#please stick to wind instruments
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Every time Yuya sings a savannaclaw member runs in fear
#cheer!yuya#cheer!rambles#Yuya can’t sing#Leona wasn’t the only one who lost sleep during Book 3#please stick to wind instruments#Yuya has a pair of lungs#twisted oc#twst#twst yuu#twisted wonderland
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made for me // posted on ao3
Pairing: Marius von Hagen x afab!reader
Words: 1,641
Tags: unprotected sex, dirty talk, creampie, loud sex, rough sex, just porn really
This starts off gentle. You can feel the wind softly brushing against your heated skin as your tongues dance together. Besides the sound of yours and his heavy breathing, you can hear the faint sound of mandolin being played just outside the building—reminding you that you’re not in Stellis.
You can taste the wine on his lips and you swear it’s laced with an aphrodisiac because you’re addicted to him. Your body has been yearning for him the entire night, for his body, for his hands to be everywhere on you and inside you. You press your palm against his broad chest and he lets out this soft, breathless sigh against your lips that makes you feel weak in the knees, before pulling himself away from the kiss.
He's so big compared to you—the way he’s towering over you like this as he envelops you with his whole body. His large hands are on your thigh and the other is flat against your back, holding you tightly against him as if you’re the most fragile thing in the world. You feel his heaving chest against yours, your breathing matching his—laboured and desperate. He shifts you in his arms, so he can nuzzle his face against the crook of your neck. A soft moan escapes your lips at the feeling of his hot breath on your skin, followed by the wet sensation of his tongue licking up the side of your neck. Your cunt clenches when he starts sucking on your skin to leave his marks on you—from your neck, down to your collarbone. This man, your man, is branding your skin on the most visible of areas. ‘I want the whole world to know that you belong to me.
You will yourself to pull away so you can look at him, to take in his appearance and god, under the mauve coloured sunset of Florence, he looks so ethereal, almost godlike. You’re still reeling at the fact that he’s all yours. This attractive, tall and dark haired man with beautiful violet eyes whose body is made to please you. He stares into your eyes with such intensity filled with both love and lust, before moving down to your parted lips and then your heaving chest. “You’re so beautiful, my love…” his fingers trace the outline of your dress, reaching to the side before pulling down the zipper.
“I’ll take my time with you tonight…”
His cock feels so good inside you, every ridge and vein pressing against your tight walls, sliding in and out of you at a slow and tantalising pace. True to his words, he’s taking his time with you; different from what you’re used to with him—fast, rough and risky. One thing that’s constant though are the orgasms he puts your body through. Each one so earth-shattering, that it leaves you clawing at his chest as you breathlessly moan ‘oh god Marius’ over and over again like a prayer. You came so much in the past hour, on his cock, mouth and fingers—leaving him so utterly drenched with your release that his expensive black shirt is now sticking to his body.
Every once in a while, he’ll stop—allowing your body to recover. And he’ll brush the hair out of your face before burying his face against your neck once again, as he whispers his vows to you, the same vow he made when he got down on one knee for you. You’re reeling at this, how he’s able to make you so emotional and aroused at the same time. And then you feel the familiar stretch again, sending your eyes rolling to the back of your skull as he pushes himself back inside you.. “So fucking tight, baby. God, I love being inside you…”
The sound of the soft instrumental music outside is now completely drowned out by the sound of his hips meeting yours, the wet squelching of your dripping cunt and the loud noise of the headboard repeatedly banging against the wall as Marius fucks you harder into the mattress.
He knows when you’re about to cum. From the way you clench so tightly around him and as you slowly arch your back to receive more of him. He finds this so fucking sexy, how you’re pushing yourself towards him and pulling him deeper at the same time as you wrap your legs around him. “That's my good girl…my beautiful little slut. So greedy for me…aah…” Your walls tighten at that, that filthy nickname. Slut. The only man you’ll ever let call you that. The only man who’s allowed to do every obscene things in the book to you, to fuck you and make a mess out of you.
