#does this count as a divine sacrifice?
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If I make enough of these, do you think NRS will bring subscorp back?
#does this count as a divine sacrifice?#Are you happy now boon?#Will you give me my old gays in love back?#mortal kombat#mortal kombat x#mortal kombat 11#kombat kids#takeda takahashi#quan chi#mileena#sindel#frost mk#shang tsung
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Holy, Holy, Lover Divine
Pairing: Gale x Fem Reader
Summary: You've never felt worthy of praise, until it's Gale kneeling at your feet.
Warnings: Implied sexual content, religious imagery, Gale may get a bit blasphemous ha
Word Count: approx 1300
A/N: Just another little Gale ficlet because I love him so much and this idea has been in my head for ages. Thanks for reading!
In this moment, you feel divine.
The term has followed you around, exaltations such as “saviour”, or “goddess” leaving the lips of those you’d saved. But it had never felt right, never felt like such praise should be heaped upon a mere mortal. Right place, right time, is what you always assumed should be your words. A simple soul who simply had the means to do what needed to be done. Hardly god-like, hardly worthy of the celestial.
But here, in the privacy of your bedchamber, under the gaze of your beloved, you finally understand that you are holy.
“You are beautiful,” Gale breathes, dark eyes roving over your face, your body, “I swear, there is no more magnificent creature on this plane or any other.” You feel your skin heat beneath your new nightgown, a flimsy scrap of gossamer lace you’d chosen with him in mind. It seems to be well appreciated.
“Don’t let the gods hear such blasphemy,” you murmur, wanting to both further expose yourself to him as well as shyly hide away, “a few of them might disagree.”
Gale shrugs, and you watch the motion of his broad shoulders greedily. “Let them hear me. I no longer care what she….what any of them think of me, of who and what I devote myself to. That right was lost long ago.”
Your eyebrows raise, but you are not surprised. Magic may still be bound to a goddess, but your lover has long stopped bending a knee. Prayers are offered not out of love, but duty, necessity. He gives thanks for the Weave, for spells and knowledge. But he hungers for her treasures no more.
She has long lost his piety, and you do not complain.
“Oh?”, you say coyly, shifting so your gown slides further up your thighs. You do not miss Gale’s eyes following the movement intently, and your skin burns with want. “And what are you devoted to now, Gale of Waterdeep? Where does your worship lie?”
Gale strides towards you, slow and measured, like a cat waiting to pounce. You know what he will say, but you want to hear it all the same. You want to bathe in it, this new feeling of righteousness, of being the idol of such great love and passion. This man makes you feel as if you have wings on your back and a halo over your head.
You vow you will not squander it.
“I am in service of a new goddess now,” he says, and mirth twinkles in his lust-glazed eyes. Your lips quirk upward-your wizard of words is about display his prowess.
“This,” he gestures to the room you share, to the bed you’ve come together in more times than you can count, “this is my temple. The sacred place I give my humble sacrifices, make my loving prayers, pledge my undying service.”
He’s close enough to touch now, bare chest within reach of your gluttonous fingers. Before you can grasp what you crave, his catches your hand in his, bringing it to his lips to press small kisses to your fingertips.
“These are my offerings,” he guides your hand to touch his temple, down to his chest, and further, further, until your finger brush over his desire. You whimper eagerly. “My mind, my heart and my body, all given freely and eagerly to please the one who has saved me time and time again from my own folly.”
He drops your hand and nudges your legs apart, sinking to his knees as he slots himself between them. You think you might combust with how hot the flame of passion is burning within you. Gale never fails to set you on fire from the inside out, but it seems tonight he aims to upstage himself.
“This is my altar,” his voice grows more sinful, his eyes even darker, “the place I will kneel in reverence eternal. Day after day, night after night, I will worship here, a thrall in my Lady’s service. For as long as she will have me.”
He leans forward, lips pressing against your inner thigh. You mewl softly, threading your fingers through his silky hair. Encouraged by your ragged breaths, he roams the giving flesh freely, littering your thighs with warm, bruising kisses.
“These are my hymns, my canticles of homage. I will bestow them upon every inch of this heavenly flesh. As many and as often as my Lady allows."
A gentle, teasing kiss is placed over your smallcothes. You gasp and tug him closer, a spark of white hot pleasure shooting up your spine.
“Gale,” you beg, thinking you may just go mad from his teasing, his honeyed words. “Gale, please-“
But instead of continuing, Gale pulls back and surges upwards, capturing your mouth in a heady kiss. You delightedly take what you are given, groaning as his taste explodes on your tongue. You will never get enough of kissing him, you decide. Gale always kisses you like he’s trying to crawl inside of you. Like he's trying to merge not only your bodies, but your very souls as well.
It never fails to set you on fire.
“This is my baptism,” he pants as he breaks your kiss, fingers flexing on your thighs, barely concealed restraint pulled taught like a bowstring. “I am cleansed of my sins, my foolish ideals, my bitter and lonely existence. To feel my Lady's love and desire in every kiss, every touch, every time I am inside of her- it is to be born anew."
Gale does not stay parted from you for long; his lips soon find their way to your neck, his fingers brushing your sensitive skin reverently.
And you are drowning. You whine and whimper and mumble intelligible pleas as your lover ravishes you with lovebites and praises. You fingers tangle in his hair and you pull-the groan that rumbles from his throat nearly makes your eyes kiss the back of your skull.
“Let me worship you,” Gale moans into your skin, pushing the straps of your nightgown down your shoulders. His mouth ghosts over the tops of your breasts. Gooseflesh rises in it wake. "Let me show you my supplication."
"As if you aren't already," you giggle breathlessly, falling back on the bed as Gale crawls over you. You welcome the heat of his body as it hovers above yours, close but not nearly close enough.
"Oh, you know I can do so much more," he grins wolfishly, eager hands helping you to slip off your nightgown. When you are spread nude before him, he slides out of his own trousers, laughing as your eager hands grope at every inch of bare skin they can reach.
"Shall I love you now, my Lady?" he asks, settling between your legs. A gentle hand cups your cheek, and you melt into the tender touch. "It is all I desire."
You brush a stray lock of hair away from his beautiful brown eyes. Happiness bleeds through the air around you, encasing the two of you in a world all your own. A sanctum most sacred and blessed.
"Love me then,” you sigh dreamily, “love me, and know how much I love you in return, you darling, wonderful, worthy man.”
And oh, how you are adored! How your lover makes your body and soul sing, more radiant and joyous than a choir of angels. How he plays your desire over and over, bliss unending, until you are left boneless and spent, a puddle of happiness in his arms.
And as you lay cradled carefully against Gale, enveloped in his ardor, you feel as if you are weightless. There is no more stain upon your soul, no mortal tarnish on your skin. No fear, no insecurity, no wondering. You are eternal. You are blessed.
You are divine.
#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#gale dekarios x reader#gale of waterdeep x reader#gale x reader#bg3#baldur's gate 3#bg3 x reader#baldur's gate 3 x reader#my writing
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Breathe
Cod - Nikto x GN!Reader
SYNOPSIS : Nikto drinks blood like a starved beast.
WARNINGS : NSFW - 18+. Beware, this is kind of unhinged. Canon-typical violence, blood (Reader has periods - emphasis on period blood), Nikto (a warning in himself), blood/period kink (?), poetic smut, fluff.
Author’s Note : I have no idea why I keep using poetic sentences whenever I try to write smut, but hey. Guess its just how I am. A filthy romantic at heart.
I do not give anyone permission to re-publish, re-use and/or translate my work, be it here or on any other platform.
Nikto licks blood off his fingers on the daily like a starved beast, savouring a taste he knows will never fully satiate his hunger.
It does not matter if the crimson nectar is his or not ; he keeps engraving its flavour deep into his mind. It leaves a warm, metallic feeling in the back of his throat - one similar to the one lining the surface of the gun that was repeatedly shoved past his teeth after its bullets were lodged in-between his ribs, the thick ropes circling his wrists harvesting his own, personal flavour directly from his veins.
Both life and death flow past his tongue, carving countless nightmares in the few hours of sleep weighing heavy on his subconscious - dragging a never ending series of shuddering breaths up his oesophagus whenever he wakes.
He can never escape them, for reality is just as bitter as his dreams. So he drowns it it blood, gunpowder and alcohol, turning away from the shredded screams coming from his reflection in the mirror.
Until that moment.
Your face is pulled into a grimace as you tell him about the way one of your stupid coworkers shamelessly blabbered about how dirty he thinks period blood is, filling your head with somber thoughts at the idea that yours is quickly approaching.
You don’t see how his eyes light up when they fall upon the date circled in red on the calendar of your phone.
And it is only when his lips meet your bleeding walls for the first time, lapping at the tears running down the inside of your thighs with a newfound reverence blossoming on his tongue, that the spectre in his head finally goes silent.
You look like divine absolution, he thinks, watching with rapt attention as moans flow from your lips like a holy river. Lust fills his mind, body and soul as he wonders if edging you further would allow him to taste the stars running through your veins. Would the world end up falling apart with you ?
The thought of the Earth shattering like glass against the echo of your climax fuels the fire burning in his stomach.
