#ivy the seraphic
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#degrees of lewdity#dol#eden the hunter#dol eden#dol pc#ivy the seraphic#my art#Sorry about my english..TT
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Okay so y’all know how canonically there’s a batburger with meals based on the bats and their enemies? Well…. I think it’d be funny and interesting if in every au, the menu’s slightly different.
Sure, they’ll still probably by the batburger, bat fries, robin nuggets, etc etc, but… but in a world where robin doesn’t exist, what would they be called? It’d be funny to see little details where the menu changes to reflect the names of the gotham vigilantes of that au
eg, in my au, To Brace Upon Benign Feathers, there’ll still be Batburgers, Batfries, Two-Face Sandwich, Killer Croque, and Ivy Salad (Not Poison), but I also think there’d be Shadow Shake, (a cookies and creme milkshake type of thing), Seraph Scones (Alfred refuses to eat them because they’re not “real scones”), Anubiscuits (literally just pop-eyes buscuits cos they’re dry enough for you to MEET anubis(the actual god)), and Wraith Wraps
Tl;dr: I think different au’s, especially reverse robins au’s, should have their own little batburger with a different menu
#tim drake#batman#batfamily#dick grayson#batfam#fanfic#jason todd#bruce wayne#damian wayne#reverse robins#wing fic#wingfic#wings#fic: to brace upon benign feathers#duke thomas#alfred pennyworth#batburger
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑 (𝟏𝟖+)
𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈
[ PAIRING ] Vash the Stampede x reader
[ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] The first of many reposts from my old blog.
[ SYNOPSIS ] You're the child of a dead preacher. He's an angel on the run.
[ WORD COUNT ] 6.5k
[ CONTENT ] Modern AU, fallen seraph!Vash, I'm just making up shit about angels honestly, graphic injuries, sacrilege, oral sex (m receiving), vaginal sex, virginity loss, Vash has a big dick and he does not know how to use it, creampie, sad ending (I'm sorry).
“I don’t remember it looking this…”
Your now former groundskeeper guffawed on the other end of the line. “Shitty?”
You shook your head even though your father’s abandoned church was in rough shape. It was clear not a soul had been looking after it.
“It looks…”
“I ain’t got all day.”
You thought long and hard. “Depressing,” you finally muttered. “I thought you were going to take care of it.”
“You think I’m gonna work for free?”
“If money was an issue you should have said something,” you sneered.
She coughed. “I ain’t that chapel’s keeper,” she replied firmly.
The chapel was tucked away deep in the mountains away from town. You looked at the ivy covered door barely on its hinges. Lichen had overtaken the walls. The roof was covered with decaying leaves and bright green moss and had a sizable hole. It was a miracle it hadn’t caved in. Most derelict buildings didn’t survive the rainy season let alone several.
“Probably full of mold and critters anyway. I don’t know why you wanna be there in the first place.”
“I…”
Even you didn’t know why you came. Your father had been dead for a while. It’s not as if you were seeking closure. Your scars had healed long ago, the pain only a dull twinge if you saw photos of him giving you a piggyback ride or sleeping on a sun soaked beach.
“Boredom,” you laughed. “No other reason.”
“Lia—”
You hung up before she could utter the entirety of the word. You knew it was mostly out of guilt for letting things get this bad.
You walked the perimeter and tried to avoid the tall grass that surrounded the church. It was amazing how fast the mountain was able to reclaim it all. Sooner or later the concrete pathways would get eaten up by the earth, but for now it was only nipping at its heels. As you made your way to the back, your feet leaving deep imprints in the soft, waterlogged soil, you were confronted by a massive hole in the ground. You were centimeters away from falling into it.
“Holy shit.”
You squatted down to get a better look at the crater. There were iridescent white feathers scattered about, some stained with blood. You couldn’t tell if it was fresh or not. There was no bird in the area that could make a hole of that size in the ground, but you couldn’t think of any other explanation. You stood up and noticed evidence of something clawing its way out of the hole. A trail of bloodied feathers made their way to the back door of the church, or rather where the back door should have been. It was missing altogether, ripped from the hinges.
All the signs pointed to getting the fuck out of there, but you couldn’t quell the curiosity swirling inside you. Sweaty palms and the pit in your stomach weren’t good enough deterrents. You took slow steps towards the gaping doorway. Each step felt like a potential death sentence but you were steadfast.
You peeked your head inside and saw nothing out of the ordinary. Just pews and the other side of the church. Light streamed through the hole in the ceiling and a few of the lancet windows, giving everything an ethereal look. It felt liminal, a place between worlds. Stepping inside you were greeted by native grasses popping up between the wood paneled flooring and a few more bloodied feathers.
“This can’t be safe,” you muttered, making damn sure to take careful steps.
You really had no business being in there. There was nothing special or sentimental stowed away. Your father’s belongings and any items of religious importance were swiftly removed upon his death. All that remained was dust and several moldy study bibles.
You stepped deeper inside and stood beside the pulpit. Images of your father preaching fluttered about your mind. His voice was clear as day, only making the lack of him more apparent. You felt like someone was pushing needles into your heart. You stumbled away to the pews, hoping distance would rip you away from your memories.
You crept down the aisle, following the trail of feathers. It was much like your father had many times before on his way from the pulpit. The pews were in terrible shape, the cushions had all rotted away. You hoped to sit in one for old time’s sake, but it was a risk you were unwilling to take. Stained, festering nylon curtains covered most of the lancet windows, though a goodly portion of them had been haphazardly torn down. You assumed it was an animal for your own comfort.
Continuing down the aisle you noticed a large heap in the corner where the feathers ended. It was wrapped up in the missing curtains and shivering. You tried to think if there were any sightings of enormous birds in a desperate attempt to make sense of it all. Of course nothing came to mind; it was only wishful thinking.
Your eyes darted around, looking for something long to poke the heap with. The only option was a study bible. You quietly reached for one near the pews, the cover moist between your fingers. You started to dry heave as the smell of the old, wet book enveloped you.
“Ew, ew, ew,” you said, tossing the bible at the shivering mound.
Your aim was terrible and the bible slammed into the wall before hitting the ground beside the heap with a loud thud. Your mouth filled with saliva, anxious nausea overwhelming you. The heap shot upright, the curtains still clinging to its form. You didn’t know what to do so you ran out the back door. In your hurry to escape you tripped into the crater. You could feel death surrounding you, the air around you signaling your inevitable demise. You tried to climb out of the hole, but it was simply too deep. Fertile soil wedged itself under your fingernails in your futile attempt to escape.
You sunk down and sat in the dirt, holding your head in your hands. You felt like an idiot. Why did you come here? What purpose did this serve?
In the midst of your mental breakdown, you heard footsteps and again made a pathetic attempt to pull yourself out of the hole. You nearly vomited when you saw a tall figure obscured by curtains hovering above you. It squatted down and held out a shaky, wounded hand. You were too frightened to move.
“Take it,” a small voice rasped.
You continued to stare at it, wide-eyed and terrified. It wiggled its fingers.
“I don’t have all day.”
You slowly reached up and grabbed its hand. Its palm was rough, fingernails full of the same dirt that was underneath yours. The heap hoisted you out of the hole with an ease you didn’t expect. It seemed so fragile when you first saw it shivering in the church.
It quickly scuttled back inside before you could properly thank it. You stood there, eyes fixed on the open back door. You knew the right thing to do was run down the road and get in your car, but again your curiosity got the best of you. You made your way back into the church and tip-toed over to the figure. It was resting in the same corner, only this time its feet were sticking out from under the curtain. Streaks of blood marred its skin.
“Hello?”
Its shivering stopped.
“Hey. Uh, I…”
Your sentence trailed off and again, the heap was silent. Against better judgment you reached out to it. Just as it was within reach it swiftly grabbed your wrist. You stared in horror at the scarred arm. Your life began to flash before your eyes, or it did until you got a glimpse of the heap.
As you tried to pull away the curtain parted enough so you could see half of a face and the prettiest eye you’d ever seen. It was a striking blue-green color with long, dark eyelashes. Strands of blonde and black hair peeked out as well. The heap released your arm and tried in vain to cover his face.
“I… I just wanted to say thank you!” you blurted out.
“You’re welcome. Now go away.”
“... Can I ask why you’re here?”
“No,” it said.
“I’ll have you know this is my property,” you said, trying to sound threatening. You felt like a bad actor. “Either you tell me or I’ll call the cops.”
It paused. “I’m resting.”
“Okay… Are you hurt?”
Maybe it was a hiker that got injured and sought refuge in the first building it saw. That seemed the most likely though it didn’t explain all the feathers.
“I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
“No. I mean, yes! Please. Leave me alone,” it said as the curtain slid down, revealing its face.
It was a man, a handsome one at that. His face was scratched up and covered in swatches of dirt. His skin was tanned, like he was someone that spent his days toiling under the kiss of the sun. His hair was a disaster, blonde and black strands sticking up like he’d just woken up from a neverending nap. Your starry-eyed expression seemed to make him realize the curtains were no longer obscuring every part of him.
“Dammit,” he whimpered.
Your heart was caught in your throat. You needed to focus on something else, something other than him and his arresting beauty.
“Y—you know those curtains are pretty gross. I wouldn’t wrap myself up in them… Just saying.”
He looked away from you and stared at the ground.
“I don’t have any other options.”
“Okay I get that, but those curtains are still beyond disgusting.”
The man narrowed his eyes before letting the curtains drop. You only got a brief glimpse of his beaten body before a mass of wings appeared and shielded himself from you. They were made of the same iridescent feathers that littered the church.
“Ow.”
Blood still clung to many of them. You tried your best to stay calm.
“So you are hurt.”
“It’s not like you can do anything about it. Now leave me alone. I’ll be gone soon.” His stern voice gave way to a whinier one. “I hope.”
“Are you, like, waiting on someone?”
“Oh yes,” he sneered. “I’m waiting for my brethren to pick me up. They should be here any day now. I just have to wait for the sound of their herald.”
“No need to be hostile. You are in my chapel.”
“And? I’m one of your God’s messengers.”
You gulped. You never thought you’d be in the presence of a literal angel. After your father died you “turned your back on God” and dissolved the congregation much to the chagrin of the parishioners. You didn’t see any reason to continue on. Scripture was nonsense and served to remind you of the things you lacked, namely your father.
The angel peeked out from behind his wings.
“Ha. Can’t beat that, can you?” he asked with a weak smile.
“I guess not… How long will you be here?”
“Don’t know,” he said before wincing.
He looked tired. You weren’t sure if angels needed to sleep or not, but resting certainly wouldn’t hurt. Carting him to your apartment crossed your mind, but there was no way you could explain his presence to your neighbors. If you lived in a city, you could probably get away with it. But small towns weren’t made for secrets and strange men.
“Stop staring,” he said before a small wing appeared, hiding his face. “Ouch.”
“Does that hurt?”
“Does what hurt?”
“Uh, like, having your wings out.”
“It’s excruciating.”
“You can put them away then. It’s not like I haven’t seen a naked body before.”
The angel let out a heavy sigh as the feathers fell and the bones seemed to melt away. His arms were torn up and covered in cuts, his left arm was practically ripped to shreds. One of his clavicles was broken so badly the bone had torn through his skin. His legs were much like his arms and riddled with cuts. Pillowy yellow fat spilled from one of the deeper ones. A wisps of iridescent feathers still clung to various parts of his broken body.
He held his legs close to his chest, trying to hide as much of himself as possible, and looked up at you like a neglected puppy.
“Who did this to you?” you asked.
He laughed, the fakest one you had ever heard. “The ground.”
Prying crossed your mind, but you doubted he’d be truthful. A strong gust blew through the church, the cold drilling itself into your skin. You dug your hands into the pockets of your coat as your body began to fold in on itself. You were never one to successfully withstand the cold.