The orgasm is explosive, even stronger than the last. It’s so good, it’s so fucking good that you’re crying.
Your back is arching off the bed, eyes white and cunt gripping him like a vice. “Fuck, shit, fuck—!“ he curses, his body jerking against your hips as he unloads inside you. Thick hot spurts of cum painting your walls, filling you up so deliciously that it induces more orgasms before you even have the chance to recover.
“Marius ahn—feels so good…oh my god...”
You can’t focus on anything else besides the feeling of his throbbing cock inside you—thick and heavy, still violently pumping in and out your overstimulated pussy.
“Fuck baby. Turn around,” he commands, pulling out of you and lifting you up before you can even register his words. “Ass up in the air please…just like that. That’s my good girl.” His hand rests on your ass, as you try to find your balance in this new position. You plant your face onto the pillow and grip onto the sheets—dripping wet and ready for him to fuck you again. Marius pushes his tip in then pulls it out before rubbing it against your clit, smearing his cum that’s leaking out of you over your folds. He repeats this; teasing you until you’re all but whining and begging for him to shove his cock inside you again.
“Look at how well you stretch for me,” he pushes in deeper, a breathless gasp escape your lips when you feel his tip touching your womb. He’s so deep, so big, stretching you so full. He’s ruined you for other men, because you know that no one else will ever fill you up this good. “You take me in so well. You always do—fuck.” He rubs your clit with his fingers, adding more to the stimulation. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire, the sensation so overwhelming, you want to scream.
“Don’t hold back, baby. Let it out for me. Let the people outside hear how good it feels when I’m fucking you.” Your grip on the sheets tighten, knuckles turning white—it’s mind numbing, all consuming. The way he drives his thick cock back inside your cunt, hitting the perfect spot at each thrust—you finally understand how being fucked dumb feels like.
“aa—ahn marius oh my god—fuck oh fuck! It feels so fucking good, you make me—aah—feel so good…” You’re a rambling mess, your brain turning into mush and the only thing keeping you conscious is him whispering sweet nothings in your ear. “Can’t wait to make you my wife…my beautiful, perfect wife. God—just look at you,”
He grabs onto your hips to flip you onto your back so he can look at your face while he pushes himself back inside you. He pulls back and pushes your thighs closer to your chest. He looks at where you are connected, relishing at the way your cunt swallows his cock—his thrusts now slow and teasing, dragging out the last sliver of your sanity. He loves the way your eyes cross as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge once again.
Marius gathers your legs in one arm then folds you in half, his huge body towering over you now as he presses his hips against yours. He angles himself to drive his cock even deeper inside you—your grip around the sheet tightening even more that you swear it’s tearing apart. The little whimpers that you make drives him crazy. He wants to savour you, to pleasure you until you can’t take it anymore.
He wipes the tear at the side of your eye with his thumb, looking at you tenderly before driving his cock back inside you, knocking the breath out of your lungs. A high pitched moan is dragged out of you, particularly louder than before that there is without a doubt could be heard by the people downstairs.
His fingers find their way to your cunt to rub your clit, the sudden contact makes your body jerk and thrash against him. “I know baby, I know. Cum for me again…on my cock, as much as you want.” Your toes curl, eyes rolling to the back of your skull as you let yourself go—
“Fuck yesss baby…just like that. Such a good girl…” He stills inside you, feeling your walls clench and unclench around him, your entire body trembling as you gush all over him, drenching his thighs and the sheets with your combined fluids.
Marius supports his weight with his arms on either side of you as he tries to catch his own breath. You feel his cock twitch inside you, making you clench around him. He hisses at the overstimulation then buries his face against your neck.
“How are we ever going to top this once we get to our real honeymoon?” You ask playfully as you run your fingers through his hair, drenched in his own sweat. He chuckles against your neck before lifting his head up to smile down at you.
