera and the elders of heaven the task of finishing his great project. With the very dust of the earth, the Elders of Heaven created Adam and Lilith, based on the sketches provided by the King. These new beings, meticulously crafted with love, were presented as the supreme culmination of creation. Adam, molded in the image and likeness of the gods, was imbued with wisdom and strength, while Lilith, equally magnificent, possessed beauty and unparalleled skill. All felt they had fulfilled the expectations of their Lord, but it wasn't long before Lilith decided not to submit to Adam and escaped from Eden. With indomitable determination, she defied the expectations imposed upon her and sought the freedom she fervently desired. Her act of rebellion shook the foundations of paradise and unleashed a conflict that would resonate throughout heaven and earth.

"Dad's design failed," Sera said as the three siblings gathered in the great hall weeks after the event. "She was supposed to stay with Adam. I don't understand."

"Adam is an idiot, who would want to be with him?" Carmilla opined honestly. "He hath no right to rule over her, no one should."

"I agree, Sera," Lucifer intervened with a understanding smile. "After all, love and free will are the foundations of our existence here in heaven."

"But not on earth, brother. Humans are too simple to know what to do with it, and that's why we've set rules," Sera said, looking at herself in the mirror, determined to do what she considered to be God's word. "Lucifer, go for Lilith and bring her back to Eden. She must fulfill her role as the mother of humanity."

"Sera, art thou sure that's the right thing to do?" Lucifer questioned with a doubtful expression on his face as he received the order from his older sister.

"'Tis necessary, or else Dad's dream will be shattered," Sera replied firmly, her voice resonating in the celestial hall.

It was at that precise moment when Lucifer descended into the underworld, finding in Lilith an echo of the passion and rebellion that he so admired in Carmilla. Fascinated by Lilith's freedom and determination, Lucifer was carried away by his feelings, becoming irretrievably attached to that woman of indomitable spirit. Sera, perceiving this as an act of impersonal irreverence, decided to take drastic measures. She took the sketch discarded by her father and created Eve, a figure that reflected her own serenity and obedience. Eve was the embodiment of everything Sera considered right and virtuous, destined to be the perfect counterpart to Lilith. She never imagined it would backfire.

United in their desire to share this emotion, Lucifer and Lilith sought to offer the fruit of knowledge to Adam's new wife, Eve, without understanding the consequences of their actions. In their attempt to open her eyes to the world beyond blind submission, they allowed evil to spread its roots on earth. Sera watched with consternation as events unfolded, as did the other celestial beings, and sent a group of angels to assess the damage. However, the rift proved to be too extensive, and there was no way to close it.

Faced with such a threat, Sera held a trial, which reached the consensus to eradicate those who caused so much chaos. Carmilla, overcome with anguish and desperation, stood in Miguel's way, seeking to stop the bloodshed among their own.

"Move, Carmilla," ordered Miguel.

"I won't. My father wouldn't want this."

"He doesn't deserve his mercy. He destroyed your father's work, our work!"

"Miguel, please. There must be another way to solve this, he's my brother." She thought for a moment, seeing the pain in Carmilla's eyes.

"Just because thou ask, I'll propose changing the punishment to something less severe." Carmilla sighed with relief. "But I warn thee, whatever the new order is, thou'll be responsible for carrying it out."

Miguel stepped back, leaving Carmilla with a lump in her throat. Lucifer, unaware of the crime he was accused of, continued with his life as if nothing had happened, but he felt the gaze of reproach from the other angels. He knew he had made a mistake, but he didn't know how to fix it.

Lucifer walked through the bustling streets of the celestial city, ignoring the murmurs and accusing glances that surrounded him. He knew everyone was aware of what he had done, and the weight of guilt and remorse accompanied him with every step. Finally, he arrived at the home he shared with his sisters, a refuge amidst the turmoil of heaven. Without a word, he made his way to his chamber and lay down on his bed, letting the silence envelop his troubled soul. Tears threatened to surface, but Lucifer forced himself to hold them back. He knew he had made irreparable mistakes, and now he had to face the consequences of his actions. In the stillness of his chamber, he was alone with his thoughts, grappling with his internal conflicts as he plunged into a sea of regret and anguish.

"Wait, Lilith," he thought then, a spark of concern crossing his tormented mind. He knew that whatever punishment he received, she would suffer it too. He couldn't allow his beloved to be harmed, no matter the cost. Quickly, Lucifer stood up, unwilling to waste another second, and sought out his closest friends, Araziel and Zestial, knowing he needed their support. Together, they gathered in the privacy of their home, ready to assess their options and chart a course of action.