It seemed the angel wasn’t either, if his whimpering was anything to go by. You straightened your back and cleared your throat.
“Here,” you said, pulling off your coat. You squatted down next to him and draped it over his shoulders. It didn’t offer much coverage, but the thought was there. “I can’t stand seeing someone look so miserable.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, smiling weakly.
“You’re supposed to say thank you.”
The apples of his cheeks flushed pink and he bashfully thanked you. It was astounding how cute he was. You found yourself lost in his eyes; they looked like perfectly polished turquoise. Every aspect of him drew you in. You weren’t sure if it was because of his angelic nature. You couldn’t remember if they were capable of being so bewitching.
He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with your staring. Your skin grew hot the second you realized this.
“Fuck. I guess I’m the one that’s sorry now, huh?”
He smiled weakly once more.
“It’s fine,” he said before looking out one of the windows. “The sun’s going to set soon. You should get going.”
You nervously scratched the base of your skull. “I feel kind of weird leaving you here in… this state,” you said, eyes fixed on his busted collarbone. “Let me, uh, you know… help you.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to.”
“I’m more trouble than I’m worth.”
“Most things in my life can be described like that and it has yet to stop me.”
You reached out and wiped away some of the dirt on his cheek with the pad of your thumb. You usually weren’t so gutsy but you felt overwhelmingly compelled. You need to help this man, this angel.
“Do you have a name?”
“Vash.”
“Cute. Shit. Cool. I mean, nice to meet you,” you said before telling him your name.
He repeated your name under his breath and your stomach was aflutter. You wanted to hear him say it over and over again. You inhaled deeply and tried to compose yourself. You stood up and gazed down at the nude heap of a man that sat in front of you.
“Come home with me. You’ll be more comfortable.”
“I’d rather stay here.”
You furrowed your brow. You weren’t confident in your ability to persuade him. You didn’t want to press too hard and scare him off.
“Fine. But I’m coming back tomorrow with some clothes. Maybe a blanket. Food too. Wait… Do you even eat?”
“I eat. I don’t have to, but I like to.”
“What should I bring you?”
His eyes widened and seemed to sparkle.
“Doughnuts.”
“Noted.”
“And pizza.”
You giggled. “Anything else?”
“Nope,” he said with a grin, flashing his pointy canine teeth.
After a restless night’s sleep, you set out to gather supplies. You went to a thrift store and grabbed a bunch of shirts that seemed like they’d fit Vash’s lithe yet toned body. You bought a few pairs of pants that looked long, and briefly stared down an old and opened pack of men’s underwear. You wouldn’t dare bring him such a cursed item. He was an angel after all. You didn’t want to inadvertently get on his shit list. He would just have to go commando.
Your next stop was the grocery store where you bought a sizable first aid kit and dozen doughnuts of varying flavors. You couldn’t parse out his taste so you decided to go a little overboard. If anyone deserved to be spoiled, it was him. You wanted him to be comfortable, to be at ease.
The drive up the mountain was peaceful. But the sky was gradually becoming speckled with blotchy, grey clouds.
“I’m back,” you said in a sing-song voice as you entered the chapel.
You walked down the aisle in between the pews and found Vash where you had left him last night. He was asleep under the musty curtain and was using your jacket as a makeshift pillow. You put down your bags and squatted beside him.
“Hey,” you said, running your hand over his dirty hair.
His eyes fluttered open, his expression was of momentary terror before he realized it was only you.
“Hi,” he yawned.
“No pizza, but! I have doughnuts and some clothes. I don’t know your size so I just grabbed a bunch of shit.”
“Thank you,” he said, sitting up slowly. You were happy to see that his collarbone was no longer piercing his skin. All that remained was a dark scar.
He reached for the bag and pulled the clothes out, expressing zero interest in them. His eyes lit up when he saw the pink box and eagerly took it out of the bag. He almost looked a little teary eyed.
“I also didn’t know what flavor you liked so I—”
He shoved a glazed cruller into his mouth. “I like all kinds,” he replied, voice muffled by his full mouth.
He swallowed and beamed. He had one of those smiles that could melt the heart of even the coldest person.
“Thank you,” he said, pulling out a chocolate doughnut from the box.
“No problem. I—”
Before you could finish your sentence a droplet of water landed on the tip of your nose.
“Fuck,” you muttered.
Looking up at the hole in the ceiling you saw that the sky was now an unforgiving and darkened grey. You tossed your head back and groaned. Your mind was assaulted with a cascade of thoughts.
I hate driving in the rain. The road back has so many hairpin turns. He can’t stay here. Not like he can stay with me though. I guess I could leave him. But I’m sick of running from everything. What if the entire ceiling caves in? What’ll happen to him? What would dad do?
You knew he wouldn’t leave an angel behind to rot in his chapel that was for sure.
“Something wrong?” Vash asked before biting into a maple bar.
“Come home with me.”
“What? No way.”
“You can’t stay here. Not in the rain. You’ll be miserable.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ve already caused you enough trouble.”
“You don’t get to decide that,” you snapped. “Now get dressed. You’re coming with me.”
You kept your sentences short and firm. You didn’t want to give him any room to weasel his way out of your demands. There was no way in hell you were going to let this battered angel suffer. His protesting meant nothing to you.
Vash winced as the rain worked its way into his wounds.
“Well when you put it like that,” he said as he eased his way up from the cold and unforgiving floor.
You averted your eyes, making a conscious effort not to stare. The urge was there, an ever present annoyance, but you looked everywhere else. The hole in the ceiling. The decaying floors. The rain tapping at the windows. When you finally looked at him he was dressed. The white button-down wasn’t a perfect fit; the oversized nature of it made him look even more fragile. And the pants were too short, the hems just barely covering his shins.
“Do I look stupid?”
“You look like… I had no idea what I was doing while I was shopping,” you laughed. “C’mon. Let’s go before it starts pouring.”
You held out your hand and immediately felt like an idiot. He was an angel. Would someone like him ever need assistance from someone like you?
Surprisingly, he took your hand. His palms were big and rough, fingers long and graceful. Your heart pounded in your chest as you led him out of the chapel. You couldn’t stop thinking about his hands caressing your shoulders and how lovely a sensation it must be. You sighed in relief once you saw your car, immediately unlocking it. He went to get in the backseat and you stifled a laugh.
“You don’t wanna sit up front?”
“Do you want me to?”
You hated him for asking. Of course you wanted him to, but you didn’t want to have to actually disclose that.
“I’ll feel like a chauffeur if you sit in the back,” you replied, purposefully avoiding his question.
He smiled, eyes narrowed, a teasing expression. He wasn’t stupid and you were a bad actor. Wordlessly he got in the passenger seat much to your relief.
The drive itself wasn’t all that bad, but still you were consumed with anxiety. Vash kept his face glued to the window, looking outside at the redwoods that embraced the mountain. His inattention gave you plenty of time to craft an excuse as to why he was with you in the first place.
“If anyone asks, and I’m really hoping no one will, say we went to college together,” you said, hands clenching the steering wheel.
“Hm?” he said, redirecting his attention. He gazed at you, eyes trained on your lips. “What were you saying?”
“I—uh. If anyone… Be normal.”
“Normal?”
“Ye—yeah. Normal.”
“Should I say I’m your boyfriend?”
“What?! No!”
“Is that not normal?”
“It’s… ugh. Technically! I guess!”
“So I can say that then?”
“No. Say something else.”
“Something else.”
You spent the last twenty minutes of the drive feeling vaguely nauseous and mildly sweaty.
The two of you managed to make it to your apartment door without running into anyone. You hurriedly tried to unlock it, only to drop the key because of your impatience.
“Hello,” you heard Vash say cheerily.
You turned around in horror and saw your landlord. He merely nodded and waddled out of sight.
“Nice to meet you! I’m their boyfriend!” Vash shouted after him.
“What is wrong with you?” you growled, shoving the key into the lock.
You swung the door open and pulled the obnoxious angel inside.
He stood bashfully in your living room. “What? It was funny.”
“Hardly,” you hissed.
Your annoyance with him was gone as fast as it came. He somehow looked more exhausted and battered surrounded by the comfort of your home. How could you hold even a pinch of resentment for someone in his state and of his stature? The right thing to do was ease his misery, not stoke its flames.
“You should shower. You’d probably feel better.”
“I don’t think I can stand that long.”
“Bath?”
“With my luck I’d fall asleep and drown.”
“What if I help?”
He appeared to be deep in thought. “That’ll work.”
You led him into the bathroom and ran a hot bath. Steam filled the bathroom. The warmth was welcome on such a harsh and rainy night. Vash got undressed and lowered himself into the water. He let out a pleased groan, one that made your brain stop functioning.
You buried your lewd thoughts into the depths of your mind and sat on the edge of the tub, guiding Vash so he was positioned in between your legs. Suddenly you were plagued with shyness.
“Ah, um, co—could you dunk your head?” you asked timidly.
He obliged, sliding further into the tub and submerging himself in the bathwater. He shut his eyes and lingered underneath its weight. His face was solemn.
“Oh—okay. You can come up now,” you said.
He opened one of his eyes and smiled. He sat up. His wet hair slicked back leaving face on full display. You swallowed hard and squirted some shampoo into your hand.
“Let me know if it gets in your eyes.”
“Don’t you worry. I’ll scream like a little girl.”
You laughed, probably harder than you should have. But you felt obligated to. He was trying so hard to keep up this thin facade.
You worked the shampoo into his hair, letting the silky strands slide between your fingers.
“Smells nice,” he murmured.
“Thanks…”
An awkward silence enveloped the room. Neither of you knew what to say, what subject to broach. You focused on massaging his scalp, washing away every bit of blood and dirt. Every so often he broke out into a delighted hum.
“That feel good?” you asked, scratching the back of his head.
“Yesssss,” he moaned.
You choked on your own spit.
“Are you okay?” he asked worriedly.
“Yeah! I mean, yeah. Yeah. Yes. Uh, I need to—to rinse. Dunk your head again.”
He slid further into the tub, but he kept his face above the water. The soap spread through the water, encircling his head like a halo. He stared up at you, eyes still doe-like but now with a piercing quality. Silence filled the room once more.
“Is there something on my face?”
“What?” he said, eyes softening. “Oh! No, I was just staring.”
You didn’t know how to respond to his bluntness.
“You’re very beautiful.”
You felt dizzy, like the world was spinning around you.
“Th—thank you. Uh.” You lifted his head out of the water, unable to use your words. He followed your lead and sat back up. “You can wash your body, right? I can get your back. But… you should… probably do the rest.”
“I think I can manage.”
You got up and grabbed a fluffy washcloth off your bathroom counter.
“If it hurts—”
“I’ll let you know,” he chuckled.
You smiled nervously and wetted the wash cloth, squeezing out a generous amount of body wash into it. You looked at his back and the wounds that covered it. As you began to bathe him his shoulders tensed up. It didn't take long for the washcloth to tinge pink. His discomfort made you feel like there was a hole in your chest.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” he whimpered.
“How do you plan on getting back?”
“Back to where?”
“To heaven.”
“I don’t,” he said solemnly.
Again you were unsure how to respond. You wrung out the washcloth and handed it to him. You watched as he washed his arms and nearly fell to the floor when he lifted one of his long legs out of the water.
“You can stay here as long as you want. You know that, right?”
“I don’t want to intrude.”
“You wouldn’t—”
“Please. Don’t.”
“But you have nowhere else to go!”
“I’d be putting you in harm’s way,” he said, the sweetness gone from his voice. “It’s for your own good.”
How could he know what was good for you? You considered pressing him for more details, but his comfort trumped your curiosity.
“I just want to help you,” you muttered. “That’s all.”
He said nothing.
“I’ll… grab you a towel.”