“Are you underestimating us, jiejie?” He asks, feigning hurt. And then he winks at you. “I’ll just have to fuck you harder then.”
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Somewhere Out There
Tom “Iceman” Kazansky x Wife!Reader
Synopsis: Deployments are hard, but when you have someone to come home to, someone to love, that makes things easier, painful as it may be.
Warnings: Maybe a little bit of angst, I guess, offscreen sort-of implied married-people-doing-married-people-stuff 😉😉, minuscule cursing, a PG-13 use of the F-word, and a crap-ton of fluffy, lovey-dovey goodness.
Author’s Note: I don’t write reader fic.
I really don’t.
I write ship fic and gen fic, and I’d say I’m pretty decent at it, judging from the comments on my stories.
But then, @valmare came along, and we just clicked.
Mostly through screaming about Top Gun, naval aviators (*cough*tomkazansky*cough*), and our mutual appreciation for Val Kilmer.
And I knew I wanted to write something for her, especially since she was celebrating 300 followers!
Unfortunately, deep down, I knew I couldn’t write a ship fic for her.
I would have to write a reader!fic.
So, because I love her, I delved into the uncharted (for me, at least) waters of reader!fic.
I’m honestly not sure if this is any good, I wrote it in a perspective I’m not used to, and I hope and pray it makes any kind of sense.
Title is from the song of the same name, “Somewhere Out There”, from An American Tail.
To my dear Mir, I swear I began writing this yesterday, but I touched on things that you did in your own most recent fic, however, I couldn’t for the life of me, find another way to put what I wrote.
I promise on Goose’s grave that I did not plagiarize you.
All I can say is… fangirls think alike?
Please don’t hate meeee!!!!
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this attempt at wading in the waters you so expertly navigate, my dear!
Happy 300 Followers!!!
The mist was rolling in from the sea, she absently noted, while the rising sun caught the minuscule droplets of water in the air, making the very wind shimmer.
Even inside, she could smell the faint tang of salt in the air, one of her favorite scents, but it was missing the key part—so much was missing.
The warmth of her husband behind her, for one thing, as they watched the sunrise on this window seat, her legs bracketed by his, his arms around her, the scent of spice, bourbon, and jet fuel which was all him, surrounding her.
God, she missed Tom.
Right now, he was halfway around the world on a ship, and she was watching the weekend sunrise without him, for the first time since they got married.
She knew this was part of being married to an active duty naval aviator, but it didn’t make the ache any better.
She tugged the collar of the USNA t-shirt up to her nose, but the scent was so faint from when Tom had tossed it to the floor the night before his deployment.
She sighed; she could still remember how he’d made her feel that night—he’d made her body sing, playing her like an expert musician would his instrument.
She’d felt him for days after, and if she focused enough, even now, she could almost feel his hands on her, the paradox of how gentle they were, despite the callouses on his palm, his lips on hers.
For all that he was called “Iceman”, she never saw an iota of the reasoning; with her, he was never anything but unfailingly warm, gentle, kind, loving, and passionate.
It had been nearly a week since she dropped him off last Monday at Miramar, exhorting Mav and Slider to bring him home to her.
The grave promise in the two men’s eyes as they readily agreed, had to be comfort enough, and wordlessly, they hauled Tom’s seabag between them, a strap in each of their hands, cheerfully bickering as they went, to give her a chance to say a more private goodbye.
She didn’t know what to say to him—this had to be one of the most painful things she’d ever done—giving her husband up to the sea and sky for ninety days, not knowing if he’d return to her alive, safe, having to trust only in his skill on the stick and his wingmen to bring him back to her.
Tears stung at the corners of her eyes, and Tom’s eyes softened, as he drew her into his embrace. “I’ll come back to you, lyubimaya moya,” he whispered in her ear, all too aware of how dangerous it was to speak Russian on base, outside of the safety of the walls of their house, but aware that she needed the comfort.
“Promise me—promise you’ll come back to me, Thomas Kazansky,” she fiercely murmured, drawing back to look at him, taking the opportunity that she would shortly not have.