Araziel, known for his rebellious spirit and his love for chaos, proposed the idea of recruiting disgruntled angels dissatisfied with the rigid celestial order, those who yearned for change and were willing to follow Lucifer in his quest for justice and freedom. Zestial, with his unwavering loyalty and serene wisdom, vehemently nodded in agreement, backing Araziel's proposal. Together, the three began to devise a plan to recruit followers, preparing to face whatever would come their way.

Several days of hard work and dedication passed, during which they managed to gain the support of a third of heaven, angels who shared their discontent with the established order and longed for radical change. However, someone crucial was still missing, someone whose endorsement was vital for the success of their cause. Lucifer fervently desired to have Carmilla by his side in this struggle, for despite everything, she had always been there for him. He knew the power of his sister and her influence over other angels; she was a commander, second only to Michael.

One afternoon, he approached Carmilla, hoping to convince her to join them in their crusade. However, upon presenting his proposal, he realized that things wouldn't be as easy as he had hoped. Carmilla, far from showing enthusiasm or support, looked at him with a mixture of sadness and determination in her eyes.

"Lucifer, I cannot do it," Carmilla whispered, her voice trembling, feeling the overwhelming weight of responsibility upon her. "If thou risest against heaven, I shall be obliged to face thee. I do not want that, brother, please, do not force me down that path."

"I thought no one gives thee orders. Why dost thou obey now?" Lucifer inquired.

"Because thou art not giving me choices," she replied, tears welling up, on the verge of collapse. "They shall send thee to hell, Lucifer. Thee, and Lilith, and if thou startest this senseless war, also thy friends."

"Then so be it, but I shall not be subdued without a fight."

The battle erupted in heaven once the rebellion began, with the sound of wings unfurling and the clash of swords resonating in the air. Lucifer led, alongside hundreds of angels who had joined his cause, defying the tyranny of Sera and the elders of heaven. On the other hand, Michael, the mightiest of the archangels, rose as the principal defender of the celestial order, supported by legions of faithful angels who fought ferociously, including Carmilla.

The confrontation between Lucifer and Michael was epic, a clash of titans that shook the universe. Both warriors faced each other with fierce determination, each blow and parry resonating with the intensity of a thousand thunders. Despite Lucifer's courage and skill, he was finally overcome by Michael's imposing strength and ability. In the midst of the chaos, Michael lunged at the dreamer with the intention of ending him once and for all, ignoring direct orders. Carmilla, witnessing this, stepped between the two with speed, and the clash of her lance against Michael's body was terrifying. The weapon pierced Michael's chest, and a gut-wrenching scream echoed in the heavens as he fell to the ground, fatally wounded. Quickly, Lucifer seized the lance, feeling the weight of responsibility and anger burning within him.

With a quick and decisive movement, Lucifer turned to Carmilla and said:

"Now 'tis my turn to protect thee." All witnesses blamed Lucifer for that crime.

"Forgive me for not being able to do more."

With Michael's death, Carmilla assumed the role of Commander-in-Chief of the army, and as her first task, she had to finish what Michael started. Out of pity, she sent all the rebels to hell, bidding farewell to her brother with a cold look, unable to show any other emotion. She knew that this was the only way to keep him safe; as long as she was in command of the army, no one would harm him.

#hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel carmilla #hazbin hotel sera #hazbin hotel zestial #zestial #hazbin spoilers #hazbin hotel #vizziepop #carmilla carmine #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer headcanons

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kamwashere · 10 months

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i can’t stop thinking about bildad the shuhite, actually.

can’t stop thinking about crowley, a demon at the dawn of the new world, never quite fitting into heaven and learning that he might not fit in hell either. the grief. slowly learning that no matter how much they scream themself raw asking for forgiveness, it would fall on deaf, absent ears. the loneliness. the painful learning curve she has to navigate that just because she’s a demon, doesn’t mean she has to do go along with what hell wants. the freedom. the not knowing what the fuck he’s doing. the constant dread of god’s plan for her supposedly beloved people, and him getting used to it. the relief that at least, at least they will never be on their side anymore. the loneliness. millions of fallen and yet not one of them has any lick of ingenuity. but then, he goes to earth and he falls a little more in love with it. the humans and their desire and hope and lust and love and hate and forgiveness. the angels used say that humans were made in god’s image, but they’re so much better. once or twice she meets the angel of the eastern gate again and she has this sneaking suspicion that maybe, just maybe he has questions, and doubts, and horrors, just like she had questions and doubts and horrors, too. then, one day, he meets job. the angel was there, too. he watches the angel indulge like a human, and lie like one. as they sit on the rock, he thinks to himself that maybe they can be alone together for a while.