So he keeps staining his mouth red with your blood and slick. War-torn hands hold your legs still around his head as his fingers pull at your flesh, moulding it to his will - and he growls loudly against your core, the waves of a supernova bursting through your entire body as a new orgasm shakes the very foundations of your universe.
Is it the third ? The fourth ? The fifth ? You stopped counting a few seconds after his mouth first latched on the sacred flower blooming between your legs, too lost in the song of your own pleasure.
Nikto doesn’t need anything more to find his own release. He then crashes on top of you as you both fall from your high, lips sharing the last remnants of your erratic, scorching breaths.
He lays there for the rest of the night, lulled to sleep by the steady rhythm of your heartbeat - your divinity dancing on the back of his tongue.
The constellations lining your mind call out to him as he sleeps, flickering with the promise of finally carrying him away from the ruins of his heart. They light up his bones from below the thorns, and he would gladly sacrifice what is left of himself if it meant you could cradle them against your breast.
The warm softness of your skin soothes the pain still lingering in his scars, and he subconsciously cages your bare form in his arms as he drifts to the world of dreams.
He can finally breathe.
#cod nikto#call of duty nikto#mwii nikto#nikto#nikto x reader#cod x reader#call of duty x reader#cod mw2#x reader#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#smut#cod smut#i usually struggle when writing smut#but i wrote this so quickly#idk what possessed me#i enjoy poetic filth
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VENUSIAN UPGRADES - WHAT DOES VENUS HAVE IN STORE FOR YOU?
What does Venus have in store for you? Pick a number and get a feel of what its saying with some numerology secrets!
There is also a bonus part of this reading to help with your souls desires!
The bonus reading does not have a numerology decoding.
This is an Intuitive Reading.
What do you have to do to upgrade yourself?
414, 333, 222, 111, 1212, 17 , 85
414
4+1+4= 9
9- new beginnings , endings, letting go, cycles changing
4 - foundation, being centered, earthly bounds, physical reality
1 - do it yourself, ego, enjoyment, the sun, let it shine
“Joyous Fun” (The Quantum Oracle)
Its time to enjoy yourself for once, love. Go on that shopping spree. Enjoy that scenery. Make moves and enjoy the dance. You have to let go. Laugh it out. The world is yours.
“Sacrifice” (The Psychic Tarot)
Your past life is not your current one. You can change your life at any given moment. Be yourself and let go of that super serious character.
Sacrifice does old thought patterns that tell you that you cant have fun at the moment. That’s a lie. Be more joyful even if it doesnt make sense.
333
3+3+3= 9
9- new beginnings, endings, letting go, cycles changing
3- creation, adventure, joy, life, control, expansive
“Optimism”
Its easier for you to get what you want if you just believe. Your willingness is what connects you to your divine feminine. Be like the ocean, in flow and in love with life. Be your best self, it attracts the suitors!
“Mental Conflict” (The Psychic Tarot)
Move on from those old wave patterns. Just like your friend 414, your mindset is the primary problem as to why you won’t leap. The number 333 relies on your faith. That’ll be how you secure your desires. You can only go by what you know, sure.. but what happens when you take that leap without knowing how deep you will fall? It only goes up from here. Do what it takes to be the butterfly. You have what it takes. Dont forget to smile while doing it ;)
222
2+2+2 = 6
2 - love, relationships, partnership, connection
6 - Harmony, family, love, relationships, art, creativity
“Teacher” (The Quantum Oracle)
You’re Venusian upgrade counts on you to be the master at your craft. You have goals that you should continue focusing on and enjoying the work you’ve put into them. Be patient and listen out for new information given to you by the divine at this time.
Show the world what you’re good at, and host gigs that show off your skill. People are fascinated by what you do, and what you know. Be open to sharing with us what ideas, thoughts, and talents you have because people will listen.
“Spiritual Strength” (The Psychic Tarot)
Your spirit upgrade needs time in meditation and getting to express your outer world with calmness and peace. Work on creating a spiritual routine where you can embrace the moment ahead. The power is your subconscious mind, take time to focus on reality as is, and work towards being a mentor, volunteering to be of service, and helping others in need.
111
1+1+1 = 3
1 - do it yourself, ego, enjoyment, the sun, let it shine
3 - 3- creation, adventure, joy, life, control, expansive
“Fear” (The Quantum Oracle)
Underneath all that fear is the most beautiful essence there is. Why do you hide yourself? Be more kind to yourself and let the rage burn. Let your soul feel all those feels and let out a big roar. Dont be scared to show people who’s under all that love you give yourself when no ones watching. You are a light, truly.
“Mental Conflict” (The Psychic Tarot) + Angels Of The Four Directions (The Quantum Oracle)
Subconscious thoughts need work. Focus on positive words for healing yourself. Your angels want you to pick where you go next. You can be anything you want. Just make sure to balance your mind-body-spirit with being more thankful of your growth and challenge yourself every time you feel that annoying fear.
1212
1+2+1+2 = 6
1 - do it yourself, ego, enjoyment, the sun, let it shine
2 - love, relationships, partnership, connection
6 - Harmony, family, love, relationships, art, creativity
“Status Quo” (The Quantum Oracle)
Travel! Travel! Travel! New adventure awaits darling. Whats stopping you? Create new memories by just experiencing a new horizon. A road trip, a bus ride or a plan ticket is what you need to invest in and go enjoy the scenery. This could be calling you to move across the city, state, or country. Either or its asking you to enjoy the motion that is forever changing. This is what we need to embrace our divine feminine flow!
“Flower” + “Scorpion” (Nature & Soul)
As change in scenery is good, it helps to transform you and your perspective on the way things should go. Be more open to new places, new jobs, new people from all cultural backgrounds. You shine the most when you explore your options. Take care of yourself by being down for the ride.
17
1+7 = 8
1 - 1 - do it yourself, ego, enjoyment, the sun, let it shine
7 - mysticism, spiritual, luck, god, the creator, universe
8 - transformation, power, the will, change
“Joyous Fun” (The Quantum Oracle)
Your luck comes in by the enjoyment you allow to grow in your life. You should try having fun at a concert, going to a art exhibit, or just simply finding the laughter and joy in just being. Experience the moment and allow your life to sore. You may not know the answers to everything but when you truly move forward in just doing something it gets favored. Take a chance on living! You never know what you might get ! ;)
“Foundation & Achievement” (The Psychic Tarot)
Its incredible to be able to live the life we want to live but how are you going to receive it? Start slow and relax. Still take moments out of your day to find the time to be in pure bliss. You dont have to stop your life to ‘have everything in place’ like you think.
85
8+5 = 13 / 1+3= 4
8 - transformation, power, the will, change
5 - change, adventure, the mind, agility
13 - divine feminine, transformation, ‘the witch’
(For this reading 13 is divine order. Its the mother/universe. The feminine urge)
“Courage” (The Quantum Oracle)
Take pride in who you’re ancestors made you to be. You got the juice. You're the originator. The trendsetter. The one who starts it all. They may not get it now, but they’ll play catch up later. Take control on how the world sees you, thats your gift. You control the cards. They wish they had it like you, however they dont know what darkness you had inside of you alchemizing itself into power.
Your power causes reactions out of people that can attract or repel. You’re a magnet to others emotions but this is how you keep balance. Being who you are proudly causes others to look at themselves deeper to the point it shifts their thinking. You mirror those who need healing, they cant take you with them to their shadowy nightmares but you sure can bring it out of them. Dont let them get to you, they just wanna see you down because you’re too high for em.
“Peacock” Nature & Yoga
Beauty is surrounding you. Be cautious with who you let in your circle. They’re not deserving of you. Be kind as what comes around goes around. If they’re not kind back, it will surely come back to them. You’re mother natures brightest jewel, they cant keep treasure hiding for ever. Be open to letting the world see your new self. Its time to embrace that beautiful nature of yours. The world needs to see it.
Bonus Reading
(this one will not have numerology decoding)
212, 999, 1111, 717, 888, 777, 33
212
Throat Chakra
Speak highly of yourself. Have more higher standards for others and tell them about your boundaries.
999
Travel
Take a hike. Go to that new sushi restaurant. Try ice skating. Traveling is more than just going abroad. Take trips to different places you haven't been. It's all about changing your perception of reality with Venus. Be up for surprises.
1111
Fragmented Energy + Destiny
Have a better diet for yourself as your energy can be dense from having a poor diet. When our energy is low, we're not able to connect with ourselves, the intuition and the divine. Clarity is necessary for this new journey you're embarking. Time to change the environment you're in beloved.
717
Soul Mate Connection
So what I'm getting for this group is that a divine connection is going to bloom for you shortly. Be honest and vulnerable with this connection as this can bring in the rawest form of love you could possibly receive. This is a higher vibration. You're ready. Their is a need for soul growth in this connection so being who you're truly are to them will create a flow where you can build a garden with this beautiful connection(s).
888
LOTUS
Share the experience with everyone around. There is so much in store you just have to pick one. It's like wandas vision, you control where this movie goes. Your desires are getting a chance to bloom this season. Be grateful for all the universe brings, and you will see a whole fruitful banquet in front of you.
777
TRANSCENDENCE
Take a journey in the mind. The shrooms are calling for you to take a look. It's time to get more into the peace-light-love attitude. It'll calm you down. Your safe. Connect to the divine to embrace beauty in your life. Journal. Take a picture. Go outside and enjoy nature. River and taking hikes are significant here, as the silence in nature can give you the clarity you need. As well as grounding you to embrace yourself as nature itself.