“Always.
No matter what, no matter what oceans part us,” he replied, an intensity which would frighten others, but which soothed her, in his crystalline eyes.
She gasped and desperately tugged him to her, his kiss piecing her heart together and breaking it, all for knowing that it was the last time she’d feel it for three months.
He’d taken her soul with him the moment he let her go to do his duty.
Back in the pain of her present, a sob masquerading as a sigh tore from her lips—it wasn’t enough; it would never be enough until she had him back in her arms, back in her bed, back in this house, where she felt like a shade of herself, a modern-day Eurydice.
Her legs reluctantly carried her to the kitchen, where she prepared her weekend coffee, narrowly resisting the urge to pull out two mugs instead of one.
But when she picked up the can of Maxwell House, she fumbled it, because it was far lighter than it should’ve been—heavy, but not the still-full can it should have been.
Tentatively, she opened it, and gasped when she saw that the can was filled with folded-up pieces of paper, each marked with dates on them, in Tom’s careful, exacting writing.
She tipped the can over, and the papers came spilling out—there had to be at least three months worth of letters here, one for each day of his deployment.
She frantically searched through the pile, looking for today’s date.
Upon finding it, she dashed back to the window seat, deliberately peeling the tape holding it closed, unable to treat the letter with anything less than the utmost care.
She quickly noticed Tom’s writing here was cramped, as if he were trying to fit everything he wanted to say on this one small piece of paper.
“Hello, solnishko,
If you’re reading this, it means that you’ve found the letters I wrote for you; one for each day of my deployment.
As I write this, I am next to you in bed, looking at your beautiful face, so peaceful in sleep, but the mere thought of my impending departure already tears me apart more than I thought possible.
I won’t have thought of anything else but you since the moment I left your arms, I am absolutely certain.
You know all too well why I joined the Navy—my search for a home, a real home, one not plagued by unattainable standards and harsh words.
I eventually found one in the sky, and for the longest time, she was enough, with her freedom, her thrill, but there were still demands, still standards, though the words were kinder.
Then I met you.
And you changed everything.
You are my home, lyubimaya moya; with you, I don’t have to be Iceman, or Lieutenant Kazansky; with you, I can be Tom.
Just Tom.
Your Tom.
I can’t wait until I can be your Tom again.
Eighty-four days, zhizn moya; and I’m yours again.
Yours forever,
Tom”
She pressed her hand to her chest, careful to avoid crumpling the paper beneath her hand, a tear slipping from her eyes, the ache of his absence soothed with the absolute confirmation that he was thinking of her just as she was about him, and intensified, knowing that he was so far away.
Eventually, she sniffled, brushing away her tear tracks, wishing it was Tom’s hand, and gathered herself.
Eighty-four days.
Eighty-four days, and she’d have him back—a short eternity, to be sure, but a small price to pay for what she’d get back at the end.
Until then, she’d count the sunrises, holding him and the words he’d written for her, close to her heart.
Tom stared out at the horizon, watching the sun come up on the relatively quiet deck of the Enterprise.
It meant that he lost a good thirty minutes of sleep, but it was worth it, just to know that his wife was looking at the same sunrise, or she would be, at any rate, given the time difference.
The horizon spread out before him; endless, and the fleeting, errant thought that she was just there, beyond the beyond, entered his mind.
So far—a little over six thousand nautical miles, more or less, depending on the course and speed of the Enterprise, further than any F-14 could fly—and yet so near, because she was never far from his heart.
He’d never thought he could love anything or anyone more than her—among his other endearments for her was zhizn moya, because that was what she was to him: his life.
Tom idly twisted the band of gold around his left ring finger, more proud of that simple ring than the hard-won blue-jeweled Annapolis ring on his right.
God, he missed her.
“I thought I’d find you here.”
Tom turned to see Mav, coming up to lean on the railing beside him, none of the usual cockiness on his face.