#i just. love this episode so much.#aziracrow #ineffable husbands #crowley #bildad the shuhite #aziraphale #good omens #gomens #go #kamwashere

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inkymagpie · 2 years

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The Book Keeper Pt 1: The Dream is Crumbling

Summary: You are the daughter of Thoth, Egyptian God of knowledge and writing. Three centuries ago you were appointed to the head of the New Alexandria library; once thought burned in a great fire it now holds all of the knowledge that was ever written by man. But when books start to go missing, and even worse are found burned beyond repair you realize something sinister is occurring.

Pairing: Morpheus x f!reader

Chapter Rating: General

Overall Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Angst

Chapter Summary: Days went by, and then weeks and then months, Dream of the Endless did not return to the Dreaming; and you began to get more and more concerned letters from Lucienne. Her normal pristine penmanship becoming more scratchy, fear evident in her writing.

The Library of Alexandria…a pinnacle of knowledge, a testament to the wisdom that the Gods bestowed upon humans through their scholars, their muses; a bastion for all those that sought out the unknown, the lessons of both the Heavens and earth. A gift so generously given only to be squandered by human folly and greed.

Mortals can be such fickle creatures.

It is said that the Library burned to the ground over two thousand years ago; the casualty of humans and their need to conquer their need for power. Razed in a war brought on by an Emperor from a foreign land; and it was thought that the books that had burned and the knowledge that they contained was lost forever. And it was…at least to mortals.

As the fires spread and scholars wept, the Gods had predicted this and had delivered the scriptures from the mortal realm back to the kingdom of the Heavens. New Alexandria, a beckon of knowledge now reclaimed and protected by its benefactors; and its caretaker, Thoth, God of the Moon, of scriptures and writings.

For more than millennia and the better half of another Thoth watched over the Library; its corridors and sections ever growing and expanding as time went on…But then Thoth was gifted a child from his devoted wife Ma’at.

Most Gods were known to have many sons and daughters, who then in turn had sons and daughters of their own and so on and so forth, but you, you were the only daughter of Thoth…His only child.

He watched as you grew, taught you of his realm, the realms of others, of humankind; and of the ancient ever presence of the Endless. He taught you the gift that knowledge was, how it shaped both past, present and future. And he taught you the importance of protecting it, so that it might be forever preserved.

However despite his teaching you viewed the importance of knowledge somewhat differently from your father, and at times it brought about tension between the two of you.

You became a Goddess of curiosity, of inquisitiveness finding more in common with mortals than Thoth would care for you to have and you spent much of your time cavorting about on earth, partaking in human customs and curiosities. And with your inquisitiveness and witnessing of the tribulations that man faced you also became a creature of compassion.

Thoth supposed you must have gotten some of that from your mother, though you were definitely more of a handful than she. He deemed that it was high time that he appointed you to a station, and perhaps that would settle you down some.

Around the turn of the century of 1600 to 1700 he gifted you with one of the most important appointments of all: Head Librarian of the Library of New Alexandria. At first you had been disgruntled by the fact you would be spending most of your time in relative solitude, no longer able to have the freedom to galavant around in the mortal realm with such frequency. But as the first decade went by you realized how much you loved being the caretaker of the knowledge that spanned all the way to the dawn of man.

You had always loved to read, how could you not? But the books and scriptures that had always been read to you or presented for you to read had usually been about great events in history, famous ballads and sonnets; epic tales of trials and tragedy. But now as the curator you had access to every story, large and small and you found yourself more fascinated by the very human stories; like a friar that had lost his sandals in the river while washing them. Or a man in a dimly lit tavern that said that he would never die.

The day to day life of mortals was fascinating and they all were so different, no two were exactly alike and you find that to be just as interesting if not more than the rise and fall of an empire. It was just so…human.

During your first century as Librarian you got to see a great number of important visitors; some other Gods, ones that you knew since childhood. Others were fae folk and beings of various magical prowess. But the most interesting guest to grace the halls of New Alexandria was an Endless.

He had arrived with your father one morning and you had watched with great curiosity as your parent spoke in soft tones with him; your father had eventually beckoned you over and you obeyed eagerly.