33
CREATIVITY IN THE DARK
Embracing your darkness is where your true power lies. The gateway to your beauty is through the hidden realms of the psyche. Your power holds a force so powerful its harder for people to walk away. You have gifts in artistic endeavors that generate an audience and a source of income due your mind having access to cosmic gateways not many are willing to find themselves. Within that darkness is a skill in creation. Enjoying the arts not only gives you a place to enjoy, but to overcome obstacles. Let it go, and enjoy what your soul wants to say in the power of art.
#intuitive readings#venus#astrology#astrology readings#tarot#tarot readings#psychic#angel numbers#numerology decodings#fun#faith#worthy#venusian#venus in astrology#pick a card#pick a number#astrology observations#astrology community
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[ IF NO ONE HAS EVER TOLD YOU ABOUT YOUR FATE, I WILL BE THE FIRST | pathologic ]
This is my entry in the Seraphiism '23 event! By of course, the lovely @seraphiism . I'm trying out a new format/writing style, so lemme know what you think <3
WARNINGS: A little blood, nothing graphic WORD COUNT: 3.2K (This got away from me)
{ I.THE BOUGH KEEPER IS SACRIFICE FIRST, SOLDIER SECOND, AND LAST OF ALL MAN}
And least of all, yours. The weight of eternity weighs heavily on his shoulders, but he presses on, and you mourn him for it. He pays the price of honor enacted by a far lesser man of his past, takes up arms and spills blood in the scorn of the divine. Because of Destiny’s decree.
You try to imagine it–eternal penance for a crime you could hardly remember. You imagine bearing a sword and a curse, one and the same, for hundreds of years, and your heart recoils at the misery that wraps around it. You can hardly believe that that is to be his fate-you refuse to. It cannot truly be his choice, not one made in any good faith at least. Or perhaps any faith at all.
You suspect he lost it ages ago.
“Do you ever think…” You begin hesitantly. “That you could leave it behind? All of it?”
Dainsleif, your lover, sets down his book. It's one of the ones you’ve kept around, and it seems he finally has time to peruse them, however borrowed that time it is.
“All of it?”
“...Yeah.”
“No. No.” He reiterates. And he smiles for you, because he knows how much it makes your heart warm.
“I can't abandon my duty, neither can I abandon you. They are one and the same. You are…woven into me. Cutting you off from my life would be cutting away the fabric of my soul. I could never.”
“...Why do you feel they’re one and the same?” A weight on his heart. Perhaps.
He fingers the worn pages of the book, his eyes dark in thought.
“I have a responsibility to the world, and you are a part of the world.”
“Those two sound so very far removed. I'm just one person, but if I could decide, my sole desire would be just to rest with you.”
He chuckles, good naturedly, like always. “If the world was ruled by our desires, I'd have been forever and solely yours already. And there would be no gods, but you.” For a man who rages and detests the divine, you’re not sure how to feel about that.
“But alas, the world often ignores our most fervent desires, unless we force it to acknowledge us that is.” A weight tugs his brow down, and his features buckle under it. Something like grief. “And that…is a very hard thing to do.”
“Alas.”
You nod, and return to your wayward gaze out the window. You imagine a life where he lives for you, and nothing else. You try to deny in your mind that he would want anything else. What could he find out in the world that he cannot find in your arms? A cursed man, believing himself content in penance and self flagellation, of service to the world at large.
But he is yours. You deny the world in his place.
{II.THERE IS A ROT THAT REPLACES THE MARROW OF HIS BONES}
It is woven into him, and he cannot escape it. He has long stopped trying.
It wears and tears at his soul, and marks his skin in scars, and he continues on. Fate has decreed that he will do so forevermore, until the day the abyss drags him down into its depths, its spindly fingers already grasping at him in twisting, molted blues. But he tries, because when you kiss the expanse of cursed flesh, a blissful smile on your face, a sudden rush of heat makes his skin prickle. It’s not love, though he loves you. It's rage.
Its disgust, and sick vitriol. You deserve better, you deserve more. You don't need this broken tapestry of pieces clinging onto some semblance of humanity. You don't need your nights interrupted by his nightmares, or his form clinging to your doorway, bloodied and offering the only tribute he knows to your altar.
He does not worship the Gods, but he knows something more divine, having long since slipped into the pews of your chapel.
“...I’m sorry.” You rush towards him, and he leans into the shoulder you offer him, letting you pull him into your bathroom where he stains the white porcelain.
“If you were sorry–” you huff as you set him down. “You wouldn’t get hurt so often.”
You pull out the first aid kit, and set to patching him up, removing layers of clothing to see the hurt beneath. He hardly winces, but his heart tugs.
“...You know I can't help myself.”
“You’re just one man, Dainsleif, there's too much for you to do on your own. And we both know this is about more than just your honor, or duty.”
“...Yet I am beginning to wonder,” he mumbles as you wipe away the blood. “Whether it has always been my fate to deny Fate.”
“What do you mean.”
You sound too upset for it to sound anything like a question. A demand, perhaps. He sighs. He is tired. So tired. He’s always been.
“Whether Fate is truly something we can overcome, or whether my rage is just a by-product of providence. If it was all preordained.” He shuts his eyes.
“The Gods that cursed us, the people and the nation I failed, my curse, my duty and obligation; I wonder if you too are foredoomed, just another predilection.”
“Is that why you do all this? To prove, what? Fate wrong?”
He doesn't answer, but he does open his eyes to see your mouth flatten. You continue patching him up, taking care of him, but he sees the way your eyes tremble.
“...Or perhaps just self-actualization?”
“...I have an obligation to the world, and to you–”
“Don’t say that, don’t pretend that this is for me, this is not for me. You’ve been doing this long before I was a thought on the breeze.” Centuries wear down his memory, but the tug of your mouth and brow pulls at him like a drawn bow, piercing through the fog of his fatigue.
Your shoulders shake next. “So if I asked you to stop, would you?”
He doesn't answer, even when the tears spill from your eyes.
“I don't care for fate, destiny or whatever. I care about you. Keep your honor, keep your anger, but stay with me. Is that not enough?”
“....It’s for you, too.”
“...I don't appreciate being your excuse, Bough Keeper.”
Celestia always watches, but even he cannot help but utter a prayer to some unknown god, that their eyes do not fall on this wayward moment.
He is fine with cursing the stars, his fate, with breaking body; he is fine with letting the heavens bear witness to his rage.
But not his grief.
It settles, thick and cloying on his tongue. The sour tang drowns out everything else.
{III.HE WILL NOT CHOOSE YOU. WHEN DESTINY TUGS AT HIS CLOAK AND BIDS HIM LOOK, HE WILL TURN FROM YOU}
You know he wishes he never met you. That he never fell in love with you. You try to take it as a compliment.
You would give anything to remove the burden on his shoulders, if only he were not so adamant on carrying it. You do not see the reason why–you would rather love a coward than mourn a legend. You would rather he stays home with you, in your arms, than leave and come back, over and over and over and over again.
You know he wishes he never knew you.
Dainsleif, he holds you, works in the garden with you, bathes with you, loves you–but his hands are tense, and his eyes stray to the world outside your window. You at least know that when he is gone, that he leaves because he is thinking of you, that he cannot handle being perceived by you for too long; It renders him asunder.
“Like a predator, staring at the open carcass of my soul,” he once said. “You just make me feel so…”
‘So what?’ You had wanted to ask, but you had known better, didn't he just tell you? So you acquiesce, but on the inside you ache. You plead and you beg, and you don't let the words spill past your lips; You hold them in your chest and your eyes and watch him leave.
You trade chaste kisses for letters in your mailbox, blissful sighs for dandelion fluff on the wind. Your love is like a hot air balloon, you cannot keep him close but you can keep him tethered even as the rope frays and tears at your hands.
Welcome him back with them open, and settle for apologetic kisses on your knuckles, from your knight, for a ring on your finger. No god would hold your marriage sacred, anyways, despite your tears.
“And what knowledge have you gleaned from your travels this time, my love?” You smile. Please don’t leave me again.
“Nothing that I don’t already know dearest.” I’ll do anything. Just give me the word. Just give me the knife.
“Which is?” Why don't you ever ask me? You know I'll do it.
His eyes, so deep and somber. They know, but they don't answer. “Fate has foretold that I will return here, as always.”
“Of course.” And he will always leave.
{IV. WHAT IS IT LIKE TO LOVE SOMEONE WHO IS ALWAYS RUNNING, ONE FOOT OUT THE DOOR? TIME DOES NOT SIT STILL, FOR NO ONE.}
Celestia is always watching.
Even here in this quiet moment, where the night holds vigil to the stars' homily, as they drag their forms past that pale corpse of a moon.
It's a still moment. He has removed you from his arms and you continue to sleep peacefully, your chest rising and falling, your heart the drum that starts off all his nights and days.
He is going to lose you, but before that he will lose himself.
Even now, he could feel the curse, like an ever burrowing parasIte, slowly consuming him. It replaces him. Eats away at him, fills him with rot, and he has the audacity to find solace in your garden. You dig out the rot and replace it with something far kinder, but that doesn't stop the curse from growing.