You got out of the tub and left the bathroom, looking for any excuse to step away. You were caught between your need for answers and your need to keep him calm, to let him feel safe. Tears welled up in your eyes, not from sadness but frustration. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You weren’t sure what it was supposed to be, but you knew this wasn’t what you wanted for him.
As you searched for a towel your brain was overwhelmed with questions.
Who is he to decide what is and isn't for my own good? What harm is going to seek me out if he stays? How can I get him to stay? What will it take? What am I willing to give?
Your concentration was obliterated by the sound of him getting out of the tub. You grabbed a towel from your linen closet and returned to the bathroom.
“Here,” you said, handing him the towel.
As soon as he took it from his hand you turned and moped to your bedroom. You got undressed and threw on an oversized t-shirt. You planned on letting him sleep in your bed. You would take the couch even though it was uncomfortable to sleep on.
“Do you have something I can sleep in?”
You froze. You absolutely did not. You stumbled over to your dresser and searched for something, anything. He approached, standing beside you as you frantically looked.
“Those might fit,” he said, pointing at a pair of black running shorts.
He tried them on and they did indeed fit though the tip of his cock poked out. You pretended like you didn’t notice.
“I was thinking you could sleep in my bed.”
“That sounds good to me. Fair warning though, I’ll probably end up cuddling you.”
“I… I’m not… I’m gonna be on the couch.”
“Oh,” he said dejectedly.
“Did you want me to sleep with you?”
He blushed.
“I mean like… sleep-sleep,” you clarified.
He laughed. “Yeah! Of course. I knew… I knew what you meant.”
Your awkwardness was rubbing off on him. The two of you crawled into bed, leaving a sizable amount of space between your bodies. You were on your back, staring up at the ceiling, and failed at trying to will yourself unconscious.
You glanced over at Vash who seemed to be doing the same, except he was shivering.
“Are you cold?”
“A little,” he said.
You rolled over and closed the gap. You draped an arm over him and rested your head on his shoulder. You held him close to your body, hoping he could leech away some of your warmth.
“I should have covered you in band-aids.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.”
“I’m more worried about my sheets.”
“I see how it is. I don’t matter anymore?”
“Yeah. That’s why I’m holding you. I don’t care about you at all.”
He snorted and wrapped his arm around you. The weight of it against your back made your heart pound. Making a move on him crossed your mind, but you were crippled by your inaction.
“Not comfortable,” he grumbled before turning to face you.
He pulled you into his embrace, arms snaking around your body. Your face was buried in the crook of his neck, lips practically touching it. You were coming out of your skin; being so close to him left you spiraling. The likelihood of you ending up in a position like this again was slim. It was clear he had no intention of staying. If he turned you down it wasn’t like you’d have to face your failure for long.
You pressed your lips closer to his neck and kissed it. He slid one of his hands under your shirt and rubbed the small of your back. His rough palm against your flesh felt superb. You kissed his neck once more before you started to suck on it, grazing his skin with your teeth. His breathing grew heavy.
“I have no idea what I’m doing,” he blurted out.
“What do you mean?” you asked, lips still pressed to his neck.
“I’ve never done anything like this.”
“It’s fine. I don’t care,” you said, grinding up against him.
“Really?”
“Yes,” you cooed.
You cupped his face in your hands and kissed him, catching his bottom lip between yours. Your noses awkwardly bumped up against each other. You forced him to tilt his head. You slipped your tongue into his mouth, teasing his. He eagerly reciprocated, rolling his tongue against yours. The kiss grew sloppier, more desperate. Drool trickled down your jaw.
You rubbed his exposed cocktip, swirling around the precum that leaked from it. He moaned in your mouth before breaking the kiss. He wasn’t able to quiet himself and you could listen to him whimper all night.
“You like that?”
“Yes,” he choked out, his eyes half-lidded.
You smirked and sucked your fingers clean.
“Lay on your back,” you purred.
He didn’t even hesitate as he swiftly moved into position. You pulled down the shorts you lent him and stared down his semi hard cock. You flicked your tongue against the tip.
He let out a pathetic moan. You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. His brows were knitted in agony and he was trying to shut himself up with the back of his hand.
“You don’t need to be embarrassed,” you said while stroking the length of his cock.
You gently squeezed his balls and relished in another one of his pained moans. You guided his cock into your mouth and rolled your tongue against the underside of it. You bobbed your head, taking his cock deeper into your mouth. He groaned and bucked his hips. The sweet taste of precum coated your tongue. His cock was so leaky, so needy. He covered the entirety of his face with his hands.
“It feels so good,” he panted, his voice muffled.
“Oh yeah?”
He nodded.
“You wanna fuck me?” you asked, arching your back.
He slightly sat up and looked down at you.
“Yes,” he whimpered.
You got up and straddled him. You wrapped your hand around his cock and rubbed it up against your throbbing clit. He grabbed a hold of your hips, his grip tight. Your legs felt like jelly as pleasure washed over you in waves. You lifted yourself up and slid his cock inside you.
“Oh my God,” he groaned as your cunt tightened around him.
The tip of his cock prodded your cervix, sending a shooting pain to your core.
“Ouch!!”
He sat up and cradled your face in his hands.
“What?! Are you okay?! What did I do?!”
“Too much too soon,” you said through gritted teeth. “But it’s fine. We—we’ll just take it slow.”
“Okay. Okay,” he repeated.
He lifted you off of his cock and gently rocked his hips, easing it back inside you.
“Perfect,” you moaned.
You matched his movements, careful not to jam the entirety of his cock into your cunt. You placed your hands on his chest, pinching his nipples between your fingers.
“Hey!”
“Sorry,” you laughed before biting his neck.
“Ke—keep doing it,” he stammered, caught up in a haze of ecstasy.
You again pinched his nipples, harder than you had before. You sucked on his neck, determined to leave behind a bruise, something to remember you by. His pace was becoming a little more urgent, his thrusts growing more intense.
“Gentle,” you groaned.
Your cunt was dripping with arousal.
“What would God think about this?” you asked. You bit down on your bottom lip and awaited his answer.
“I don’t want to think about it.”
“C’mon,” you begged, rocking your hips.
“He—He.” Vash took a deep breath. “He’d be really—shit—disappointed.”
“Would he send me to hell?”
“I don’t know,” he whined. “I can’t think about that right now.”
You tightened your cunt around his cock.
“But I wanna know. Tell me how bad I am.”
He buried his face in your neck. He clearly didn’t want to play along and you didn’t want to push it any further. His thrusts were picking up in speed as he bottomed out. His cock kissed your cervix, but it thankfully didn’t hurt this time around.
“Your cock feels so good,” you moaned.
He held you close and continued to fuck your aching cunt. You felt so light, body and soul. It was like you were ascending, leaving the world behind. You grabbed one of his hands and directed him to rub your clit. His touch was anything but gentle as he roughly pressed up against your sensitive bud.
“Fuck! Please, don’t stop.”
He was more than happy to obey. He kissed you as you came, swallowing your enraptured moans. He continued to thrust, your cum coating his cock. His groaning and whimpering overtook the room, the most heavenly symphony you experienced.
“Are you gonna come too?” you cooed in his ear.
“Uh-huh,” he panted.
“Wanna come inside me?”
“Yeah,” he whined.
Vash bucked his hips and spurts of warm cum filled your cunt. He reclined, taking you down with him. He released you from his embrace and you rolled over onto your back.
“So… What did you think?”
“I liked it a lot. Maybe even too much.”
You giggled. “I’m glad.”
You glanced over at him and noticed he was staring at you with his big, puppy dog eyes.
“Can we cuddle?”
He nodded and laid on his side, spooning you. You dozed off, listening to his breathing and the rain tapping against the window. It was so peaceful, one of those moments you wanted to last a lifetime.
A loud roar cut through the air. You sprung up out of bed and covered your ears, desperate to block out the noise. It sounded like the unholy combination of a jet engine and a blaring trumpet. You felt like your head was splitting in two, like someone was smashing your skull with a mallet. You were consumed with dread, with guilt. You felt sick to your stomach.
You saw Vash sitting on the edge of your bed, staring out the window.
“What the hell is that? Was that a fucking trumpet?” you asked, rubbing your head.
“Don’t worry about it.”
You yawned. “I’m getting really sick of you saying that.”
He turned to look at you, his face pale like a ghost’s.
“Just go back to sleep.”
You reached out to him. “I need you near me to do that.”
He gave you a wistful smile and snuggled up beside you. You held onto him tight, hoping your grip would be strong enough to trap him. You didn’t want him to leave. You needed him to stay. He was in no position to wander around on his own, running from God knows what.
“Promise you’ll stay. For a little while at least.”
He was silent.
“Vash.”
His eyes were shut and he was lightly snoring. You prayed that he heard you before he fell asleep, that he would remember what you said and let you help him. There was no reason for him to carry his burden alone, whatever it might be.
That morning you were dismayed to see your grip had been too weak. He was gone. You got up out of bed and looked around, hoping he was in the bathroom or digging through your kitchen cabinets. But he was nowhere to be found. You wondered if he had ever been there in the first place. Maybe he was just a delusion, the beginnings of a religious frenzy triggered by mental collapse.
You returned to your bedroom, hoping to sleep away your misery, and saw a hastily written note on your nightstand.
I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye. I knew leaving would be impossible if I waited for you to wake up. Please don’t take it personally. I wish I could sta
Thank you. For everything.
#vash the stampede x reader#vash x reader#trigun smut#vash the stampede smut#trigun x reader#x reader#reader insert#.fics#.trigun#.vash
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Exalted Secret Santa 2023 Complete!
Thanks for another excellent year, friends. This year was actually tied for most participants to date, to the point of having some trouble formatting this post. (tumblr fears our power.)
Thanks are in order to many:
-to @theuncrucified for her work boosting on discord. All my thanks for spreading the word!
-to @delvesdaily for pinch hitting, and to everyone else so quick to volunteer.
-to @mechanicalriddle, my second-in-command and second set of eyes.
-to our longterm participants who return year after year, I am always happy to see you back.
-to newcomers who've only just arrived, you bring so much fresh life to this event. thanks for trying something new!
-to those who don't participate, but still find time and interest to comment on the pieces!
I hope we can see you all next year!
Please take the time to check out the submissions; the characters are always so cool and the art is consistently amazing. Thank you all for the hard work. Happy Calibration!
-Path
to @butch-king-frankenstein from woolymonster: Meteor King Rahu
to @caprichista from maribunart: V'neef Runai and Salu
to @delvesdaily from grimmjowjaegerjaquez: Pretty Boy
to @eatenbyfaeries from delvesdaily: Vervain
to @fiontan from frostmantle: Gale
to @fourwillows from shiftingpath: Kifimbo
to @frostmantle from hamsandlich: The Sentinel of Blasphemous Covenants Sealed in Silence
to @fullmoonspecial from fiontan: The Phoenix Knight
to @gforceworks from delvesdaily: Laughing Sister
to @grimmjowjaegerjaquez from fourwillows: Cold Fire Hunter
to @hamsandlich from paint-lady: The Seraph of Promised Silence
to @heedra from sondersonne: Daia Shan
to @keirangoldenwatch from moonstar-mush: Seren Witt
to @kessinder from sly-works: The Cultivar of Bloodied Sunsets
to @maribunart from toxinfox: Lei-xin, Ivy, and Kilani
to @mechanicalriddle from eatenbyfaeries: Pleione
to @moonstar-mush from fullmoonspecial: Spears-to-Billhooks Nazmiya
to @paint-lady from theuncrucified: The Marionette Dancing on Bloody Sinew
to @shiftingpath from caprichista: Flame-Eating Moth
to @skarchomp from keirangoldenwatch: Candor That Draws the Horseman's Blade
to @sly-works from heedra: Exquisite Toffee Spinifex
to @sondersonne from thedashingduke: The Brigand Queen of the Western Wyld
to @thedashingduke from mechanicalriddle: Komoh
to @theuncrucified from gforceworks: Kalara
to @toxinfox from kessinder: Anjali, Kaveri, and Malati
to @woolymonster from skarchomp: The Left Hand of Hell
#exalted#exalted secret santa#exalted secret santa 2023#please let me know if there are any errors in the post so i can fix quickly!#thanks again all!