You had never met an Endless, though you had read about them and of course heard tales. You observed him keenly, non too covertly which had caused your father to scold you for being rude. But the Endless had gazed upon you with a look of amusement, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. And when he spoke his voice was as warm and as rich as honey and just as soothing.

“So you are the keeper of the books.” He had asked.

“Y/n and yes I am,” you bow quickly, watching him still. “Who are you? What realm are you from?”

“I am the King of Dreams and Nightmares and as my title would suggest my realm is The Dreaming.” He replied with a subtle fondness.

“Are you here for knowledge? I have a strict return policy.” You reply puckishly.

Thoth gave you a pointed look, and tapped his quill on the lip of the parchment board in his grasp. Ah, another warning.

“I like to make sure that the books are cared for, looked after.” You corrected hoping to appease your father.

“More should follow that practice.” The Endless nodded his head sagely. “And in a way, yes I am here for knowledge.”

You cocked your head at this, curious.

“The Dreaming has a vast library of its own and I believe it would be beneficial to share that knowledge across them.” He said.

You had heard of the Library of the Dreaming, after all Gods were born in the Dreaming, originally stories themselves brought to life by humankind.

“Might I see it?” You had barely been able to contain your excitement, the idea of seeing the stories yet untold by all living things, what a treasure that would be to witness in person.

“Perhaps one day my child, when the time comes.” Thoth spoke and gave a small nod to the Dream Lord.

“A raven will be in contact with you.” The Endless continued before you had anytime to pout. “They will bring you news of the Dreamings collection as well as ferry desired literature.”

“I will allow you one of my Ibis to do the same Y/n, until your sacred animal manifests.” Your father added.

You had gazed at the ground somewhat ashamed; your sacred creature had still not come to fruition, your worship still young and growing had not yet bore you a beastial symbol.

“I will take my leave Thoth, God of the Moon and Scripts.” The Endless said before he turned to you. “Y/n”

You bristled at that, your station as a goddess was rather small this was true, but he seemed to disregard it entirely.

“And you Morpheus, Shaper of Forms, King of Dreams.” Thoth nodded.

And as the being called Morpheus began to disappear into a cloud of white gold sand his gaze landed on you again.

“I suspect Lucienne will be most interested in speaking with you.” He commented.

“Who is Lucienne?” You called out but he was already gone, sands disappearing into the ether.

You had blinked, thinking for a moment before crossing your arms with a huff.

“He seems a bit-“ your father quickly interrupted you with a look. “…lovely.” You gritted out instead; insufferable you’d rather say.

“This will be a great honor, a partnership with one of the Endless.” Your father turned to leave. “I have the utmost trust that you will face the task with diligence and logic.”

You had watched as your father left the Library, heading back out into his kingdom.

You of course were diligent about your work…but you couldn’t help but take great pause with logic…

____

The smell of weathered pages, bound in leather and pressed paper and permeates the air; a comforting, familiar scent that you had come to love since childhood. The golden light of sun cast through the stained glass windows, casting rivers of iridescent colors across the worn limestone floors of the vast library. When you were given the appointment of head librarian of New Alexandria, Ra had bestowed upon you a gift that while the Library was in your father’s domain of the Moon, a kingdom ever beneath the star sky of the cosmos, you would always have the light of sun grace the halls of your station.

You sigh happily, a thermos of hot tea with milk and sugar in your grasp; you had popped into your favorite tea shop in the mortal realm; you didn’t think your father would be too upset with just a little visit; and innocent one no less! They also made the most delightful breakfast foods there and you took another bite from the pastry you had purchased as well; whoever said the God’s dined on ambrosia had never had Welsh cakes.

You walk further into the expanse of the ever growing library, enjoying your morning treat as you wait for your tea to cool. You hear the flutter of wings and you watch as a kingfisher flies overhead chortling at you, a rolled up parchment paper in its grasp.

You had been expecting a list of possible Gods from Lucienne. While most were never more than dreams, some came to fruition and would be more than figments of imagination and become beings of history.

The kingfisher drops the scroll on your very messy (though you insisted it was organized chaos) desk and lands on a tall reedy piece of drift wood you had set up as a perch. Next to them stands a large ibis, ever watchful of the recent addition to the library.

It had been over two centuries now that the ibis your father had bestowed upon you had aided you in your task, now more of a sentinel, ever keen and observant. Your worshippers had finally bestowed upon you a sacred beast. And while not as prominent or as distinguished as perhaps your fathers ibis or Anubis’ jackal, the kingfisher was a delightful creature that many mortals associated with the freedom and curiosity you so possessed.