He is like an inteyvat flower. Hardened and unable to wilt unless placed back in the soil of his home. You’ve decided to love a dying man, and stand vigil, always, at his never ending wake.
Sunshine from a past life. Peers who trusted him and stood at his side and back, carrying the weight of honor. He doesn't remember them, but he remembers the sunshine. He remembers how he failed them. He remembers only what he can and only knows what he should. And he knows this tale like the back of his hand, the curve of your cheek.
This was fated to end in tragedy.
You move in your sleep and he startles. You roll over, and Dainsleif waits until you settle, to breathe easy again.
He can not reconcile who he is with the man he was before he met you. He doesn’t wish to go back, but he muses on how much easier it would be. He could deny the Gods, defy Celestia, the Archons, even Heavenly principles, even Destiny. But he cannot choose to remain alongside you as well.
He mourns this indecisive fool you turned him into. He will not survive without you, but that is alright because it has to be. Not every story has a happy ending, but every story needs a narrator. He'll re-read your scripture and memorize your chapters for as long as you remain, and even after.
And he will remain long after you are gone.
{V. IF NO ONE HAS EVER TOLD YOU ABOUT YOUR FATE, I WILL BE THE FIRST}
The sunlight paints the fields honey and gold, and soon it will be time to return to your little cottage. There will be cherry wine waiting on the table, and some mending you still need to finish, but beyond that you take in this moment, drink it down greedily; an open bud unfurling like a fist to an open palm, demanding the world its due.
Your lover on the other hand does not share the same attitude. His head rests in your lap, but you feel the restless energy in him, and stay still in the hopes of encouraging him to do the same. It doesn’t work.
“Settle down, Dain.”
“I am calm.”
“No you’re not. You’re fidgeting.”
“...I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave soon.” Ah. As always.
“Then all the more reason to relax now, while we have the time.” He scoffs at that word, time. He rises to meet your eyes, and you smile at his mussed hair.
“I might be away longer than I usually am. I’m not sure how long I'll be away for.”
You crack a knuckle in anxiety. “But you’ll be back, of course?”
He only pauses for the slightest of breaths. “Of course. Will you still want me back?” Your face takes on an exasperated look, but he waves it away.
“Do you not get tired of waiting, always? Are you not tired of constantly grieving, of having to love this broken piece of tapestry?” You are shaking your head before he's finished.
“No. If you are torn I will mend you. If you’re just a piece of tapestry then I’ll stitch you onto something better.”
“Leave behind these metaphors and poetry. I would rather believe you pity me rather than actually love me.”
The words hit a chord deep inside you. It carves a gorge, and anger rushes in to fill it.
“So what? You would rather me love a stranger? Someone who would understand me less than you do?“ You stare him down.
“..If I must–”
“‘Must’? Well you don’t. And by whose order? Whose words? Is that truly something you would allow, or what you tell yourself you should let happen?” His face doesnt twist, but you know the tint of misery that spreads under his skin. It's blue-black, like a bruise, like the stretch of his right arm.
“No. You will truly be damned thrice over if you allow that. You are so content to let the world, to let fate, decide how things are and should be–I don't believe in that. My fate will be what I say it is, and I say you will be with me forevermore. If you must leave, then leave, but come back to me, don’t let go of me!”
“I am ruined,” A wave rustles the grass, like a crowd gone silent. “I am ruined, cursed, damned as you say. You do not want this. You should not want this.”
“I don't believe that, and you shouldn’t either. Who has told you this, has Celestia personally decreed your fate? Or do you continue to let tragedy be the narrator of your life?” You grasp his face, pull him closer to your eyes.
“I have you. I want you. And it is reciprocated, As long as that is, things will not change. I refuse anything else.”
His eyes go back and forth between yours, and he sighs.
“As long as I breathe, I will return to you. But that does not change the fact that this was never supposed to be. If not by destiny’s nature than my own; It is only a matter of time before this too, ends.”
“Then forget what fate or destiny has told you. I am your fate, I am both your penance and redemption. If no one has ever told you about your fate then I shall be the first.”
Ans he is drawn, he listens like your words are rapture, like the first believer in the front pew of a sermon. So you smooth back his hair, and speak a prophecy.
“We will go home, and pick the tomatoes in the garden. They’re ripe now, and we’ll use them in our dinner. We’ll wash the dishes, unwind. Bathe. I’ll wash your hair and you’ll scrub my back. The sun should have set by then, so we can go to bed. As it gets darker I could read to you by candlelight, or, we could make love.”
“We’d need another bath, and to change the sheets then,” he mumbles, the slight pink hue high over his cheekbones.
“So would you rather we make love earlier? Or in the bath to save time?” You grin, and it draws soft breaths of laughter from your lover. You go on with your spiel.
“We’ll go to sleep together as always, and in the morning you’ll be baptised by the morning dew and the fresh brewed coffee. Much like today, you’ll laze in the fields with me, and when the time comes for you to leave, I'll give you my blessing, and my hopes as always, for you to come back to me.”
“So forget duty, when you are with me. If you are cursed I will be your balm. If there is rot in you I will scrape it out, and use it as fertilizer for my garden.“ He scoffs under his breath.
“You think this is a burden easy to unlade.”
“Yes, if you would only just let it. For by my decree, the Twilight sword shall be laid to rest in my presence, for I will be it's sheathe.” You only half jest and he looks at you quizzically.
“Did you just make an innuendo–”
“--And your words shall always be sweet, for my kisses shall honey your breath.” You kiss him to emphasize, or to quiet him, and he leans into you with a shudder, like a cat seeking affection, only something more desperate.
“If you care not for starlight, I will fasten you a crown of dandelions,” you continue. “And garb you in silks and sighs.”
“Fanciful daydreams,” He mutters, eyes closed. You trace the faint veins on his eyelids , violet blue in the dappled sunlight. 'Like crocuses.'
“Not when I’m with you,” you shake your head. “I’ll make them a reality, I swear. On all the love I have for you.”
He shakes his head in answer, a denial ready on his lips.
“The Twilight sword––”
“As I said– Shall be laid to rest in my presence.” You look at him as if to dare him to refute. He doesn’t.
You turn tender. You scot closer, practically in his lap now, if only to see his lashes flutter, pupils dilating.
“If you do not worship a god you may worship me, as I do you. That is your fate.”
“...Alright.” He sighs then, shakes his head, as to rid himself of the trance you put him under. He stands, and offers a hand to you.
“Alright then. Let your words be what I live by–I am yours, if you so say.”
You take his hand and head home.
#Seraphiism '23#seraphiism '23#events - seraphiism '23#writing event#omg this is so late#but its here!#my stuff#my writing#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact dainsleif#genshin impact dainsleif x reader#dainsleif#dainsleif x reader#dainsleif genshin impact#dainsleif x you#I'm trying out a new writing style and format#let me know your thoughts
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[HC] The Orb and Karsite Weave
(Or: How Mystra is Only Out For Herself)
This primarily comes from my head canon that I use in all cases about the The Orb, and well specifically the book from where The Orb was contained.
I think the book in which the Orb was contained arrived back on the Material Plane at the same time The Crown was heisted out of Mephistopheles’s vault, stored by the Archdevil because he knew it contained this nascent divine power and perhaps he was considering whether a time would come when he would use it.
The Book, and by extension The Orb, were accidental passengers in Durge and Gortash’s return from Cania, perhaps that one could not be without the other - however, they completely overlook this book. But the Book and Crown are a pair and had our two villains realised this, they’d have had something more powerful than even they originally conceived!
So, it lands in the world and it’s like a flashing beacon; ancient, almost primordial. At first, Mystra’s Chosen picks up on it because it’s his work, seeking out and destroying magic that would threaten The Weave. However, his assessment of it is that of the old Weave, Mystral’s Weave, before she unravelled to end Karsus. Restoring this would be a great boon to Mystra, and to him, increasing her opinion of him in her eyes as well.
Gale has no idea it’s Karasite Weave; he tells us this in Act III and there is absolutely no subterfuge on his part when it comes to his titbit of information. And this isn’t a ridiculous notion - all magic was destroyed that day, and the Karasite Weave probably only existed for seconds. It should have been wiped out as something too small to shatter.
The only person who knows what it is, is Mystra. And I have trouble believing she wasn’t aware of what her Chosen had found until it was too late. Mystra could have stopped Gale, saved him before he needed saving but she let him open the book.
I suspect her reasons stem from a ruthless decision that she was willing to let any number of people die to destroy this piece of magic. It’s a threat to her - something that has utterly destroyed her Weave in the past (Gale tells us this in the none-romanced version of this discussion). It’s important to note from the Audience between Mystra and Gale is she says herself that it was his focus on saving himself that caused her to shun him. So, in essence, Mystra has two things to fear - the Crown itself as well as her Chosen now being imbued with this terrifyingly powerful nascent divine power. She knows if Gale combines the two, he’ll probably outstrip her as a God in a very short space of time.
(As an aside here, I think Dekarios the Divine does eventually usurp Ao if you pursue Godhood - that’s my interpretation of Raphael’s ‘warning’.)