“You shouldn’t be up yet, Mav.”
A haunted expression lingered on the edges of his wingman’s face as he searched for anything but the truth to tell, and Tom knew. “The usual?”
“Yeah,” Mav rasped. “I—I checked on Merls and Sli, but I got—got worried when I—I didn’t find you, so…” the black-haired pilot trailed off, before continuing, “you okay?”
“I should be asking you that, but… yeah, I am, just…”
“Just missing her,” Mav nodded sagely, almost wistfully.
“Yeah.”
“How do you even handle that?” Mav asked, frowning.
The sunlight made him feel more honest than he would probably otherwise be, Aurora’s kiss a comforting benediction, reminding him of all he had to come home to, and he replied, “What makes you think that I am?” He shook his head, “Doesn’t really feel like I’m even here, honestly.”
Mav good-naturedly smirked, “You left your heart in San Diego?”
Tom side-eyed his wingman. “Yeah, actually.
You’ll understand it one day, when you meet the right one,” he sighed, thinking of his wife’s beautiful smile.
“I dunno, Ice, I’m not sure if I want to be you, or be thankful that I’m not.”
Tom scoffed, unable to help his grin. “It’s the worst feeling in the world, to be away from her, to exist without her, after knowing what it’s like to be with her—”
“Not exactly selling it, Kazansky,” Mav interrupted.
Tom rolled his eyes, “I wasn’t done, dickhead.”
At Mav’s grin, Tom continued, “As I was saying, it’s the worst feeling in the world, to be away from her, to exist without her, after knowing what it’s like to be with her, but knowing that I get to come home to her… that makes it all worth it.
I hope you get this someday, Mav.
You sure as hell deserve some fucking happiness in this life.”
Mav smiled weakly, but honestly. “Maybe one day, Ice.”
The two of them smiled at each other, before Tom clapped Mav on the shoulder. “We better get going—the guys should be awake now, and if we don’t get to mess, Slider and Merlin might just take all the good stuff.”
“Good is relative,” Mav scoffed, making him laugh.
“Okay—the better stuff.”
They laughed, beginning to make their way back in.
But just before he stepped through the door amidships, he couldn’t help but look back at the horizon, the sun shedding the last of its dawning gentility, to turn into the harsh, blazing light that it was in this part of the world.
Eighty-four days.
Eighty-four more sunrises holding her only in his heart until he could also hold her in his arms.
It was a high price, to be sure, but in the face of having eternity as hers, what was eighty-four days?
Until then, he’d count the sunrises, holding her close to his heart.
“Hey Ice, you coming?” Mav called.
“I’m coming,” he replied.
And with that, he stepped inside to do his duty, eagerly awaiting the next sunrise, each consecutive one bringing him closer to his home, to his beloved wife.
I headcanon Ice as having Russian descent, but quite frankly, you can tear Slavic!Ice from my cold, dead hands.
To me, he’s either Polish or Russian.
Russian Glossary
Disclaimer: endearments and translations taken from Google—please don’t hesitate to correct me if I’m wrong, which, odds are, I am.