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{.852.}
.:ANATOMY:.
Head: LeLutka - Ceylon
Body: Ebody - Reborn
Hair: VCO - Woonie
Head Wings: BonBon - Seraphic Headpiece *NEW* @ Equal10
.:CLOTHING:.
Halo: Moon Amore - Sacred Crows Attire *NEW* @ ACCESS
Blindfold: Silvery K - Blindfold - Black
Necklace: Aii&Ego - Last Kiss - Necklace
Gloves: RENIE - Molly Gloves
Claws: PENDULUM - Auric Claws
Outfit: RENIE - Rosary Set *NEW* @ Equal10
Nipple Chain: SoapBerry - Sloan Nipple Chain
Hip Chain: Cerberus Xing x IVY - Cake Set
Stockings: Minuit - Elise Stockings
Garters: Minuit - Eva Garter modified
Hagoromo: Aii&Ego - Heavenly Hagoromo
.:SCENE:.
Background: K&S - Eternal Veil
Pose: Core&Gore - Alankhe
#lelutka#ebody#vco#bonbon#moonamore#silveryk#aii&ego#renie#pendulum#soapberry#cerberusxing#ivy#minuit#k&s#core&gore#equal10#access#sl#slblog#slblogger#secondlife#secondlifeblog#secondlifeblogger
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Hehehe for the OC ask game!
Concept and design 08, Angel 03, Demon 05, Demon 09, Demon 10 I know you answered this one in private but I want everyone to see it too lol and Demon 11!
I wanted to ask more but I’ll wait some time later!
Thanks for making the questionnaire Melody!💚
You could have asked like half the list and I would have just been like "of course, my liege" lmao Btw cursing you with my mind for asking demon 11. The amount of trouble this question gave me >:(
And of course!! A second one is technically already in the works 👀
Also, I'm going to call Marchosias Maze here
Thank you for asking Ivy 💛💛
-> to the ask game
-> to all asks about Marchosias
⸺ CONCEPT & DESIGN 08 ⸺
Anything you heavily associate with them? A color, a word, a picture, or something else?
In addition to the things mentioned here, this shade of blue that I've been using all throughout the ask game! It's the same shade as a piece of cloth that survived from her time as an angel and that's now also part of her demon outfit!
Also, idk if this counts but @today-in-the-devildom because guess who's running it <3
⸺ ANGEL 03 ⸺
Do they sometimes sneak out to visit the other realms?
Not while she was an angel, no. It's not exactly easy to sneak out when the seraphs constantly have an eye on your every move
She hasn't been to the Celestial Realm ever since she fell, and mostly only visits the human world when she's summoned. But outside of that she prefers to stay in the Devildom. The Devildom's constant night sky just feels like home to her <3
⸺ DEMON 05 ⸺
Have they forged any pacts yet? How eager are they to do so, and do they forge them often? If they haven't, why not?
Maze has forged A LOT of pacts over her lifetime, and she's not planning on stopping anytime soon. When asked, Maze will claim it's because she just enjoys how easy it is to manipulate demons into a pact and to collect their souls, but it's actually because deep down she felt like she was somehow lacking as a demon, and forging pacts left and right was a way to make up for it
That being said, she doesn't just forge a pact with anyone. She's still picky about who to forge one with
⸺ DEMON 09 ⸺
What do they do with human souls?
While the human is still alive, they increase her powers. So with way too many pacts, you can imagine how powerful Maze has become. She might not be anywhere near being as powerful as the pactless brothers, but she is definitely a force to be reckoned with
But after they die, well... At this point, she has so many souls that she doesn't even know what to do with them anymore. The ones she likes the most she keeps in her collection--which means she concentrates the soul's energy into a small glowing crystalline form and decorates the ceilings and walls in her house with it to create her own little night sky. If she doesn't want to keep them, then she tries to get rid of them in various ways, including dumping some of them in the different circles of hell
⸺ DEMON 10 ⸺
Solomon shows up at their doorstep in the middle of the night to ask for a pact. How do they react?
Imagine the following scenario:
Solomon (drunk) is standing before her, drenched by the rain and with an utterly sopping wet expression on his face. Marchosias is standing in the doorway before him, still in her pjamas. Her face graces the most flabbergasted expression demonkind has ever mustered. Slowly and without a word from either of them, she shifts into her demon form, her tails carefully inching closer and closer toward the human, only to suddenly come crashing down on him (though she makes sure to stop right before she would actually touch him). Solomon skedaddles away and she yells after him "Yeah, that's what I fucking thought!!"
Not even 5 minutes later she runs after him to usher him inside because it's the middle of the night and it's raining and he is drunk and dammit Solomon, why are you like this, we've forged a pact before you even became immortal
⸺ DEMON 11 ⸺
What is their opinion of Diavolo as a ruler? Have they experienced the reign of any other demon kings? How does Diavolo compare in their opinion?
Exploding this question with my mind as if I wasn't the one that came up with it in the first place. Pew pew
She fully supports him in and his reign. He's definitely a bit of a dreamer, sure. But so far he has been able to follow up on most his promises, so Maze has a lot of confidence in his abilities. Plus she gets to see glimpses of how hard he works behind the scenes thanks to both her role in RAD's Newspaper Club and the people in her life that are actually close to Diavolo. So she's fully aware of all the thought, care and effort he puts into every decision he makes and that he always has the best interest of his subjects in mind
That being said, she can't help but think he's too much of a dreamer at times, especially when compared to his father, who was more of a realist and more focused on the now. Under both of their reigns things obviously got/get done. But especially when compared to his father, Maze sometimes feels like Diavolo is too caught up in the musings of the future he wishes to create, and he tends to lose sight of the Devildom's current problems as well as the denizens' concerns in the process. Most of her doubts have been eliminated by now, but they were especially present when Diavolo first took over the role as ruler. The prime example for this is how Diavolo insisted on letting the brothers stay in the Devildom after they fell, while the denizens feared a war with the Celestial Realm because of their presence
On a more personal level, Diavolo is definitely a lot more approachable than his father. He sometimes is a little too friendly and enthusiastic for her liking—whenever you try to ask him something and he gets a little too close and his smile a little too wide, for example—but she appreciates that he takes every concern of residence of the Devildom serious. He always seems so welcoming, and his charisma is actually something she is very fascinated by.
Meanwhile his father was the polar opposite. Maze fell after Diavolo's mother had died, so by then the Demon King had had already grown colder and more detached. He was still beloved by his subjects, but he also had standoffish aura about him. She only met him in person when she was a child, and because of his presence she barely even managed to get her awkward little "hello" out to which she then got an awkward little nod in return
Side note, but Maze sometimes has a bit of trouble remembering he's the ruler of the realm. While she might not be in his inner circle herself, as mentioned before, she's close to several people who are part of it. And so she gets to experience parts of his more casual (and sometimes goofy lol) side simply by happening to be around when Diavolo needs something of Mephisto, for example..........meaning it might have happened once or twice that Maze has dropped the 'Lord' when referring to Diavolo. Never in one of her articles, though!
-> to the ask game
-> to all asks about Marchosias
#thank you ivyyy 💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛#the way this was the first ask i got about her but i had to constantly push it back because of demon 11 smh#but you said that was the one you were most interested in so i wanted to make sure to give you a thorough answer#the human souls question is also so interesting. but only if you don't have to come up with an answer yourself ✌️#i just kept sitting there like “what DOES she do with human souls?? what do ANY of them do with them???”#oh and i'm also giving you the offical okay to ask about yuki but know that i hardly have her figured out DNFJGSDG#obey me oc#mel's oc marchosias#mc & oc ask game - marchosias#obey me mc & oc ask game#ask game answers#ask tag
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because i can do whatever i want forever, i did it again. tagged by myself ‼️
OCs as obscure associations:
Iska (they/she)
Animal: bull, wolf, harpy eagle
Colours: forest green, silver, gold
Month: january
Songs:
destroyer - of monsters and men
[you better run, boy, run, but be afraid / cry, boy, cry, don't play the game / gravity holds me down / and it's taking over / i call everywhere, oh, i cry out, / you're my destroyer]
altar - written by wolves
[what you've built is just designed to betray and i know / maybe i had thought of running away, and i know / i gotta let go / i can't be part of what you've built here and i know / now i know / i won't kneel at your altar / i'm not your soldier, it's over]
sun bleached flies - ethel cain
[god loves you, but not enough to save you / so, babygirl, good luck taking care of yourself / so i said fine, 'cause that's how my daddy raised me / if they strike once, then you just hit 'em twice as hard]
the wolf - phildel
[i'll never be more than a wolf at your door for dinner / and if i see you 'round like a ghost in my town, you liar / i'll leave with your head, oh i'll leave you for dead, sire]
Number: 100
Plants: moss, ivy, tree roots
Smells: cold winter air, blood, flower bouquets, forest air
Gemstone: moldavite
Time of Day: high noon
Season: winter
Weather: strong winds, hail, snowstorm
Sky: dark grey, overcast
Places: deep in the woods; resting under a tree; a clearing in the forest; an altar
Food: briám, dolma
Drinks: cinnamon whiskey, ginger tea
Seasonings: pepper, chili, parsley
Element: earth, fire
Astrological Signs: Libra, Aries
Magical Power: smiting
Weapons: greatsword
Social Media: none. whispering to the trees, wind and birds chiming back
Makeup Product: does nail polish count? black nail polish
Candy: jawbreaker
Method of long distance travel: teleportation, flying (by whatever method available)
Art Style: sketchy, lines-only
Fear: failure, letting loved ones down
Mythological Creature: Seraph (lol, a little on the nose), Fenrir
Piece of Stationery: well-used eraser
Three Emojis: 💢🗡🪽
Celestial Body:
specifically "the interloper" from outer wilds (don't google that if you plan on experiencing the game yourself, it's major spoiler territory!)
red hypergiant ("the term red hypergiant is sometimes used for the most extended and unstable red supergiants like VY Canis Majoris and NML Cygni"; [x] all red supergiants will "undergo core-collapse resulting in a supernova" [x] )
#sorry for cringely quoting so much of the songs do u still think im hot#sorry for posting abt a character that yall know like 3 facts about bc i dont ever elaborate do u still think im hot#anyway#cas.oc#oc seraph
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“Just as still waters turn foul, stagnation leads to decay. Warriors must remain ever drifting.”
- Abelas
The plan was simple: Create an opening and take advantage. That so much could have gone wrong, for so many people, wasn’t something that anyone could have predicted. Vivianne would come to blame herself, Bastien would scream and curse at the Graeae; both would ask them once and for all: why?
This is how it began.
Day 1
It started with Ganymede, jolly as ever, waltzing through the battlefield. The fighting ceased in his presence as he strode up to the gates of Dis. The necromanced giants were kind enough to let him pass as a very pleasant parade of necromeras escorted him through the burning city until he reached the base of Dis. While the Asphodel had heard of his approach, they prepared and laid a trap. Once sprung, a seraph blade pierced Ganymede's shoulder, ouchie, and bound his magic and his power. Pythia then took that opportunity to kill him personally. Death rejected him however, so a seraph blade was embedded into his chest and he was tossed into a river of lava to burn eternally.
Within the Otherworld the allied senate forces gathered: witches, vampires, druids, and humans from around the world had flocked under the banner of this united front. Magisters of the vampire order had gathered, Juno appeared alongside the two magisters that she had blessed, Mars' still living magister presented herself as well; alongside Harlow the second magister of the Venus appeared but the original herself and Mars were both absent. Elsewhere the magisters Pluto had appointed long ago were not present but in the halls of Necromanteion he lingered. Joining them were the marshals of the European monarchy and envoys from around the world. Sovereigns with their strongest witches flocked to Rome, The Ivy's pack & coven gathered together in unison, and what keepers remained of the druids made the pilgrimage to Rome with the acolytes under their charges.