You trill gently to the bird and tap their beak affectionately as you come to your desk, it trills in return and ruffles their feathers. You bow to your father’s ibis who ducks their head to you and begins to walk out into the library having completed its duty of making sure you hadn’t gotten lost gallivanting across the realms.

You sit down and begin to unravel the parchment paper, the kingfisher preening themself as you start to read the list from Lucienne, ready to document everything for the Library records.

Being a relatively new Goddess yourself having only come about during the time of the printing press it was still strange to see the concept of potential additions to new and old pantheons. Mortals were always coming up with new concepts to believe in, to worship; some more prolific than others.

Not too long ago you had seen ideas for gods and goddesses of steam after the industrial revolution had spread across the globe. Now it was electricity with the invention of the light bulb (something that you heard Thor was a bit sour about).

You laugh as you read some of Lucienne’s little quips and notes in the margins of her list as you document the ideas formally to fresh pressed papers. It was something that you had both started to do; an entertaining thing to lighten the mood, that and your frequent book exchange you had started doing for the past hundred years. In fact you were almost done with the last book she sent over, perhaps you’d finish it up tonight and tell her about your thoughts in your next letter.

Shortly you come to the end of the list. It didn’t appear that any of the new potentials were manifesting yet past dreams, though you think that perhaps something might happen with the idea of electricity since mankind fancied it so.

You sort the notes and give the stack to the kingfisher to take to the record's section (which now had sprawled far beyond their initial wing of the library). As you hand the papers over, twine forms along the left edge of the papers binding them together, the date appearing at the bottom right of the first page's corner. You would set them in the proper records book later.

As the kingfisher takes off into the belly of the library, you quickly gather up the personal letter that Lucienne also included with the list. You always took great joy in reading about the happenings of the Dreaming. Gods did dream but they didn’t enter the kingdom unless invited, or so your father said. Lucienne had visited you far more times in your realm than you had ever visited her in her lords (which you could count the total on one of your hands, and on one of your fingers). And you hadn’t even seen the Dream King himself while you had attended.

You begin to read through Lucienne’s letter, smiling at the mentions of Mervyn and how he always managed to strike a nerve. You had decided long ago that you would very much like to meet him in person as he sounded like quite the character. You flip the page and continue to read.

You frown at the mention of something more sinister than usual. A rogue nightmare…while it was true that Luceinne had told you about how colorful and at times creepy the Shaper of Forms creations could be, she had always said that they remained in the Dreaming. But here she was saying that he was out in the world of men, preying upon them. You made a note to check the stories of life to see if you could find anything more about this creature and if he had affected the history of man.

You breathe a small sigh of relief when you read that the Dream Lord had left just this morning (or perhaps it was night? Hard to tell sometimes when dealing with the mortal realm) to deal with the matter. You are sure that with the quick intervention that the stories of men will not be too affected.

However you could sense some sort of apprehension in the words that Lucienne wrote. You grab a stack of fresh papers and a fountain pen and begin to write back to Lucienne, hoping to ease your friend's worries. Perhaps you would send back a book as well; a favorite of yours to give some comfort.

Surely it would all be fine…

Days went by, and then weeks and then months, Dream of the Endless did not return to the Dreaming; and you began to get more and more concerned letters from Lucienne. Her normal pristine penmanship becoming more scratchy, fear evident in her writing.

And you yourself began to fear as well…the mortal world was suffering, even the other Gods whispered of a sleeping sickness that plague mankind. Your father continued to bathe the night sky under the light of the moon, but there were no dreamers to be found in its beams.

The library was changing…the stories of mankind becoming something that you feel they never should have been. Countless books now filled with the same suffering; from the pages of a young girl that could no longer find sleep to the pages of a doctor overwhelmed and doing anything they could to find a cure… an answer.

But the thing that scared you most was the pages of those that didn’t wake up; day after day the papers remained blank. Thousands upon thousands of mortals' life stories filling with blank chapters.

Your father had told you that Destiny had a path and to not interfere; if this was the history that mankind must write then it must be written. You had been quite angry with him and whoever this Destiny was…cruelty like this was not something you could bear to see. It was then you also realized that if mankind was suffering then what horrible fate was the Lord of Dreams facing; what horrible cruelties were befalling him that the whole of humanity ailed.

This had to end…

But it didn’t and months then turned into years.