Mystra shuts herself off from Gale, hoping, maybe even going as far as praying that he’ll run out of artefacts and explode, destroying the Karsite Weave with him. Again, she doesn’t really care about the casualties, to her any number of dead justifies the destruction of the Orb.
But he doesn’t run out. Instead Gale crosses paths with the Mindflayers, their Netherse imbued tadpoles and in orbit of The Crown.
Mystra sees the opportunity - she knows Gale has no idea what he’s really dealing with. She can be rid of The Crown and Orb in one fell swoop, and Gale is the Chosen who fell in service to his Goddess. I get the feeling the Mystra thought Gale might be grateful and much more willing to do this than he actually is, and feels her path is assured. She doesn’t count on the leader of the pack (or in the case of a Gale Origin run, Gale himself) deciding not to kill the Elder Brain at that moment.
It’s the easy route, isn’t it - what is a little sacrifice to save the world? Why would these heroes opt for the harder path?
So she dispatch’s Elminster to deliver the news and provide Gale with the much needed relief to let the Orb feed off the Weave. Remember this is not a cure, it’s a temporary respite that she could take away again.
(Aside here - the Human!Gale Orb ending is actually, in my opinion a really double edged sword because he’s not cured).
I do actually believe that Mystra couldn’t cure the Orb before now. The quest information for The Wizard of Waterdeep tells us, regardless of Gale’s decision, that if he seizes the Crown, the Orb will answer to him. I think Mystra can’t outright cure the Orb until she gets the crown because other Weaves don’t answer to her - look at the Shadow Curse, her power is deeply limited within Shar’s domain.
Once she has the Crown, it becomes in her best interest to extract the Orb from Gale. She takes it for herself, and we don’t really know what she does with it - perhaps she locks it away in one of her Pleasure Domes; perhaps she ponders using it against a fellow God such as Shar - but she needs both the Crown and Orb together. She cures Gale because it suits her and she’s not outright malicious enough to kill him in the process. I do think she held on to lingering affection for him but she also views him as what he can do for her.
#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#bg3#baldur's gate 3#the orb#the crown of Karsus#Mystra#no good can come of this#headcanon
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My condolences for the containment breach I get how having thousands of ppl say the same joke over and over in the notes of your genuine analysis post can get annoying 😭 😭😭😭 I’m extremely down to hear more about the differences between the ninth and tenth doctors if you have any other insights you want to share though!!! I’ve been turning your post over and over in my brain like a rotisserie chicken ever since I read it it’s so good
omg thank you for your condolences...it really is the containment breach of all time...let me think!! I have a MAJOR tenth doctor video essay I may or may not make so here are the cliff notes:
-To begin. Anne Carson wrote that to live beyond the end of your myth is a perilous thing.
-in many ways, the 10th Doctor is cursed from his inception b/c he is born at the end of the Doctor and Rose's romantic arc (from a certain point of view) AND YET he is born sheerly out of love for her / to love her
-(we all know the fanon--or is it canon?--idea that Ten's face was subconciously selected to be one that Rose would like, and he's gone for her from the beginning...hello, The Christmas Invasion.)
-all that said, by the time The Parting of the Ways occurs, Rose and Nine have completed a full narrative arc:
-Nine whisked Rose away from the life of boredom and sheltered drudgery she experienced on the estate; she brought life back into the eyes of a hardened war veteran/The Last of the Time Lords
-more importantly, they complete a kind of mutualistic ultimate sacrifice (in a Shakesperian sense?) wherein Rose 'becomes' the Doctor by absorbing the literal heart of the TARDIS (we don't have time to get into that) and erasing the Daleks into dust, finishing the last of the Time War AND saving the Doctor's life
-he immediately returns the favor, absorbing the energy that's destroying her with a kiss (let it be known--the ONLY kiss between the Doctor and Rose Tyler proper--neither Tentoo or Cassandra really count imo), returning her to humanity, life, and safety
-all that said, Nine dies both saving AND being saved by Rose in a kind of unrivaled (?) parity between Doctor and companion. it's perfect synthesis.
-THEN 10 is born. uh-oh.
It is here that I would like to quote Michael Kinnucan's fabulous essay 'The Gods Show Up' on Greek tragedies:
The tragic hero is complete. You can call him unhappy (miserable, utterly broken) even before he is dead. For an instant he is something like divine. And then he dies, because there’s nothing left to do. The center of every tragedy is the image of a human being who has already died but keeps talking, someone whose face is a mask.
I think one of the most fascinating 10 v. 9 moments is that one scene that got cut where Rose says "I miss him." and the Doctor replies "Me too."
As many people in the notes of that original post point out (god help me) 10 is ALSO born IMMEDIATELY into heartbreak--whatever vestigal version of Nine lives inside him died with the despair of losing Rose
-TEN is the man that went sauntering away. perhaps that's part of why Ten is so terrified of/resentful towards regeneration. I think he's lived precisely the worst cost of it.
-The notion of 'talking after death' and 'wearing a face that's a mask' is a existentialist take on regeneration itself--ten EPITOMIZES this tragic hero archetype, esp. after Doomsday (literally! Doomsday!!)
-during his life, I wonder if Nine already considers himself lost in a sense? He's lived past the Time War, past the destruction of everything, and he's also the first NuWho Doctor. HIS ability to indulge in love (even in mortality, given his short lifespan) is different.
-TEN on the other hand has that INCREDIBLY frightening (for him) confrontation with Sarah Jane in School Reunion--knitting him back into canon continuum of Doctor Who, stitching him to the myth of The Doctor that has to live on and on and on in perpetuity--and seems VERY haunted by (im)mortality
-How much time does Ten spend running from Jack? A human being who CAN follow him to the end of time? Ten can't decide if he wants to be mortal or immortal, human or Time Lord. Think of the way he acts with Martha, with Wilf, with Donna. He is totally frozen inside of the space of his seasons. He has time paralysis (fatal, for a Time Lord)
-he is the first doctor that we see reallllly try to stave off regeneration
-That's why there's a certain frantic escapism to his adventures with Rose in S2--he knows, more than she does, that they are hurtling toward's disaster.
-he can't love Rose in a consumate way, even if he wanted to (he wants to) b/c he's trapped inside of his myth. he's like sisyphus. or that guy getting his liver ripped out by the eagle. Nine and Rose are lines that can cross. Ten and Rose are parallel lines. if they touch, the universe dissolves. hence why the narrative/God/Russel T. Davies had to lock her away in another universe
anways!
Ten once canonically carved a statue of Rose by hand with every inch of her body absolutely perfect, from memory, and I think that's crazy
#timepetals meta#timepetals#doctor who#doctor who meta#nuwho#rose tyler#tenrose#10th doctor#tenth doctor#the doctor#ninth doctor#9th doctor#ninerose#hope this is fun for you op!!! i also turn them around in my head like rotisserie chicken#or the very real dolls i had of them as a child that i brought to sleepaway camp and talked to#if you couldn't tell that i was that sort of person
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How my sagau team would interact: Hyperbloom
Ah yes the team with the man i spent money on.... this man i swear.
Alright. Al haitham is main dps, shinobu is healer with Traveller and Xingqiu being sub dps.
A/n: just check the Zeph national post for Xingqiu's part
Tw: Yandere, mention of animal sacrifices in Shinobu's part
》 Al Haitham
The 11th to be bestowed with a golden star
He gets along quite nicely with everyone, their like a well oiled machine. On downtimes he talks with Xingqiu about various books mostly about the creator and her ideals, discussing various topics with Shinobu and asking the Traveller about the creator and their traits.
This man made me spend so much money... and i still don't have his weapon, crying rn. But i love him, hes my husband(real)
》About the creator: Sage of the divine
What do i think of their grace? Well from the short while ive been with her she is quite the artist. Had i known that i would be blessed by her after becoming the acting grand sage, i would have searched up all the known records the academiya has. Maybe i should ask the Traveller and Lesser Lord Kusanali for more information.
》About the creator: Facination
What's on the table? Well it's all the records and information we have on her grace. Being the Acting Grand Sage has its perks after all, anyways do you have some time to help me sift through these things? I need any and every bit of information you have on her. So that when she decends, we will be equipped to cater to her every desire.
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》Kuki Shinobu
Blessed by the creator
Despite no longer being a shrine maiden she still remembers the rituals and ceremonies held for the creator, often prays for herself and the arataki gang. She gets along well with the others and shares the information about various ceremonies held in Inazuma for the creator.
She's really fun to play tbh, im still building her but ther heals and electro make Al Haitham so effective.
》About the creator: Prayers to the divine
O- oh hey what's up did Itto amd the others cause trouble? Just checking up on me, alright i just finished praying to her grace. She's helped me and the gang in our toughest times, so i always give her my thanks.
》 About the creator: Ceremony
Lady Guuji, called for me the other day looks like she wants me to be apart of this celebration for her grace. Apparently since I'm one of her blessed. Lady Ayaka will lead the sacrifice because she is the main vessel of her grace, they've already picked out a sacrifice, a white rabbit and a snake. I hope their grace is happy with this.
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》 Lumine - The Traveller
Vassal of The Creator
Held in high regard by all the blessed for her connection to the creator. Everyone always gives their offerings to her in hopes of it reaching her grace. Gets along well with everyone, ever since she arrived in the land of Sumeru her grace has blessed her with more items.