The New City of Dis had been protected from view for a long time, but the greater its infernal powers grew, the more difficult it was for it to remain hidden. Trivia first closed the many gates from the Otherworld into Rome, she created a new one at the Pyramid of Cestius so that the Allied Senate Forces could strategically hold it. Trivia then lent her considerable magic to the Ivy Coven, though it weakened and mortalized her in the process. From Ivy Tower within Rome, the bulk of the coven worked remotely as they supported the Allied Forces from a distance. Formidable in strength, the Otherworld itself was a threat to the senate’s forces, but Trivia’s magic allowed them to manipulate it and lift the miasma that concealed the dark city from detection.
Handmade waxen candles were lit by an ethereal blue flame, cool to the touch. The secret process of their creation was invented by the first Narcissus sovereign from the coven’s founding during the Renaissance, each was carefully handmade by a member of their coven. Previously they had appeared at the vigil to Erik Alstroemeria, the candles drew from the power of spirits and demons alike on both sides of the veil. These candles littered the many tombs of Rome, the ruins, the graveyards, and hung about the battlefield. Tethered to the chanting of the Narcissus Coven, their sovereign Kaan, the adept Raffaele, and the watcher Efigenia alongside her familiar were either otherwise preoccupied or missing. Those that remained channelled alongside the unassigned members of the Amaranthus Coven, and the barrier was erected around the encampments of the Allied Senate Forces. In so doing, the demons subjugated or made to fight by the Asphodel would be targeted and made weaker.
Within the senate’s encampment in The Otherworld, the gateway to Rome was at their backs. Safe within the Allied Senate Force's base, they stood between the City of Dis and the city of Rome. To test the boundaries of Dis, a barrage of magically imbued projectiles fell across the barrier that protected it: warmachines designed by The Eye in conjunction with the Amaranthus Coven were to be rolled towards the city to bring down the barrier that was protecting it. Above, Uriel and Azrael attempted to enter New Dis, however even with their energy manipulation they were unable to break through.
Deep marshes surrounded New Dis, thick muck of Otherworldly swamp that was enchanted to ensnare those who wandered too deep or too far. One wrong step and it would consume even the most seasoned of soldiers; the warmachines constructed by The Eye would have to roll through this terrain and survive, while there were several, the only ones that would make it would be from those who were headed by the following squad captains: Eren, Ayla, Dionaeia, and Aren.
About the dark forest and through the marsh, berserker squads moved to flank the City of New Dis while support from the reinforcement squads came to the assault squads from both the rear and from above as they fought they would be made to fight their way forward. The forces of New Dis would not make it easy, from below the feet of the troops, the bones of all who’d been lost within the Otherworld over the many years reached out, they crawled from their watery grave, and wielded weapons and enchantments of all kinds. Avery wove a spell similar to what had been cast at the previous Halloween, since Death was still cancelled their goal was to bury those who crept towards the ground as a means of incapacitating them. Those who were lost would be dragged through the earth of the Otherworld, down unfathomable depths and into the waiting blood prisons of Necromanteion. Tepiltzin's death magic worked over these corpses and imbued them with a plague; zombies sank their teeth into any they could grab as they slowly emerged from the bog. Their goal was to infect and to turn the Allied Senate Forces against one another. Those who were bitten required immediate medical treatment at camp, or they would be forever changed.
Rolling the autonomous machines forward, the machinations groaned through the mud and the waist-deep waters of the swamp. Artillerists from the walls of New Dis took up their position as infernal weapons rained hell upon the forces within the forest. Preliminary defences were conjured from a distance: August’s necromeras that were resurrected from the Isle of the Blessed within Elysium and then subjugated, necrotic slime that oozed from barren trees and ensnared anyone that came into contact with it. Over the Allied Senate Forces, Abyssal creatures rained down upon them, they crawled from the muck, and poured through the barrier. A third of the senate’s forces had been taken already, pulled away from the battlefield or wandered off in the dead of night. Atop the walls of the City of New Dis hellfire and projectiles fell upon the advancing troops’ forces as chaos spread across the forest. From August’s twisted experiments, monsters of abominable origins surged from the city: the bloodstarved beasts, nezars, hemophages, carnexes, and stitched together animals like the lump of swine all meant to weaken and debilitate. Additionally, those who were pulled into the mud were gone for good, and those infected by August's symbiote were irreversibly changed. Bastien’s sight directed the assault, prolific mastery of his oracular abilities gave those he worked with the insight to know where to focus their attacks for maximum efficiency. Before the first day was done, Esme and Dante were both sucked into the swamp, they were not seen again outside of the Asphodel's blood prison.
Night 1
At dusk of the first day, the flowers of the pharmakis all wilted, died, and were no longer usable.
Dug into the marsh, the Allied Senate Forces made camp as the forces of New Dis swelled at the walls. Vivianne alongside the Dahlia secured the boundary from necromanced forces as they married the schools of restoration and destruction to prevent the creatures from coming any further. Further aided by The Eye's capacity to erect barriers of raw energy, no force would be able to break in. Through the night they kept up their vigil as the troupes took stock of the ground that they had gained while the healers tended to the injured and those that had expelled their pools of magic recovered.
It was just on the other side of the Pyramid’s gate that the infirmary camp and medical base had been set up by the Allied Senate Forces. Within the encampment Nettelia’s magic alongside those who were part of her support team kept the infirmed safe. Her golems patrolled the perimeter, enriched with her magic, they would restrain and debilitate rather than kill any potential threats or intruders. Those the golems restrained would be left with just enough life force that they would not be brought back by Death's spontaneous resurrection, instead they would be powerless to attack any further. The golems were living serpents of air, dragons of earth, beasts of fire, and animals of captured lightning or water.
Epimetheus’ creatures remained close at hand, not to fight but because he didn’t want them caught up in all this. He had them helping out with first aid, doing what their little animal hands could do to bandage and apply pressure while Nettelia conserved her magic. Every so often he tried to sneak out to fight but a golem would drag him back by the scruff of his neck. Isabella was already a healer who needed no instruction, but Zoey was also a vampire; it would be second nature for a vampire to use their blood to heal someone, but not knowing how long this battle would go on they were both told to conserve it and perform aid whenever possible by other means. Still a novice, Rowan’s magic was rudimentary but he did what he could to help those that came in from the field. A healer and capable scryer, Gabriel worked in conjunction with support teams to recover people from the field and bring them safely to the Pyramid if they couldn't do so themselves.
Zagreus mimicked Nettelia and after over a month of practice he learned to use some of her transference to heal injuries without endangering his own life. Isla, Sanem, and Renfield were medically trained but their priority was offering support via The Eye’s technologies. The careful diagnosis of curses, the application of removing them, how to administer cutting edge inoculations to counteract effects or heal injuries entirely. It was their role to coordinate medical support units, and aid those who came back wounded.
Below, The Eye’s secret base of operations had been built under the encampment as Ephraim, Sabina, and Sanem stayed in contact with the troops and coordinated from beneath the medical encampment. Connected to The Eye’s technology, Sabina’s power was extended to every member of the Allied Senate Forces. Ephraim coordinated with the ground troops, and directed them into position as he gathered the information collected from the support troops and autonomously synched it through his neural implants from The Eye. Linked through memory projection, Sabina relayed the fall of the first two squads and those responsible, as well as the necessary supports that were needed across the battlefield. Those that were injured, those that were in need of saving, and those that the supporting members of the forces would need to help. Marco cooked up a storm, he used his chef skills to restore the magic and strength of those that came rolling in from the field.
Lightning struck Rowan while he was out for a smoke break and it killed him instantly, though he got up again a short while later: rejected by Death.
Day 1
Within the New City of Dis the necromancers were well prepared. While the generals had not yet entered the fray, there were a series of traps placed and enchantments ready that waited to ensnare the Allied Senate Forces. From Necromanteion’s summit, the Necronomicon lay open as Levent, Bastien, August, Lucretia, Kaan, Yurena, and Tepiltzin conducted their dark ritual while Pythia led them through the spell. As far underground as the tower was high, in the bowels of necromanteion, Efigenia, Harellan, and Avery worked independently from the others with a group of blood witches, their familiars not far away. Within the tower, Enfenim, Nashoba, and Arakhor monitored for potential intruders. The necromancers at the summit had gathered the blood of The First; The Golden Seal that had built the Inferno and locked its gates tightly shut, and with the power that they had amassed they aimed to pull it down.
Night 1
Kaan’s information was sound and his wards had been placed; within Rome Michael, Keket, Octavian, Tisiphone, Eoin, Hazal, Nathan, Emory, and Evy gathered to head straight into the heart of Necromanteion. Once within they would interrupt the necromancers’ ritual, take them by surprise, and destroy the book in the process. With Kaan’s blood the door was made active and Nathan was able to use his ability to open the gate, however instead of bringing them to Necromanteion’s summit like they’d been told, the nine of them were at the tower’s lowest level. It was too late to go back now, and again with the cambion’s ability Nathan masked their presence, an effect that he could sustain so long as they remained within close proximity. Otherwise the many infernal denizens of New Dis would fall upon them in an instant.
Through the tower the nine wandered, Michael and Tisiphone took the lead as Keket used her magic to alert them if anyone was approaching. The seraphim dispatched each with ease, a quick blade through the chest and the demon, abyssal entity, or necromancer was quickly incapacitated as Emory, Nathan, Eoin, or Hazal sealed them away. Death was still rejecting everyone, the most effecting means of ensuring they wouldn't rise again was to pin them with a seraph blade and magically bind them.
Even from within Necromanteion they heard the battle outside the walls, they felt the city quake as the magical assault struck the boundaries over and over again. This should have been over already and if Kaan’s information was accurate then the ritual would be nearly complete. The team moved efficiently up the tower but it was a great distance to climb, and they were expected. An abominable cold crept across the stones, and climbed its way over the flaming tomb that was Dis; the team felt a chill creep into the very core of their being and Octavian burned through it in an instant, restless and eager to get the book for himself as he pushed onward, though he burned through Nathan’s magic in the process. Octavian was pursued by the rest of the group, Enfenim and Arakhor’s distraction was successful. Before anyone could see what had happened Nathan had gone missing and would not be seen again outside of the Asphodel's Blood Prison. Immediately exposed, the many Abyssal denizens of New Dis sensed the intrusion and flocked towards the tower.
Octavian, Tisiphone, and Michael rushed forward and throttled the chambers’ defences; those that guarded the door were sent flying and were left to be dealt with by Keket, Emory, Hazal, Evy, and Eoin. A pair of cold hands landed on the shoulders of Octavian and and Michael as a woman, Lilith, suddenly stood between them. Completely undetectable and truly invisible, she’d been following them since Rome; she had taken some amusement in how they bumbled their way through the dark, but this was as far as their plan went. A single word fell from Lilith’s lips: Sleep. She'd placed a hand one either shoulder and the two men collapsed onto the ground and Lilith, completely shrouded once again, stepped off to the side. She laughed because she couldn’t help herself, then said another word that was echoed by the creatures that defended the room and all those within: Keket.
Kaan, aware that things were going sidewise, grew desperate as Tisiphone flung open the doors: she was the senate’s last current hope of destroying the Necronomicon once and for all. Pythia spared Kaan a single glance, and his limbs were quickly bound. Painfully contorted with his magic shielded from use, when he looked up he saw Raffaele and Jian bound in chains. Tepiltzin’s hand raised towards the traitor as the liche held the witch in place. Tisiphone lunged but was alone and deflected with ease: she was too late, they were all too late, the ritual was interrupted but the Asphodel was not stopped. August looked to Emory and tutted, the latter had signed a contract, with a snap of his fingers Emma crumpled to the ground on the battlefield. Dead. She’d died long before Death had started cancelling people, a convenient loophole. The Allied Senate Forces were each shielded from using their power before they were almost all sent to the Asphodel’s prison far below. They could not die but there were fates far worse than death.