Your letters to Lucienne became so commonplace that one of the Dreaming ravens and your kingfisher had started passing by each other while delivering notes. You had begun to slack on your own duties as a curator and instead of simply documenting and protecting the vast wealth of knowledge you began to pour through it. You looked for anything you could find, hints in the life books of mortals of where the Shaper of Forms had gone. You had also started to disobey your father more and more as well…traveling to the mortal realm in the light of Ra so that your father would not see you in the path of the moon.

And then one day…

“Miss Y/n!” You hear a frantic voice, it’s oddly familiar and you rapidly look up from your research. If you hadn’t been sitting you would have fallen on your behind.

Lucienne stumbles towards you, a waning portal flickering weakly behind her as she gains her footing.

“L-Lucienne?” You are still shocked she’s here in person; she never left the Dreaming to enter your realm unannounced.

“Please Y/n, I know that I did not send word but-“ she ducks her head.

You’ve never seen her so distraught and your heart aches as you worry she might begin to cry.

Quickly you stand and rush to her side.

“What is it, Lucienne, please what’s wrong?” You beg her to tell you, placing a warm hand on her shoulder, urging her to look at you.

“The books… they are all disappearing.” She says her eyes watery as she looks up at you and you feel her hands shake as she takes your other hand in hers. “Whole sections of the library; they are gone.”

Behind her the portal flickers and dissolves into the air. She drops to her knees and you follow, easing her to the cool stone of your own library.

“I used the last of my magic to get here…to seek your aid.” She says.

“Can the books move realms?” You ask quickly.

“I believe that they can, there are millions of them though.” She replies, brow furrowing.

“Can we gather residents of the Dreaming to help us bring the books here?”

“The residents have all left, save for myself and a few others.” You stiffen; they’ve all gone?

You knew that dreams and nightmares had been abandoning the crumbling realm but you didn’t know it had become such a mass exodus.

“We’ll gather those that are left.” You turn your head and whistle to the kingfisher that is by your side in a quick beating of feathered wings. “Gather your friends from the mortal plane please, bring them here and ask them to make haste.” You whisper to them and kiss their soft head.

The kingfisher coos and with the flutter of its wings takes off.

Slowly you stand, facing where the portal Lucienne came through had disappeared; you close your eyes and focus. Plucking at the threads within the ether, pulling them taught, weaving them together until a golden path is spun before you that leads directly into the library of the Dreaming. Lucienne watches, eyes softening and tense posture easing slightly.

“Thank you Y/n.” She says looking up at you, the thankfulness clear in her deep brown eyes.

”You are my dear friend Lucienne, I would do anything for you.” You reply and hold your hand out to her. She takes it, a soft smile on her lips as she stands.

You look to the glittering pathway, you wonder briefly if your father would be displeased with this action. You are, after all, interfering with another realm, however you doubt he would want to see a millennia of knowledge decay… you decide that you’ll deal with it later.

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hcdragonwrites · 10 months

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A Mountain of Sweets

(a @journey-to-the-au fic) Tea Trouble part 1

Ok! This is a part one of two- yes I did it again I wrote something that’s a biiiiit longer then I want to subject y’all to in one post- so I had to split it. ENJOY!

Today would be glorious.

Earth Reaching Willow had to make sure everything went perfect. She had woken early, disentangling herself from her cuddle buddy of Wukong, Pear and several new babies who had begged for a story and had fallen asleep on Willows arms and in her hair. She dressed simply and made her way to the kitchen to help get a head start.

Her sisters were coming to visit.

All six sisters.

Everything had to be perfect, it would go perfect. It would go amazingly well. Willow had already started upon the tea cakes and tarts, picking the best peach jams and stuffings. Willow selected the finest green tea brand. Willow pulled the tea set gifted to her from Guanyin on her Wedding day, a spectacular peace of simple white porcelain laced and decorated in blossoms. She grabbed the finest tray and collected the sweetest teacups. When the teacakes and tarts finished she settled herself into the work going through the cold storages and ice boxes for the best fruits and seeds to fry. A plethora of moon tea cakes, of coconut cakes, and bean cakes was slowly being created. Willow roasted pine nuts, she fried small breads and cut the cold stored fruit into harmonious shapes of lotus blossoms and stars.

All seven sisters were coming to visit Flower Fruit Mountain. Stress strung her tighter then a bow for two reasons. The first of course was to impress. Her sisters would finally see how beautiful the world is here, to see how the Earth was not something to turn their nose up at. It was a paradise that consistently changed, that surprised her with every hand painted dawn and new sketched night. No two days were the same, no two phases of the moon were similar. The world was cast in shades and colors and music that Willow hoped- that she prayed - her sisters would see.