Oh my beloved lumine, ever since dendro came out I've been using her more and more. She even tears the spiral abyss despite being half built along with the others.
》About the creator: Guide of the divine
Lumine: Hey paimon... do you think that their grace would still stay with us when she decends?
Paimon: Of course she would! Paimon knows where all the best food spots are in Teyvat!
Lumine: Well, she has people like Ayaka and Master Diluc who would let her stay.
Paimon: Well it doesn't matter! Because you and Paimon is the best guides in all of Teyvat!
Lumine: Alright Paimon.
》About the creator: Original
Paimon: Hey how many vassals does the creator have?
Lumine: If i remember correctly... She has 38 vassals right now.
Paimon: Does that include you and me?
Lumine: Well it includes me but it would be 39 if you were too.
Paimon: Yeah! we're like the original worshippers of the creator.... well maybe if you don't count Zhongli and the rest of the seven.
Lumine: Mhm, no one else can say otherwise.
Tagging:
@meimeimeirin
#sagau#tw yandere#genshin x reader#self aware genshin#genshin impact#genshin impact sagau#writings from the cosmos: genshin
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Y’all wanna hear something fucked up abt my mcd rewrite? Of course you do!
First I wanna start this off by explaining that dreams are very important in my rewrite. Dreams are somewhat prophetic, depending on the person and the context.
For example, relic holders, specifically descendants or reincarnates of the divine warriors especially experienced these prophetic type of dreams. These dreams are usually memories of the divine, or even messages from them to their current… replacement..
For some, these dreams only start after they’ve acquired their relic, like for Garroth and Menphia’s relic holder (trying to decide if I’d rather it be Katelyn or Lucinda). For some, the dreams only get more detailed, clear and frequent after acquiring their relic, like for Aphmau. And for some, the dreams begin even before acquiring their relic, like for Travis, Eseryt, Aaron, and Laurance. (I’m counting Laury even tho Xavier didn’t technically have a relic, not getting into that right now but i will at some point)
Well anyway, ever since Eseryt was a small child, she’s been having the same vivid dream, constantly on the last of the month. It started when she was 5, after being taken the Barton, and they ended when she was 18, after leaving Barton. She’d awaken in the dead of the night, someone calling to her, luring her away with the same gentle yet monotone voice. They’d call her up the mountains that surrounded Barton. She’d climb them half awake half asleep, following footprints in the snow to the same spot each time. A small crater in the ground. There she’d find a woman. She was shattered, unraveling, trying desperately to pull herself back together. She’d mutter to Es, begging for her to help. Eseryt wouldn’t go near her, she was too afraid. Then, the woman would scream and Es would wake up in her bed in next morning, covered in snow.
It was like this until she turned 18. The next time she found herself with the Woman who begged, something in her told her to finally help. She stepped closer, reaching out her hand, and when she touched the woman’s face, her body was suddenly pulled back together and she was whole. The woman then grabbed Eseryt’s wrist and looked her in the face. Eseryt noted her scarred over eye. The one eyed woman whispered “Find her.” and disappeared. Eseryt woke in her doorway this time, a single dagger in her hand.
Ok time to explain all that!!
The woman Eseryt has been seeing is Kul’Zak. Yes, in my rewrite Kul’Zak is a woman and Eseryt is her incarnation.
Her “Find her” is the reason Eseryt left Barton in the first place. For the next few months after that night, she’d wake in the middle of the night to whispers of “find her”. She had to know what it meant.
The “her” Kul’Zak tells Eseryt to find is Aphmau, and it’s reason the forest leads her to Phoenix Drop. Eseryt, however, always assumed the “her” was her sister Cadenza. However, Cadenza being in Phoenix Drop at the time Eseryr just happened to arrive but purely by chance. Probably.
Now, why was Kul’Zak shattered and why couldn’t she fix herself? Well, here’s where it gets fucked up!
In order for Irene to shatter Shad and seal him in the Nether, she needed to use the life force of her fellow Divine Warriors. She couldn’t sacrifice herself otherwise the spell wouldn’t last. Only thing is, she didn’t tell the others that sealing him away would kill them. She especially didn’t tell them it would quite literally rip them apart where they stood.
I should mention that the Divien Warrior’s mortality works slightly differently in my rewrite than it does in canon. I’ll make a separate post about that later :)
#aphmau#minecraft diaries#aphmau fandom#i don’t support aphmau#mcd#minecraft diaries aphmau#mcd aphmau#aphmau mcyt#mcyt#aphblr#aphverse#aphmau au#aphmau rewrite#mcd au#mcd rewrite#minecraft diaries rewrite#mcyt au#aphmau fanfic#aphmau oc#mcd oc#original character#divine warriors#lady irene#irene the matron#shad the destroyer#kul’zak the wanderer
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she who owns tragedy - a wip by @nightlylaments
GENRE | dark fantasy.
TARGET WORD COUNT | 90-100k
STATUS | first draft; first book of a series.
POV | dual first person pov (kinda wanna change it to third person)
THEMES | black mc's, diverse cast, inherited magic system, cult/hidden society, prophecies, fated mates, sacrifices to gods, traumatic pasts, all living things possess magic, forest setting, morally grey characters, bloodlines & lineage, fate & free will, race of people is persecuted, destructive magic, feuding gods, identity.
TRIGGERS | blood, violence, mentions of war, abuse, forced relationship, mental abuse, obsession, depressive thoughts, mentions of child abuse, mentions of human sacrifice, mentions of genocide, manipulation.
SYNOPSIS |
In the kingdom of Azurani, people are mysteriously going missing, nights are lasting longer, and something dark has begun to seep into the soil. Something that is tar black and smells of death and decay. Something that will send the entire kingdom into chaos. Followers of the Old Faith called it the Dawning, and they said it would end the world. Not many in Azurani believe in the Old Faith anymore, as its followers have been driven into hiding by the High King, but those that do fear the Dawning.
But the Sages spoke of a prophecy. There is a land where the rivers flow with the blood of the Goddess, trees sprout from the ashes of the ancient war, and spirits of those who perished reign. There is a land where a sleeping army has resided for a millennium. They have been slumbering for too long. And a girl made of destructive magic running from an obsessed man and a ruthless heretic made of shadows lives are tangled together by cruel fate. They hold the key to saving the world or destroying it.
SETTING/HISTORY |
When the goddess created Azurani, she created the Mundanus to give life to her new world. She fell in love with a Mundanus man, and when she birthed her first son, she created two kinds; those who could and those who could not.
Namari loved her creations equally, but her blood flowed through one and not the other. Kimenas were gifted with shards of the Goddess's powers. The Mundanus grew jealous and demanded their own powers, but the ones she gifted them paled in comparison to the Kimenas. They took this as favoritism.
A millennium ago, the Mundnus raged war against the goddess and her people. And a new God rose from the darkness and bloodshed, proclaiming himself the High King, gifting his most loyal warriors their own lands and allowing them to do as they pleased with the Kimena. The goddess had perished, and her children fled the palace going into hiding. Some kept their bloodline pure, while others found it better to breed with the Mundanus. Now the Mundanus rule with an iron fist, and Kimena are forced to hide their magic or be persecuted.
CHARACTERS |
Nezi'a Vasily; end bringer, soul guide, soul eater, the golden one
is sewn from tragedy, a melancholy girl with gold-speckled skin and a heart that does not beat. Her fabric has been ripped at the seams.
Zyon Almatsi; the king of shadows, umbraki
is made of shadows and carved from stone. he is ruthless divinity; the stars are jealous of how bright his anger burns.
Mazu Atelier
is undeniable beauty and sharp teeth, she is a creature grown in dark, cold water, a seductress with a heart of gold. she hides behind confidence and a sharp tongue.
Nox Tempest
is a vagabond whose home is a girl he should hate; the son of a fabled pirate king, he bleeds gold and controls his loyal crew with an iron fist.
Karro Vasily
is a shattered mirror whose pieces cut him too deep, leaving his palms bloody and his spirit broken. regret ravished him. he felt too much, so he decided to feel nothing at all.
Cipher Skash
is a righteous man, loyal and damaged. hier to a throne he deserves but does not want, he follows his heart even if it is slowly breaking.
Selah Ajea
is made of ice and envy. she is a master of poisons, that wants what she knows can never truly be hers. violently brought into the world, she is beautiful and deadly.
Amar Duman
is made of darkness that consumes him. he is a weapon, cruel and merciless, hiding behind his web of lies and handsome face.
wip page | wip tag | wip inspo
✧ ask to be +/- to tag list ✧
#WIP INTRO#WRITEBLR#wip intro#w.swot#writers on tumblr#mywips#amwriting#black writblr#wtwcommunity#looking for writer friends!#nightlylaments#my writing#dark fantasy#black characters
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You Never Will: Part 2
Carlos Sainz Jr x Reader
Summary: A chase, a collision and a creation.
Warnings: Swearing.
Word Count: 820
Authors note: Honestly, I didn’t initially want this to have a happy ending, I wanted to leave the story where it was, but I don’t know, maybe this one deserved the happy ending. Sorry it is so short but sometimes I think a moment doesn’t need a million words, I just hope I portrayed it all well enough 😊 I hope you all enjoy, and I can’t wait to hear what you think.