Tisiphone and Keket remained, the latter’s blood was too precious to be tossed into a cage with the rest of the rabble, and Tisiphone would be made to witness what would happen next. Immortal and undying, Keket was dragged towards the necronomicon to be strung up and drained. None, however, were more familiar with the former hollowborn’s weaknesses than she: Keket was incapable of attacking them in her current state but she had planned ahead and set radial bombs to detonate. Invisible to the naked eye, they had floated into the room the moment the doors had opened. They exploded in great bursts of light, Keket used the distraction and wrangled free before she ran and flung herself from the tower.
Order was quickly restored, the others were not able to escape. Kaan had betrayed the necronomicon and since he wanted out, Pythia gave him a choice. August and Lucretia stood on either side of the sacrifices, if The Sacrifice wished to leave, then he had to kill his heart to undo the contract he’d made with the necronomicon. Kaan refused and both Jian and Raffaele were butchered and fed to the book, their flesh and souls consumed, alive but in the worst sense of the word.
The ritual to open the Gates to the Inferno would need to begin again, but they did not require everyone's efforts to open the Gates to the Inferno, once Efigenia and Avery had completed their task, this would be their next missie. For now, the necromancers at Necromanteion's summit would focus on the forces that scratched at their hills. A seraph blade embedded within Octavian prevented him from the use of any power, Lucretia looked at her father’s state with grim satisfaction and with the help of the necronomicon she stole his druidic blessing from him entirely and left the perfect phoenix as nothing more than a mortal man. His power was now her own, now when the dragon breathed it would expel the phoenix's coveted flame. Pluto emerged from the shadows, he had watched the entirety of the conflict as unseen as Lilith, loyal to Kore and therefore loyal to the Asphodel. They were followers of Persephone and therefore he was incapable of harming them even if he wanted to.
Beneath them, in Necromanteion’s lowest levels, Efigenia and Avery stitched together sinew and restored the remains of one that had been long dead. Harellan worked over the matter of the mind, the powers of all three enhanced by the power of the necronomicon. Upon a slab of stone, an altar to the dark, the body of the dead spartoi Cthonius had been restored. When they were concluded, Harellan returned to Rome to take up their position within the city in 'defence' of Mutat Domun. The pair of necromancers that remained channelled power from the Necronomicon at the Nectomanteion's summit, all the way down to its Abyssal depths, all to break open the seals that held the Inferno shut.
All through the night the Asphodel assaulted the barriers that protected the Allied Senate Forces. While nothing could physically get in, darklings screamed into the mind's eye of the troops. Some shrieked and fled into the night, outside the boundary where the pitch black dark of the Otherworld consumed them; never to be seen again. Dreams were also easily invaded, Bastien walked amidst them and weathered their spirits as he sewed the foretelling of their imminent doom into their subconscious. A fog crept into the encampment, it spilled nearly unseen from the blue candles that channelled the spirits and demons around them. Tepiltzin's will and death magic curved its way like a serpent into the throats and minds of those within. Quickly members of the Allied Senate were possessed as the puppeteer tore through the encampment before the bodies could be restrained and exorcised.
Overhead the Allied Senate Forces were denied any rest, Lucretia's flames beat down upon the boundary and tore apart the magic that held it together. Fortunately, The Eye's fields compensated long enough for the witches' barrier to recover but not before Uriel and Azrael were able to slip inside to try to leverage the Allied Senate Forces' position to aid their goal of getting into the City of New Dis, unseen, Pluto moved in behind them; he had allies on all sides. Wrenched from the Isle of the Blessed, Thetis walked once more, and pulled from the ninth circle, Silas had been resurrected. Necromanced by August, the pair of ghouls and so many others were feral, possessed of monstrous strength, bloodthirsty, and loyal to his commands. They screamed through the fog for Eren and Vivianne.
While these monsters and spells tormented the Allied Senate Forces, they did not last, the Ivy from their remote location would dispel the magic sometime after it was conjured. However, after a short period fresh necromantic spells would replace them. As the necromancers worked over the summit into the night, Yurena and Levent retired to conserve their strength. They urged the others to do the same but the Necronomicon gave them all the strength and stamina they would ever need. This fight was not what either had signed on for. Kaan, broken and bound, was spirited away to safety in the dead of night.
Day 2
The siege would continue through the following day, the warmachines would push forward, though Lucretia retreated from the skies and rejoined the others at Necromanteion's summit.
Day 2
Above the court of drow the sky had darkened to pitch, the furious sound of beating wings was deafening. Somniar had located and subjugated each of the broodmothers on this side of the Otherworld, the stymphalian that served them now served him as they swarmed. In the sky over the court Somniar unveiled his pride and joy, a brainstealer dragon. Elsewhere mindflayers, and gnome ceremorphs patrolled the streets alongside the mindwitness, mozgriken, tzakandi, uchuulon, and the urophion. Somniar monitored everything under the protection of his brain golems, and nyraala golems. Intellect devourers patrolled the outskirts of his lair, while a great number of his cranium rats gathered within the catacombs of Rome, prepared to strike. Flanked by the oblexes he had created, there were a few stationed within the catacombs ready to greet those that wandered within. Into the midst of the Roman fray, Rhovanor was sent out in the hopes that he might be able to weaken the opposing forces or prove himself in some way; the flayed’s directive was clearly made to him that if he did so then he would be rewarded.
In the sanctity of Lloth’s high temple, Nyloth and her fellow members of the priesthood began their dark sacrament to The Weaver. Her most favoured, Nyloth’s devotion was unparalleled as she made her ask of the dark, with her ring of eternal night she held the moon in her hands and had the power to blot out the sun itself. Under its harsh rays the drow were without any strength, Rome believed they were safe during the day, they were wrong.
Within the lair of the brilliant artificer, Severon had worked tirelessly for months to perfect his autonomous design. The product of centuries of research and innovation, they were what his efforts would at last yield. His aim was to unlock the secrets of the soul, to create true life where otherwise there had been none. The Gods had a device that they could power for such things, the seraphim were their proof of that, souls that were made for a purpose: to serve. Adatiel had provided him with the blueprint, within the confines of her cell she’d been drawn out time and time again as he tested her and scanned the grace that lurked beneath the surface of her being. While that was something that he could not touch, it was what manipulated the force that was of interest to him: her soul. With the completion of his own machine that would craft a soul from the power Felandaris' towers provided, his mission was at last complete; the army of drow mech marched forth, aided by a trio of his most prized creations: the wormcoil engines. Because of the nuisance of cancelled death, a third autonomous being had been made, one specially skilled in binding to its target and constricting them indefinitely: metal slime (patent pending).
Faerinaal prepared the drow’s military forces, once again they would go to battle and once again their conquest would be a success. This was a familiar path for the drow, but one that he took to with ease and resolve. Intelligence from the Inquisitor supported that the Fairy King had taken the bait and would meet them in Rome as their chosen field of battle. The drow knew that Meryasek harnessed a new power, and that his forces had grown slightly because of his people's recent expeditions, but it was a small matter. Soratami airships, tech, and automatons supported Faerinaal’s troops alongside all those that the drow had conquested over the years. So, with gleeful anticipation, the Founder waited for the Queen of the Drow to order the assault.
Within the Dark beneath the Court of Drow, Amadeus gathered his creatures from the shadows. Subjugated beasts that had not been tamed in the manner that Somniar was known for, but tamed in the manner that subservience demanded. Loyal dogs in the form of goblins, akephaloi, hellhounds, kelpies, satyrs, pixies, wyverns, ursas, eldritch changelings, pegasi, and more. Brought under his control they were his to command. The beastmaster and master of the Dark, Amadeus emerged riding on the back of a wyrm of fire: an ancient beast the drow had unearthed and tamed during his recent expeditions.
Great gates had been constructed about the city, eight in total with thirteen towers that encompassed the court of drow. Built from the powerful stone that the court sat upon, these Otherworldly towers were of a superior design meant to distil the magic of the stars above and the paragons below. Felandaris gathered their strength alongside the sorcerers that he commanded, a fraction of the drow’s fighting forces had been brought alongside Ayi'ig, but the long game would at last come to fruition. Each of their great cities within the Underdark had these gates constructed and each were powered autonomously as the energy was gathered to do so. While the soratami conquest had not yielded much to him, they had helped resolve the issue of sustaining the gates so that lesser enchanters might also use them. The gates opened, and the hordes of drow: ogres, goblins, cyclops, trolls, and all manner of creatures from the Underdark joined them. In gleeful anticipation, Felandaris met Queen Ayi’ig as she departed the castle to join her great army.
Riding on the back of Nidhogg and accompanied by The Executioner and Felandaris, Queen Ayi’ig appeared in full battle regalia. Had Meryasek simply turned himself over to her, then the fey as a whole would have been left alone and this would not have come to pass. The theft of Aegnor and the drow hunts that had occurred at the hands of eladrins however would not be tolerated. The fey’s sloppy work was the most egregious of crimes under the teachings of Lloth. This court was the home of the drow now and with the subjugation of the eladrins their empire would finally be complete.
A marvel of soratami engineering, above Rome the flying city appeared, blotting out the sky entirely as the siege began.
Day 2
Aware that Rome would be where the Drow would attack, the fey prepared to meet them on this chosen field of battle.
Amidst Spring’s gardens the proto-ambrosia, Zahrya’s blood fruits, had come to fruition. Changelings feasted on them alongside the common-blooded eladrins to bolster their power, even if only temporarily. Creatures of the feywild grew exponentially in strength as the youth of the courts were sequestered away under the watchful eye of the spring chancellor’s guardians. Great power bloomed within each, exponential strength that was a product of nearly a year of gardening the blood of those that had been captured by the Forest’s fog. Abyssal blood magic in one of its rawest, purest forms.
In Winter’s mountains the White Flame blazed a frigid cold. Those that had become devoted towards it led the charge in prayer as they asked Aur’il for aid in the coming war, for a frost that would never relent, and for a storm that would turn the flesh of the fey hard as stone. Aurora watched as the newly pious led the prayer, the chosen vestiges of cold, the chancellor of the longest nights did not join in as her people bit the White Flame to sweep across the mountains and tear apart any who intruded within. Harboured in the furthest depths of the mountains, the children and their guardians had been gathered: faimen, fey, and young demigods alike. Among them were changelings and those who did not wish to fight, they were prepared to help lead those to safety by following the path into the Otherworld that Logon had laid out for them. Rainer had trained some of the greatest blades the elves had ever known, out of an old and tired obligation, he lent his own to the cause of the fey once again.
Pink clouds rolled with a dark storm, the summer fey sang a united song as a great storm stretched across the Fairy King’s Forest, New Rome, and the boundary that surrounded it. Laer’s blood tainted the sky as power rose among them: with it a relentless torrent of lightning struck the ground, ready to incinerate those that wandered too close. Columns of fire spun across the boundary of the forest, conjured flames whipped across the terrain, others of water joined, they superheated and supercooled the enchanted ground in tandem as steam rose and strengthened the clouds further. The storm grew more powerful, the lightning stronger and more frequent as it encroached upon the drow’s boundaries and began to pour across the seat of the fey’s former home. Logon alongside the rest of the summer court lingered above as the power of the court fell upon Rome; he drew his blade and descended from the clouds, prepared to join the coming fray. Joined on the ground by Revas, the two would fight side by side.