The second reason for her stress was … all six of her sisters were coming to visit.

Summer Turning Flower, her second sister and her mothers daughter. Winter Frosted Grace, with her cold confidence and calculations. Autumn Leaves Falling, who could charm a raging storm with a smile. Wind Over Sea, the swiftest and most eager to please. Weaves The Clouds, who liked to prank and tease. And Little Weaver Girl, the sweetest and youngest of the sisters.

Seven sisters of Heaven and … Willow worried for her sweet family here on the Mountain. Back when the Heavens didn’t corral the daughters in so tightly, on a summer night, they had decided to visit the earth. They had snuck out and taken their fathers best heavenly steeds- both as protection and as a mode of transport- to take a night among the mortals. It was a jaunt and play at rebellion, one Willow and Flower had been in planning for years. They had escaped the court, laughing with the abandon of children. Down to earth the seven sisters upon seven steeds had come a galloping. They had gone to the closest river, the shiniest bend of liquid night, and had slipped from garments to nothing. They had swam with abandon, laughed and splashed. The joy of that night gave Willow a beat of heart sickness. She missed those days when the sisters had laughed and schemed together.

They had been so naive then. So carefree. A taste of that joy was just in her memory, a warm brush against her senses. Like a ghost of a feeling.

“Willow?”

She turned seeing a very sleepy and very tired Wukong blinking at her. His fur was mused. His face still carrying the lines of sleep as he yawned wide and rubbed at his eyes.

“I was wondering where you had gone.” He came walking forward into the kitchen reaching for her hand. Willow stepped forward and took it. Wukongs eyes widened at the counter behind her- the red practically swallowing the polished gold of his pupils. “It is so early still, My Willow Tree.”

Willow felt a bit of her face flame. Just a little, as the Monkey King stepped up to the counter and looked at her mornings work. Wukong tugged her hand.

“Tell me you haven’t been up all night making these.” His faced begged her to counter his assumption. How else could she have accomplished so much in so short a time?

“Only since the first chime of the bell.” Willow sheepishly tucked a stray hair behind her ear, looking to the floor, to the ceiling, everywhere but her sweet friends face.

“The first chime! Willow- that was six Chimes ago!” He admonished and her husband was suddenly larger- leaning into her face and taking away her ability to duck his looks. Drat Wukong. Her friend may be uncomfortable with direct eye contact but he would quickly forget about it when it came to things of this nature. He now used his magic to make it so she could not escape his scrutiny.

“That was the turning of the night Guards! I could have had the chefs start the preparations. You did not have to wear yourself out.” Wukong gently put a finger to her chin, tilting her head up. A thumb ran beneath her eye, shadowing the dark circles that had made nests below.

“… “ Willow was caught. She had nothing to say in her defence. She had just been so nervous- so nervous and wanting to impress the impossible expectations of her sisters. Wukongs eyes softened, the gold going warm , honey melting into warm embers.

“Oh Willow what has you so worried.” He held her face in his hands gently, not caging her in but holding her so she could not deny or run from it. A simple I am here that grounded her.

“I just want everything to be perfect.” Willow sighed. She held one of his hands with her own. Wukong twined his fingers with hers, rubbing the backs with the pad of his thumb. “I want them to love Earth and see how much I love it. How beautiful it is. This whole place- everyone here- I love it so Wukong. I just …”

“Princess,” He kissed her brow, the places beneath her eyes where those shadows nestled. His smile was the soft curve of the moon at night, all soft light and kindness. “Your sisters will love it because you love it. You have nothing to worry for.”

“You say that but…”

“Willow,” he tapped her nose, tucking and tugging her into his arms, “if you wear yourself out before they have even started their decent from Heaven, I will bring Beng in here to scold you for the lack of sleep.”

His breath tickled her ear as he threatened Willow. She gave a mock gasp, looking up from her place beneath his chin.

“Not Beng! He scolds with his face.” Willow scrunched her face in the best Beng impression she had, the one the medicine monkey wore when his patients clearly ignored his advice. Wukongs face broke into laughter, a delightful waterfall of vibration along her back. “He may never say a harsh word but his face speaks enough to make my ears turn red.”