You Never Will: Part 1
_____
“No, no, I’m going to fix this” and with that Carlos was stumbling out of the apartment and running after you with zero plan of what to say, but if he could at least just get you to stop for like 5 minutes then he could figure it out , you just had to give him a moment to figure it out.
One foot in front of the other. That was it. That was all it took. One foot in front of the other. Guiding him to you. Always guiding him to you.
Where were you?
Don’t stop. Just keep running. One foot in front of the other. You’ll find her. You always do. It’s always back to her. Always.
“Carlos!” no, don’t stop. They aren’t going to stop you. Let them chase. You don’t stop until you find her.
Fuck, why was running so difficult and why the fuck was the elevator not working.
Don’t trip down the stairs.
Don’t ruin it.
Don’t ruin anything.
Not anymore than you already have.
And next minute Carlos felt the cool air hit his face as he barrelled outside, and there you were walking down the road.
Walking was probably a gross understatement. You were storming down the road.
“Y/n!” Carlos was screaming after you, only running faster as he watched you turn to look back at him, knowing it was now or never.
For all the months he had been pining over you. For every second he spent with you and every millisecond he spent thinking about you. He was yours wholly and entirely. You had consumed him, ruined him, made him whole. He considered you holy, you had absolved him of every sin he ever had committed. He had spent so many years thinking that the great thing in his life had happened, but he realized, in this moment more so than ever, that he had instead been waiting for it, and looking at you on this crisp night, you staring at him as he bolted his way to you like his life depended on it, he had done nothing but wait for this moment. He had done nothing but wait for you.
Lord knows he would wait for you, forever if you had asked it of him, but he wanted you. No, he needed you.. He was nothing, not a man, not a human, not a collection of atoms, nothing but an abyss, a void without you. Nothing but you was ever going to sustain him ever again. You breath life into him. Not only were you his sun and stars and moon, but you were everything in between as well. You were the matter that made up all life. You were the spaces between the atoms, binding and separating everything. There was nothing that Carlos could look at, touch, experience that was not teeming with your every essence. You were both the tangible and intangible all at once. You spoke light and held galaxies. Ages ago he had discovered that your name was synonymous with ‘everything’. You were the sacred thing that he would allow drag him into destruction. He was yours wholly and entirely.
And finally, as he stood in front of you, none of that felt even remotely worth telling you because even that was incapable of expressing how he truly felt about you, the depth at which you had awakened his soul, how completely, utterly, and divinely he was yours.
When one faces a Goddess, how does a human express their devotion in a way that truly matters?
Sacrifice.
And so that is what Carlos did. With shaking hands, he gently cupped your face and kissed you. His sacrifice.
The final sacrifice. The sacrifice of your friendship, of his life as he knew it. Of the Carlos that would only ever exist before this moment and never again after. Of every hope and dream he ever had. Of this moment itself.
The final sacrifice of himself.
All for you.
And to feel your hand rest on his chest and the other grasp the back of his neck, pulling you into him more, he knew it was not only himself being sacrificed tonight.
You had both defied the fates of not getting what one wants. Or rather were you being rewarded for being brave enough for going after it.
You had both willingly chosen the death and together were stepping into the rebirth. The collision. A super nova. The merging of two galaxies, the destruction of one thing for the creation of new.
“You. It was always you” Carlos whispered against your lips, never willing to part far enough from you to create a distance this great ever again, “It will always be you”, his own smile mimicking yours as your foreheads rested against each other, breathing in the new air that only your lungs would ever have the privilege of experiencing. “You are Everything”.
#Carlos Sainz Jr x reader#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#monaco#charles leclerc#max verstappen#f1 x reader#Carlos Sainz Jr x You#Carlos Sainz Jr
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Hello!💕 are there misunderstood fic you would recomment? but like the funny one not the angst one. Thanks!!
Hi! We have a #misunderstandings tag, so do check that out! Here are some more angst-free fics to add to the collection...
Defence Cascade by Twilightcitysky (T)
“Let’s talk about things that can cause symptoms like yours. Have you stopped or started any medications?”
Fell looked at the other man in the room. “Medications…?”
“You remember when Mrs. Dowling would have one of her ‘episodes’ and need to have a lie down? I used to bring her paracetamol.”
“Did you turn it on in some way? Or did she, before she swallowed it?”
“Just a glass of water for afters, usually.” The man in black spread his hands, palms up. “Does that count?”
“I imagine it would ‘stop’ once it’s in the gastric cavity- or is that when it ‘starts’?”
Both men looked at Amber, eyebrows raised. She was almost sure they were taking the piss. Nearly, completely sure about that. 75% sure, at least.
---
Aziraphale is having some trouble with his human corporation. He and Crowley decide to let the humans have a go at fixing it. A psychiatric trainee working the emergency room has an unusual night.
Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered by mirthandmatter (G)
It was lucky that Aziraphale had thousands of years of thwarting experience under his belt, especially when it came to his former foe. Plus, his own holy moral code forbade him from taking advantage of the situation. While the demon was obviously under the thrall of a spell that compelled him to make blatant overtures to Aziraphale at every turn, he couldn't be in safer, more considerate hands.
Alternately: Crowley has a terrible and very confusing weekend.
A Lot of Space Between Your Ears by nerdsandthelike (G)
“And you expect us to just waltz into Heaven, rob the archives, and walk back out?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Nearly a year after they successfully stopped the world from ending, Heaven obtains evidence that would result in Aziraphale being recalled from Earth. Crowley and Aziraphale decide to steal it back.
An Arrangement of True Minds by Sodium_Azide (T)
Two families, alike in pragmatism if not dignity, make an arrangement 14th century style.
Aziraphale Fell and Anthony Crowley do their family duty, as they understand it, but their actual sacrifice wasn't written in the prenup.
The Conviction of Things Not Seen by Sodium_Azide & wargoddess9 (T)
When a saint is supposed to ascend to Heaven to fulfill a Divine purpose, perhaps it would be best if there was someone there to greet him and inform him of this. Otherwise, any old demon might saunter in and put everything into a tip.
An unfortunate accident, an ineffable plan, or just bad luck, leads to an entirely understandable sequence of events, thank you.
here come and sit where never serpent hisses by shrinking_universe (T)
Crowley accidentally erases most of his and Aziraphale’s memories (including of each other), leaving them completely baffled about everything. Naturally, they assume they had a one-night stand. Complete stupidity ensues.
- Mod D
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okay…I have to know what you think of Seyka? Any other thoughts?
Man, nonny, I...really hope I like her! I'm curious to see how they are going to differentiate her from Aloy's other (both in general and...One Very Specifically, lol) allies.
I was chatting it out with some folks--and I think it could be really compelling if she's a fierce and confident fighter, but quick to frustration, prone to overcompensation, maybe downright pessimistic at times? She looks pretty petulant at times in the trailer. Maybe this is her flaw and her room for growth throughout the plot of the DLC.
@finrays and I were tossing around the idea of her being a lower-level but ambitious grunt in the Quen marines, always passed over for rank promotions due to nepotism, etc. Has a chip on her shoulder because of it. This would set up some interesting initial friction with Aloy, who is...from a frustrated outsider's POV, especially an outsider who is versed in the Ancestors, the very definition of nepotism, lmao. "How could you know how this feels? You've always been important."
This could also set up an interesting potential for betrayal?? If either the or a big baddie is a higher-level Quen military person, they could ask Seyka to quit Aloy's meddling and she'll be rewarded with what she's always wanted--to rank up, to be Important. And hey, maybe she does betray Aloy. Maybe she betrays Aloy only to realize her mistake and then sacrifice herself to keep her alive. Maybe she says "screw you" to the baddie and sticks with Aloy.
In any case, definitely could be a cool dynamic. Aloy has never really been betrayed before in earnest, IMO. Tilda's scheme doesn't really count, and Sylens...sure, maybe with the lance, but I don't think Aloy has ever trusted him like she might trust Seyka eventually. That would be a nifty little twist.
Ooh, and yeah, maybe she takes that Focus from a Diviner friend (dead or alive).
And then there's the big question that everyone's been riled up about: Seyka as a love interest. I have--admittedly and predictably--many, many thoughts about this, most of them incoherent, I'll try to get some of them out. There are inclinations to suggest that maybe the DLC will lean in that direction? But they're all very, very vague. IMO--and I say this as a proponent of including romance in the series--I think it would be quite a....Very Choice, to enter Aloy into a deal-sealed canon romantic relationship with a character introduced in a console-specific DLC before the third game of the planned trilogy. What would work better, though, IMO? A couple options.
What we've always had. Meaningful glances/loaded gestures/everything we've seen for other fan favorites so far in ZD and FW. It'll seem more powerful in BS because the main-character base will be limited. But in comparison, it'll be similar to what we've been used to analyzing for years.
Aloy does develop an explicit crush on Seyka, but Seyka (probably very kindly!) rejects her? Which, like, POOR ALOY, but also an interesting character moment for her, I think.
Same as above, but the aforementioned betrayal/death deal gets in the way.
So like, am I calling her a stepping stone?? Maybe!! Who knows! Like I said, having a defined and sealed-deal thing moving into the final(?) would definitely be a storytelling risk, IMO. I feel like something so huge, character-wise, should be mainline story material.