Spores that had long taken root bloomed at long last. Fungi and rot began to eat away at the Romans and all the people within. Robin’s great gift of fall was the chancellor’s promise of vengeance against those that had been wronged for so long. First The Eye, the Senate, and then from a position of strength, the drow. Wade was the first to be consumed, Death would have been a waste, but among the former elves of dusk, rot was just a second chance at life. It ate away at his brain and replaced it with fungal subjugation as his body was transformed into a changeling of rotted decay. Antimagic coursed through his veins, but Robin’s time spying on The Eye had accounted for this, it worked against it and made the spell resistant to The Eye’s trusted counter defence. Not foolproof, however much of the city began to change. Organic life across Rome fell under the command of decay, creatures of the earth and sky were taken over and made the mindless marionettes of the puppeteer. Robin’s army of spore zombies twisted their bodies towards the assault that the Drow would lay against Rome.
Magic and transformation at her fingertips, Circe’s elven blood saw her allied to the fey. It was her intention to secure their survival, if that meant she had to lay waste to the drow and join the fight, then that was precisely what she intended to do. Magic at the ready, a stave of transformation in hand, little pigs scurried by as she made her way towards the heart of the city. There was a senseless dog there that had wandered off leash for too long, one that she intended to see collared and returned to his pen.
Over their forges the Giants crafted the finest armaments that any of the fey had ever seen, they had constructed enough to arm the greatest warriors of the four courts, and Andruil, with armour of unparalleled design and Eilistraee’s moon sword in hand; armaments fit for the finest army emerged as the four courts were adorned in the trappings of their season. Armour of the udadrow abandoned, Aegnor and Cloud emerged leading the infantry and the lorendrow from the midst of the forest. Aegnor’s armour was made by the Giants for him specifically, the blades he was given were designed to cut through the shadows of the drow. Cloud, The Blood Knight, looked cool too I guess.
Endless hours of working the forge had brought into creation several blades that had all been given names that sounded oddly familiar to anime fans. While The Giants had never been capable of creating revenants, the secret to their invention was either lost or inaccessible to those with the power to find the knowledge for themselves. Common fey had been designated as craftsmen among the court as a force of habit, at the height of the elven empire those with the weakest measure of magic were trained under the watchful eye of dwarves, creatures who historically had very little ambient power of their own. Those with the least amount of magic among the fey were the only ones capable of working the aether into sentience. It started in a dream, Nirvaan appeared to be sleepwalking when he began, for twelve days and twelve nights the common fey worked as the Giants looked on. When Dareth and Aurora asked them what he was doing they just said “He’s on X-Games mode.” The morning before the battle began, a revenant had been created, the first since the height of the elven empire. Nirvaan called this one “samehada” but everyone else called it “shark skin” if they were lame.
Four chancellors, each marked with significant power, each with a warder of their own. Save for Zahrya, who instead had a newly-minted familiar, something he affectionately took to calling a manifest. A prototype of Theneras’ design had been uncovered within the summer fey's lab, a weapon to be used in the extreme defence of the fey that required too much power to have previously been seen as feasible. Together their songs were united, Laer drew from Tamlen’s never ending well of celestial magic as Aurora called on her newly-minted elven blood. Robin’s rot melded with Zahrya’s rebirth and the four chancellors came together as one, bodies of magic that dredged up earth, land, water, fire, ice, storms, decay, and more. Melded in aetherial power, the Diamond-like Titan rose and towered above the trees, and city overall. Far larger than any giant, a body of crystalline appearance that commanded each of the elements at will.
Three warders and a demon accompanied the great goliath: Tamlen, Alastor, Nirvaan, and Inan. Tied to their chancellors, their magic pooled, they collectively pulled from Tamlen’s infinite well of magic. Charged with power previously unknown to them, they stood ready, they were all on X-Games mode now. About the perimeter a permanent cold chilled the air, the lythari Davheira prowled in defence of the Titan and the warders closest to it. Aurora’s desire to protect the people of the city was outmatched, Laer, Robin, and Zahrya had grown contemptuous of the Romans and mortals alike. Theneras’ device, however useful, melded their thoughts and feelings together as the Titan immediately began to rampage across the city: blasts of aether burned down the streets and tore through buildings: intent to reduce all of Rome to rubble and ash until the drow arrived to present them with a new target.
Hellfire changelings heralded the arrival of the DaemonKing Meryasek, Fey’ri of the Old Blood: those who’d bent their knee to him would be left unmarred, as promised, but those that had not would know his mad fury. Vengeance against those who’d locked his mother away, vengeance against a city that had ostracised his people: imprisoned them, bled them, and experimented on them. Also, because there was a part of him that enjoyed it, the part of him that was of Mars’ blood; that thirsted for war and violence. Conquest and conquering. The Scourge Aasimar Dareth, his lover and betrothed, was never far from his side. His Titan began to rampage and even that was more amusing than it was anything else, let it destroy everything, Meryasek no longer had a heart to care.
Day 2
“Come and see! Come and see!”
A bellow erupted from the forest as lycans emerged from the trees, they were accompanied by changelings that were just happy to be included, Remus, and soon after Lilith was there to observe from the shadows. Those among the lycans that had feasted on the hearts of an eldritch changeling were able to consume Zahrya’s blood fruits. The chancellor’s cultivated magic sang within their veins and married the power that flowed within them. Monstrous in shape, their forms doubled. They visibly hulked in size as profane howls echoed across the city. Alek, Flora, Adamo, Serkan, and Romeo stood at the head of the great force. Many of the wayward packs had thrown in with the Lupo, the alphas held a contest, with every felled warrior the Lupo’s numbers grew, and so did their combined strength. Alek the leader of them all.
Their force was greater than any other, resistant to magic, immune to the autumn court’s spores, and bolstered by spring’s chancellor. Lightning did not strike them, the hellfire changelings avoided them, and while some of Rome were under the Fairy King’s protection, only those with personal connections to the Lupo were marked safely from the lycan incursion. War had been brewing in Rome for a long time, if there were loved ones that people didn’t want caught in the crossfire, they’d had ample time to get them out.
As discussed, the Lupo set their sights on Labyrinth first, most of the humans were gone off to battle but it was the nervous system of the Allied Senate Forces. A hub of technology, intelligence, and power. Once within, Lain could finally integrate with their mainframe, then The Eye’s extensive network would be for the taking, and destruction. Robin's spores corrupted those within and twisted them against their own defenses as changelings cleared the path. Anarchy ensued and the Lupo struck.
Labyrinth awaited the Lupo as they tore through the androids, automated defences, and humans that had been stationed there. Remus took the form of a great Otherworldly monstrosity. Arguably the most powerful among the aspects, he tore apart the facility in a vengeful fury as he thought about how it had taken his son from him. Lilith thought he was being dramatic but she didn’t mention it and just watched, behaviour like this was why they were friends. They ripped through the lab and killed everything that came across their path. Alek at the head of the pack, the volatile alpha incensed by Zahrya’s blood fruit, led the Lupo into the midst of the laboratory. Each fanned out, the army of lycans descended through the facility as they tore through everything, spore monstrosities at their side as those unaffected were rejected by Death and brought back to be sent running at the threat of repeated butchery. Deep within the heart of The Eye’s operations were present, the central nervous system of everything that Labyrinth held dear. Lain shifted from man to wolf and connected to the mainframe as suspicion emerged from within the alpha’s mind, it echoed throughout the pack. Those that pieced it all together were the first to run, but Lain said it first out loud. “It’s a trap.”
Rigged to explode, the formidable base filled the sky with fire as a crater was left in the Earth where Labyrinth and The Outpost had once stood. Scorched, limbs torn and strewn about, the lycans were all rejected by Death. From the ashes the lycans stood again, overhead the sun was completely eclipsed by the drow, the full moon was prematurely brought to power, and across the city the wolves that had only been bitten recently, or those who normally fled during the four nights began to turn. Howls erupted around the city as the chaotic battle intensified. Wolfish laughter emanated from the depths of the pack, the humans had fooled them, but lycans had sharper natural senses than any other by far. Across the city a fight was now underway between the fey, the drow, and the defenders of the city. They’d tear their way through and make their way to the new heart of the senate and The Eye: The Otherworld and the Pyramid of Cestius, fate was funny that way.
Amidst the rubble Remus shook off the ashes, something like that was barely enough to leave a scratch, but his fucking jacket was RUINED. He’d already been angry before, but now he was pissed.
Night 2
Above the senate’s prison, their latest facility housed the banshees that had wailed for the last month. Ragged voices that were turned into little more than whimpers still miraculously held the same measure of power. Soft whispers behind muzzles that, if removed, could tear the soul out of someone in an instant. Collapsed in their cells, Paloma and Chrysaor had ceased even trying to fight. Instead they laid there, catatonic as the end of the world approached and they were powerless to stop it.
An attack from the fey and the Lupo was not unexpected, The Eye had intelligence from every corner of this city, the forest, and recently New Rome. Truthfully, save for the Titan, things were happening as predicted, even the development of magic that was resistant to their antimagic was in line with a series of probable events that had been carefully calculated. Sanem’s team had found spore traces and already worked to develop a means of countering it. Those that had not been inoculated were being quarantined across the city, their conditions could be reversed with treatment but The Eye and Rome would first need to survive the assault.
Within the city mechanical units were deployed, those that had been vaccinated against the spores wore rebreathers to keep from being infected by a second wave. Those that had not would be injected with serums to incapacitate them. Both the soldiers on the ground and the manufactured androids and warforged were outfitted with this capability, both fixed with scanners to differentiate those that were safe from those that were not.
Across the city war between the city’s defences were quickly overwhelmed by the Lupo, Fey, and Drow that had chosen Rome as their battleground. Forced to consolidate, the City’s Defences took up refuge within the Pyramid of Cestius as a means of holding. The Titan marched against Rome and the DaemonKing Meryasek brought hellfire to the streets of the city as the lycans carved a path from the crater that used to be Labyrinth. Overhead, the sky would remain black: threads like a spider’s silk had covered the sun and even at dawn Rome would remain blanketed in Nyloth’s dark shadow.
Blessed by the fair Fortuna, Xerxes, Giovanni, Wade, and Valentina were stationed together around the Pyramid when Wade was suddenly transformed into a mushroom zombie. Restrained, the others were much more fortunate (thanks Caio). Abel ushered in a number of witches towards the lower levels of the Pyramid, joined by Theo, Elessar, Asher, and Niko: though Niko quickly turned into a spore changeling and had to be restrained in a cage until he could be treated. Adrian, Dimitri, Cruz, Ismael, and Oliver worked together but as the spores took root, Cruz was quickly transformed into a monster. Adrian got jumpscared and pulled his head off accidentally. Death didn’t really care too much for Cruz so the hunter kept coming back, Dimitri accidentally killed him next, and then when they were all sure he’d keep reappearing the other two took a turn as well. Then they locked him up because he was a zombie. Strategically positioned to defend the entrances to the Otherworld, medical encampments were built by Nettelia’s team on either side.
Those that could not or did not wish to fight had been evacuated to a safehouse in the countryside under the guidance of Vivianne and the Dahlia witches that would join them. Among them was the nephilim Serissa, who would or would not return to the city, her mind still undecided as news of what was happening to her home reached her.
Into the dawn of the third day, the fighting would continue. Which followed into the fourth, and then the fifth: by the sixth day Rome had fallen completely as the lycans took hold of it entirely alongside the fey. Lawless and abandoned, depraved and violent, the coven houses fell, the vampiric estates fell and the city was transformed into a battlefield. The Titan devastated the city for several days and several nights until Tamlen was cut down when The Executioner bit off his head, a fact that Felandaris chided him for but it was okay because the Architect could not stay mad at them. Shortly after the chancellor's magic was shortly depleted. Elsewhere, beneath the Pyramid, the celestial elf bloomed like ripened fruit and fell from a limb of the Laurelin. Fortifications had risen around the Pyramid, above the flying fortress of the drow had established a hold, both above Rome and below, the dark catacombs were their natural ally. Put on the defensive by the raw aetherial magic of the Titan, at its separation the drow were at last prepared to truly begin their assault. Dawn never came, but a black sun continued to burn overhead as the fey wove their magic to close off the city’s borders, both above and below so none who’d entered could leave or return to the Otherworld.