“My point exactly.” Wukong said. He grew a bit larger, setting Willows feet on his own. He started to walk her back, puppeteering her away from the kitchen in the goofiest way. “Now come on…”

“But…” Willow looked at the rice cakes, the bountiful mess and harvest of her labour. Was it enough?

“No one will touch the cakes.” Wukong promised. “No one would think to today of all days to do that. All of the mountain is abuzz and they want today to go off without a hitch.”

“I just … “ want to impress them. Want to impress you. I want there to be harmony between the love of my family in Heaven and the love of my family On Earth. “I want you to be happy with them.” She said out-loud.

Willow didn’t get to see the way the monkeys eyes went from honey to butter at her words. He melted against her, draping her in fur and twining his tail around her waist.

“Oh my Willow Tree.” He said it so softly, eliciting Willow to look up. Just in time, for Wukong had her legs out from under her and had swung her around onto his side. He was carrying her almost like the mothers did to their babes, close but with one hand on the ground. Willow curled into him, seeing the tender admonishment in her friends eyes.

“Come. Back to bed with you. The littles are all upset their Grandmother left without morning kisses and Pear is particularly beside herself.” Before she could say more, Wukong was loping away and back to their room where a barrel of littles came climbing and begging for cuddles and kisses. Wukong worried not for the snacks Willow had made. He more or less worried about the the stores she had burned through in those six chimes.

For Willow, in all her worry, had made a mountain of tarts, a landslide of teacakes, a sea of fried breads and foodstuff, that spilled and took over not one but four of the longest counters in the kitchens.

As he looked down on her, still holding him as she cuddled and cooed to the little monkeys he thought, fondly and with humour, “What am I going to do with you and your habit of baking us under a mountain of sweets?”

It was only a short time later that Ma and Ba crept into the kitchen, tempted by the smells of sweets and baking.

“Just one won’t hurt.” Ba grumbled. He wouldn’t admit it to Willow- but her food had woken him from his tangle with Chestnut and their little Lychee.

“Of course.” Ma said, stepping up to the counters with her tail excitedly flagging. She was still in the dregs of her recent release from postpartum depression. Willow had gently, for weeks, left foodstuffs and sweets outside her and Bengs hut. A kindness and a gesture Ma was so thankful for. Between Pomelo and Mulberry, she was practically spent with energy. She had also smelled the sweets being made and … couldn’t help herself.

“Willow wouldn’t mind one missing…” or two. Or ten.

Neither of the Marshals however, noticed the ice blue eyes open from a perch just above them, a cracked fracture in the wall.

“If you touch a single one of Willows cookies for those Celestials,” the cold voice of Xinshu whipped out like an adder freezing the twins in place “I will personally see your pelts pulled and turned into mud rugs.”

Xinshu fell as silent as a snow cat from her perch. Her teeth were barred in a threat. “I won’t have you two making us look foolish because you ate all of the baked goods.”

Ma and Ba, caught and cowed, scuttled away from the white simian in all her fury. If they had lingered long enough to see, to peek back in, they would have seen Xinshu look at the sweets. Like at a peach tart. And slide it into one of the pockets in her belt

#hcwrites #writing stuff #hcfanfics #for journey to the au #FIRST PART DONE #HERE WE ARE A CUTE LITTLE PRECURSOR TO THE DRAMA ABOUT TO UNFOLD #jttw au #jttw tag #sun wukong #jttw sun wukong #earth reaching willow #Wukong being big fluffy man who likes to walk his wife on the tops of his feets ? yes #am I a sucker for cute actions and romantic things? yes #have I stres baked before? YES #I listened to Hoizers new album with this. but the one that I really liked is “All Things end’#it’s that chorus man it’s like an anthem of the heart.#i love it #this is so fun to write pls #ENJOY IT ALL OF YOU #these monkeys have me in a choke hold but it ain’t bad #it’s so FUN TO WRITE FOR ALL THESE PEOPLE #It helps me also when I write my stuff because I am my OWN worse critic #like if it’s for me I am nitpicking everything and chewing it over #writing for others helps me not be over critical.#BUT ALSO WRITING CUTE LITTLE INTERACTIONS IF FUCKEN FUN PLS #HOW WUKONG COMES IN ALL SLEEPY FOR WILLOW #LIKE imagine home waking up and popping his head out of the cuddle nest and going ????? wife???? wife missing????#He had to leave a double for the littles to snuggle on #WRITING XINSHU BECAUSE HER BEING SNEAKY OVER MA AND BAS SHENANIGANS #ALSO FRUIT TROOP IS COMING

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