I hope this was an at least half-coherent answer! My thoughts are very scattered as drop day approaches.
#that or I’m just a GODDAMN CLOWN#who knows!!!#horizon burning shores#horizon forbidden west burning shores#horizon forbidden west
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Chapter Four of Sacrilege and Sororities is out!
Summary: After an assassination attempt, Link and Zelda must live together and navigate the impending Calamity, grad school, strange dreams, and their complete disasters of personal lives. One of those things is more difficult than the others.
Pairing: Link/Zelda, OG Link/Hylia
Rating: E (earned it this chapter haha)
Excerpt from Chapter 4 (Dreams of the Divine):
Link dreams.
Stars that he’s never seen shine above ancient trees whose names are forgotten. Warm night air rushes against the skin of his arms that his light tunic doesn’t cover. The woods smell like summer and blooming life and everything he’s been yearning for in the last four years trapped in a dank dungeon. And the woman glowing in the moonlight in front of him is everything that he’s been yearning for since he first learned how to want. As she approaches Link in the center of the clearing, her bare feet brush against flowers that emit their own blue glow.
“Link,” she greets him as she does every night, her voice speaking his name like an instrument he can’t quite name but that he knows deep in some ancient part of his mind. “It’s lovely to see you again.”
It’s both his name and not at the same time; it isn’t really Link here, but it is still somehow his name. And aside from the difference in names, Link realizes that they’re speaking a long-passed dialect of Hylian that is forgotten to even history books. But he somehow knows and remembers it as well as his own language.
For Link, sometimes dreams, memories, and memories of dreams are one and the same. But this is the first time he’s ever dreamt of her, the Goddess.
“I fell asleep as soon as I could, My Goddess Hylia,” his past self replies, unable to help the grin that breaks his face whenever he sees her. Now that’s Link’s gotten used to smiling again, his facial muscles ache less.
They’ve met in his dreams every night after Hylia arrived on a crimson loftwing and gave him the divine sword, gave him his life back, gave him purpose again. He knows it’s not normal for mortals to converse with goddesses, let alone for hours every single night for months on end, but he can’t bring himself to care. Link would give anything to spend all of his daylight hours with her, too.
Hylia laughs but then grows quiet at the sight of his bare arms in the moonlight.
“Oh, Link…”
Link almost chokes when the Goddess takes his hand in hers and brings it up to her face, examining his wrist and forearm. Her touch is fire and lightning and everything dangerous and powerful.
It’s been months since his release from prison and he’s had hardly any human contact, aside from help during his relearning to walk. Though he supposes this doesn’t exactly count as “human” contact.
As her gaze focuses upon the heavy scars encircling Link’s wrists, Hylia speaks, her voice full of sorrow, “I’m so sorry for what you had to endure. I’m so sorry for all of your suffering. I fear that there is still so much more you’ll have to bear, and I can’t protect you from it.”
Hylia’s words sink into his mind with a dull sort of horror. After years and years of suffering, Link is still not done. He’s never done. Perhaps he’ll never truly know comfort or peace. Though her touch is an absolution Link never even imagined he’d know, either. And if pain is the price he has to pay for her touch, he’s a willing sacrifice.
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HEADCANON TIME!
There are plenty of divine figures and each of them has a vision of how the world must look like and mortals they want to succeed. There are many disagreements within godly community. Compramissions can't be made, but war of such powerful beings would demolish the whole universe and looking for new one would be tiresome. Instead, every group of divine figures in any universe have something, that looks like game. Such games have different names and rules, but always are about manipulating mortals to achieve their goals without direct interventions. They may look like game of chess, but they aren't even remotely similar.
Members of divine game in Dream SMP:
1. DreamXD. First guardian of Dream SMP. The one, who created it's world and gave it the name. Created the rules for it's divine game, that every other members agreed with. One of three best players. Stole Foolish from Mother Innit(she didn't mind it). Pretends to be divine patron of Dream, but in fact patronise George. He believe that stories have meaning only if they have end and so want every mortal to die, bringing the end to his perfect symphony
2. Mother Innit. Goddess of Life. One of three best players. In fact, she was so good, that XD could outsmart her only after years of trying to put her guard down. Divine patron of Tommy. Want the world to evolve on it's own, but will make sure, that her son would be safe and happy. Brought Kristin, her business(if it can be called like that) partner, to Game
3. Kristin. Goddess of Death. Qualified player, but does not take game seriously. She has her own realm to give little care about the world of living. Divine patron of Philza and, basically, just tries to make sure, that he will be happy in the end. During game, give some advices to Sally
4. Sally. Goddess of Ocean. Has literally no idea how to play, but tries her best(and still every move is terrible). At first was divine patron of Wilbur, but lost faith in him and began to patronize Fundy. It didn't help him mich. Youngest of Gods, if we don't count Karl Major. Appreciate Kristin's mentoring
5. Karl Major. God of Time. At first, was just ordinary Karl Jacobs, the Time Traveler. After Incident learnt everything about time traveling that Inbetween could teach and spent so many years trying to fix everything with those powers, but failing every time. Each time he tried, he lost parts of connection to the Time(he learnt, how to keep memories, but sacrifices are needed), until ascended above it. Now, tries to create the best timeline from new position. Divine patron of Karl Minor, his younger version. Stole Overseers of Inbetween and Other Side from DreamXD. Dream didn't like it. While others play "Chess", he plays "5D chess with multi universal time traveling", still failing in most timelines
6. Blood God. Pretty self-explanatory(Not just blood tho, power, rage, war and justice all are his symbols. In a way, Nether is his domain). Divine patron if Techno. With Mother Innit about allowing the world to evolve on it's own, but want to create a system, that will make this evolving just and fair. Created a fragile faction with Kristin And Mother Innit due to similar views
7. Egg. Creature of Corruption. Pet of DreamXD. NOT A PLAYER, but comes from time to time to flip the table. When it happens, everyone shout at it and tries to put away.
#dream smp#Dream XD#dreamwastaken#george not found#Mother Innit#tommyinnit#motherinnit#kristin minecraft#philza minecraft#Philza#sally the salmon#Sally#Fundy#wilbur soot#karl jacobs#Blood God#technoblade#Egg#Crimson egg
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I'm in liquified disoriented tatters since the finale, but something I was meaning to say before this episode: I think Carpenter is like. 35, maybe 40, with a dash of "you look like shit" making people assume she's a bit older. the hunter siblings are absolutely teenagers as well.
also, a thought from the middle of the episode, before I was fully liquified:
At a certain point, Mercer wasn't much of a hunter anymore. She was just rabid.
[con't] Faulkner do you want to explain that thing you said to Mason. could you please. I don't. think I follow. faulkner
Incorrect! Carpenter is 45 at the bare minimum. I agree that at first (or second, or fifth) glance she looks older, but honestly she feels even older than that based on the fact that she has been keeping company with twenty somethings for the last two years. (Faulkner being max 22 and Paige being 28 at the outside.) Hayward is the only person in the whole cast who we might consider 'of an age' with Carpenter, and mostly because he's in his late thirties/early forties and prematurely aged by a steady diet of stress-smoked cigarettes, lies, deserved guilt, and paranoia.
"Mercer is rabid" fuck you that's a good line.
I do actually have reasoning for this! There's a great post in the silt verses tag calling out how nonsense it seems for Faulkner to snap at his faith no longer being illegal. Surely that's a good thing! Religious persecution is the reason Nana Glass is dead and Em drowned; the reason for Carpenter's parents being absent and Mason running his a private cult. Real religions have fought tooth and nail to be recognized by the state as legitimate; most modern people understand a lack of religious tolerance as bad and wrong. There's no reason to believe that this wouldn't color our readings of a podcast about fictional religions.
What I think perspective ignores, is that---when it comes to TSV a religion's choice is not between "criminalization/persecution" and "recognition by the state/freedom." Instead, the existential question before every faith of the Peninsula and the Linger Straits is "criminalization" or "co-option". Your choices are either to be an enemy of the state, and operate under your own wild rules, however corrupt---or to throw your lot in with the government, and become yet another arm of the state trying to kill you. After all, it's the legitimate government tying sacrifices to trains, courting gods via test audience, letting dispassionate scientists discover your saints by scientific method with a body count. Stripping faith and narrative from your religion for the sake of power---like copper wire from the walls---is what the government does.
And that's what I think Faulkner objects to. For good or ill, he is the most sincere believer in the Trawler-man that we know---his investment isn't in the Parish and its earthly power, the way Mason's is; he doesn't particularly care about its people, as Carpenter does. He believes in the absolutism of its god and his role as that god's prophet. No more, no less.
Is this unreasonable, unhinged? Yes. But it does mean that Mason willing to sell out that divine absolutism for a seat at the Peninsulan table is an existential threat to Faulkner and everything he is.
Hence: Murder.
#tsv spoilers#the silt verses#the one benefit of being immersed in catholic european history for a while#is reinforcing that ''this person genuinely in their heart believed this about god and they moved mountains for it'' is a valid motivation#you can in part explain historical motivations by power and control! that was there too.#but if you ignore how deadly seriously people took theological questions for large swathes of history#you will not understand history.#(......this probably applies to modern day too I just haven't read enough books to confidently assert as much)
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