Together within, they were all trapped together.
ooc info:
The landscape has shifted, you can see where everyone is here.
Drow are primarily in their flying city or below it.
Allied Senate Forces are in their Pyramid/Otherworld Base Camp or on the Battlefield outside of Dis. Necromancers are able to communicate with people in the Allied Base Camp for some mental warfare, or to feed them information (traitors), but they can't physically affect them in any way.
Asphodel girlies are in Necromanteion.
Prisoners are in the Blood Prison :).
Battlefield is going crazy, every day the Allies advance a bit towards the city and their encampment grows. Everyday they lose more people, about a third of their force is lost by the next drop when they reach the walls.
The dead are dead. They are out of play and are completely closed for interactions, if you have ongoing threads with them, drop them.
The unaccounted for are temporarily out of play, unless they're mentioned in the plot drop and then disappear. In which case you can roleplay up until the moment they went MIA.
Everyone else who was in Rome at the time are trapped in the city somewhere, the Lupo are tearing the city apart while they help the fey fight the drow and their forces.
Drow have blotted out the sun, both with magic and with the massive flying fortress overhead. They can move freely from their city to the Court thanks to Felan's gates.
The flowers of the pharmakis are all gone, those earned in Knossos, and any that existed previously. RIP.
Slay. Next plot drop with be November 3rd, nine days away in game, 7 days ooc.
All non-event threads must be put on hold.
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First of all, I am not good at English..
I'm sorry if there's an error in the meaning..TwT)..;;;
I'm so nervous that I might get English wrong..!
Come to think of it, I've only posted pictures and not said anything
Actually, I don't know what to write..0.0)
Thank you for looking at my painting
Have a great day!♡
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Moon & Seraph Pitch Week
Blue Neighbourhood X Celtic/Irish mythology X Greek mythology
To Catch the Sea
Serving the Dragon King as one of his own is the highest honour, and what Adam always knew he would become before he ever had the choice. He always knew dragons' magic was of fire, and of sun. Chimeras' magic was of storms, and of poison. Unfortunately, the chimera who plays the piano at every banquet and walks the beach at twilight is the only one who’s ever made him feel.
And when a new recruit drowns under Adam's watch, suddenly, he has more important things to worry about than wooing a boy who doesn't know his name.
Themes
Forbidden love
Coming-of-age
Power
Change vs tradition
Current Stage in Writing Process: Proofreading, Beta prep (see Wip-relevant links if interested!)
Art related to wip
(I've made so much art for this WIP that limiting it to one was not easy)
Wip-relevant links
WIP intro post
Character posts: Adam / Shay / Caleb / Sara / Ivy / Olena
WIP playlist
Some of my favourite edits (with excerpts): Blue & Golden (above)/ Storms / Manticore
WIP tag (see more art and excerpt here!)
Fill in this form if you're interested in becoming a Beta reader!
Content warnings
Child abuse
Burning/fire
Drowning
Death
Mentions of child death/miscarriage
Like or reply to be added to the taglist!
#MSPW: pitch#MSPW: ownvoices queer rep#MSPW: PoC rep#MSPW: queer rep#MSPW: YA#MSPW: fantasy wip#MSPW: romance#MSPW: high fantasy#repost
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IZZY HAS A FLAMETHROWER, I REPEAT, IZZY HAS A FLAMETHROWER
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Why did the authors think it was alright to kill my favorite characters during quarantine?
RIP (even if not for sure or completely cause y'know anime logic)
#cytus 2#ivy cytus#mikaela#owari no seraph#seraph of the end#sdorica#rayark#hyakuya mikaela#i'm not okay#RIP
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why are there so many birgus lines missing on the pirate wiki. squid origins pirates rise up (and send screenshots to the wiki)
#personal stuff#delete later#i'm trying to write down lines of dialogue here smh#and i cant get the lines bc ivy's maxed aaaaaaaaaaaaa#seraph i hear u say. why are u writing down pirate dialogue. you have like 800 words of it what are you doing#listen. listen. its either i write down every piece of dialogue that makes me want to lie down#or i try to puzzle together where all the worlds of the spiral are
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Ivy’s evolution from a street rat, to... a more glamorous street rat.
Bonus points if you recognise the face reference (who had lopsided eyes until I realised at the end when it was too late to fix).
#i couldnt be bothered figuring out what her hair used to look like for pre seraph#so now its canon that she had a buzzcut#she also is very NOT glam but hey gotta keep the faces interesting#someone teach me how to draw hair that isnt a swamp#ivy#ivy daggers#oc#gw2#guild wars 2#sketch#art#digital art#my art#original character#procreate#ipad#aerisdraws
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“Aaaaand… done!”
Millie grinned to themself and clapped excitedly, proud of their work. The cake was beautiful, a sweet vanilla with pink frosting that Millie had mixed themself, coloring and all. They used red frosting to create delicate roses on the top, and placed a strawberry in the center. Millie stood back and admired the cake; they’d recently picked up baking as a hobby, with Thraben’s resurgence allowing them to get their hands on ingredients they never had in Elgaud. Back home, the cake would have been very plain – no frosting, no fruit. At the time they had never thought much of it. Now, they were unsure how they had ever lived.
When they were young, they would go into nearby Havengul for sweets, but that was quite rare. Their strict parents never let them go into the city alone; of course, Alisa, their sister, was allowed to run free. “It’s because she’s a cathar. She can take care of herself,” their parents would say, despite the fact that Millie was four years her senior and a strong spellcaster in their own right.
Whatever, they thought. They were free from Havengul, from Elgaud, from the strictness of their parents. They had a new life in Thraben with their beloved Thalia.
Thalia. Just the thought of her warmed Millie’s heart. Their partner, the Guardian of Thraben, was the most phenomenal person they’d ever met; had it not been for her lack of wings, they would have mistaken her for an angel. They’d been with Thalia for three years, and living with her for longer; the two were best friends before that.
Their partner opened the door, a bouquet of flowers in hand. “Princess,” she cooed as Millie ran to her, embracing her tightly. She was still wearing her armor, despite the city being safe once more. According to Thalia, it was more ceremonial at this point, a symbol to the people. “Love, will you go on a walk with me? It’s beautiful out.” She gestured to the sun, just beginning to set, and a warm breeze lifted Millie’s skirt.
“I’d love that. Should I bring some of the cake I made?”
“Let’s save it for when we get home.” Thalia kissed them as she handed them the bouquet. Millie breathed it in deeply: a dozen roses, white and red, tied with a beautiful pink bow. They tucked the bouquet in the crook of their arm, then took Thalia’s hand. Even through the thick gloves, it was warm.
“Where are we headed?” Millie asked, tilting their head to look up at her. She was a foot taller than them, and her large pauldrons often made it hard for them to see her face.
“I thought we’d climb up the Cathedral and watch the sunset from there.”
“The Cathedral?” Millie asked. “Wasn’t it destroyed entirely?”
“The Host of Herons rebuilt it quickly, with the help of Liesa and the Dawnhart Coven.” Thalia squeezed their hand as they began to weave through the evening merchant crowd. “It’s beautiful now. I just have to show it to you, princess.”
Millie felt a deep sense of pride as they walked through the streets with their partner, the city’s protector, the world’s greatest hero. The citizens of Thraben stepped to the side to allow Thalia and Millie to pass through effortlessly. Some cheered; some were quietly gracious, waving and grinning at the cathar and her partner. “Popular, aren’t you?” Millie teased.
Thalia flushed. She was confident in her leadership but always flustered by people thanking her for her work. “I guess you could say that.”
The couple finally made it to the Cathedral. Millie had only been to the Cathedral of Avacyn once, before the late seraph’s madness five years prior. The witch had been a child and incredibly bored at a wedding that took place in the chapel. It had been beautiful then, though, that much they remember. Now, the building was utterly radiant.
Angels drifted through the air like butterflies at the roof’s peak, the fading sunlight catching in their snow white wings and reflecting as if made of glass. Ivy crawled up the edifice and surrounded the rosetta window. A stylized heron, made of gorgeous stained glass, was perched in the middle of the rosetta. The spires, once shattered in The Travails, were rebuilt with the highest quality stone. And even though Avacyn was gone, her symbol watched over all, her collar decorating each pinnacle. “Oh, blessed angels, Thalia. It’s beautiful.”
“Wait until you see the inside.”
They entered the church, now decorated in shades of green, white, and gray, symbolizing the archangels of Heron and Dusk. Stained glass windows stood tall on either side of the nave, depicting the history of Innistrad including the triumph over wickedness at the Travails and the Battle of Thraben. Two stone hippogryffs stood on either side of the chansel, looking over the choir. While still beautiful, there was a humble elegance to the church, unlike the haughty grace of the Cathedral when Avacyn ruled.
A few angels dressed in clerical garb greeted Thalia and Millie. Thalia nodded politely, slightly lifting Millie’s hand as if to say, “Look at my partner!” The witch blushed – they had never thought they would be shown off to angels of all beings.
The couple ascended the stairs to the rafters, where the host of angels gathered to rest. When Millie and Thalia got there, however, the rafters were empty. Millie glanced around curiously, a nervous pang gripping their heart. They remembered the days of The Travails, where angels of the collapsed flights of Alabaster and Goldnight decimated the local population without rest or mercy. Thalia sensed Millie’s apprehension. “It’s okay, princess. I called in a favor.”
“What?”
The Guardian of Thraben grinned. “Did you forget? I know Sigarda personally.”
“Don’t tell me you asked Sigarda to move all her angels just so you could watch the sunset with me.”
“Okay. I won’t tell you that.” Thalia laughed, a gorgeous melody in the rafter’s high-roofed walls. “C’mere, princess.” She tugged on their hand and brought them over to a large, clear window, open to allow the rapidly cooling air to blow through the room. Millie stared out over the city in wonder. It was no surprise that Avacyn had watched the world from here, or that Sigarda and Liesa had it rebuilt so they could oversee Innistrad’s regrowth. From here, they could see from the center of the city, over the Outer Wall, into the Nearheath and beyond. Tears pricked Millie’s eyes as they gazed upon Thraben, knowing the future of Innistrad was safe, in large part thanks to their beloved Thalia.
Thalia took the bouquet Millie held and set it on the window sill before taking their tiny hands in her large ones. Her crystal blue eyes were gorgeous in the low light. “I love you,” she whispered. “Millie… can I tell you something?” They nodded, and she smiled softly and continued. “I’ve always fought for this world, the people. It was exhausting, and I could feel my hope faltering, even after the nameless horrors fled the world. And then… I met you, and you gave me strength. I fell for you. You gave me something new to fight for. I had to clear Thraben not just for Innistrad, but for you. So I could have a future with you.” She squeezed their hands. “Millie, I love you with everything I have. You are my future.” She knelt, and Millie realized what was happening. They gasped as she produced a small box with a simple silver ring inside. “Millie d’Fleur, will you bless me with your hand in marriage?”
They wept openly, nodding, unable to speak. Thalia slipped the ring onto their finger and stood to embrace them. Millie kissed her passionately, their tears mixing with Thalia’s. “I love you,” they managed to murmur against her plush lips. “Thalia… you’re my everything.”
“And you’re mine, princess.” She kissed them once more and set them down. “I’m so blessed you’re in my future, and that I can face the world with you by my side. I love you.”
#self ship#self insert#selfship#self shipping#selfshipping#wlw self ship#nblw self ship#lgbt selfship#lgbt self ship#my writing#ok to rb#strawberry blonde
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