Lyubimaya moya: my darling/my one and only sweetheart
Solnishko: little sun
Zhizn moya: my life
#officially in my val kilmer era#not me 👀 at men literally old enough to be my father#top gun#top gun fanfiction#top gun fanfic#tom iceman kazansky x reader#tom kazansky x reader#tom iceman kazansky#tom kazansky#val kilmer
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In your orbit
Portgas D. Ace x Singer!Reader drabble
Warnings: none, just fluff, fem reader
The song that I reference:
𝄞₊ ⊹
Love is tender
Sounds like your favorite song
Looks like the sun coming trough the window warming your cold skin
Tastes like your favorite dessert
Or so you thought until you met the second commander of white-beards pirate crew, fire fist Ace… now you doubted, you were almost sure love was anything within his orbit
You filled your lungs with the salted evening air before continuing humming the tune of a song you were writing, holding your “baby guitar” as Ace called it, while bathing on the last rays of sunset
“I thought it was a songbird on the deck”- you heard in that familiar voice you so adored the sound of, you turned your back startled a bit, Ace’s footsteps were heard getting closer, then he sat down beside you sighing in a relaxing manner
You giggle a bit- “I am not that great at singing”, you said looking down at your instrument again and continuing on playing the tune on its strings. “You must be kidding!” Ace exclaimed overly dramatic as he always was and laughed, you shook your head, “I am almost sure that the birds are jealous of you and they stop singing to listen to you” he said in a flirty tone while he got closer to you in a playful way
His words lingered in the air for a while, your rosy cheeks being the only trace of what he had said to you
You cleared your throat and changed the subject, “Have you ever played an instrument before?”- you asked looking anywhere but at his eyes, you were sure you’ll melt away if you did, “Nu uh” Ace answered while laying back, his hat covering his eyes and his hand behind his head- “Too busy being awesome to learn” he grinned
You smiled and looked back at the ocean and began to sing, Ace moved his hat to see you better
♫
Tell me, lover
Now that you made your change
Was your soul rediscovered?
Was your heart rearranged?
The sound of your voice, mixed with the notes coming out of your ukulele made Ace feel like he was floating, everything else disappeared when you sang
Ace sometimes had to stop his selfish thoughts of wanting to catch you like a songbird in his window so that you would only sing for him. No one else in the crew, hell, in the world he thought, could appreciate you and your talent like he did
You stopped and gasped when you felt a sudden weight on your side and a sigh that tickled your neck, “Keep singing songbird… please”- oh that nickname, it made you shiver and your stomach flutter, it was hard to continue the tune, but you did, with trembling hands and shaky breath
♫
I miss this place, your head and your heart
Ace held in a giggle, he knew that whenever he was just a little too close to you, you’ll went from a confident woman to a red shaky stumbling mess.
Ever since you first joined just some months ago after saving a member of white-beards crew in your island, it was evident how Ace was drawn to you, you always saw it as him being friendly and welcoming, but after a while Ace had gathered the courage to get to know you, gain your trust and be a flirt.
He liked how someone as romantic and artistic as you, was also a very fearless fighter, he just wanted to decipher you.
♫
'Cause this town's just an ocean now
The last note left your lips, “What do you think about the song Ace?” You asked just to be met with Ace’s loud snores, you smiled fondly at the pirate. The rays of sun kissed his freckles and the wind made the hair that sticked out of his hat dance, your heart fluttered.
Ace as feared as he was, he always seemed to be so tender with you, your presence was like a lullaby to him. You put your instrument away and stared at him a while more.
Love is tender, and for Ace, love was also in your orbit
𝄞₊ ⊹
Hey! This is just a little something I wrote, I actually had fun so if you like it tell me!
#drabble#one piece#portgas d ace#one piece x reader#portgas d ace x reader#portgas d ace x you#portgas d ace x y/n#one piece x y/n#ace x reader#ace x you#ace x y/n#writing#one piece fanfiction#ace#Spotify
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SWK: *Starts beatboxing*
Sha Wujing: *Starts strumming on a makeshift string instrument*
SWK: *Makes a clone to keep beatboxing and starts rapping*
Zhu Bajie: *Drops a sick lyrical chorus*
Tripitaka: CAN YOU GUYS PLEASE BE NORMAL MONKS FOR ONCE????
Tripitaka: AND YOU. *points to Ao Lie who’s about to start stomping to the beat* DONT.
(So I still have ideas as to Wukong rapping on the Journey West)
OMGs yes! (I do too. I have a lot of thoughts)
But like Wukong not liking the other pilgrims much at first so he doesn't rap around them because he's like this is my thing but then during one particularly tough battle Wukong starts rapping to give himself motivation and everyone is like "WTF is happening" but Tripitaka knows and he's like "don't worry it's just brother Sun" but the other pilgrims are still like "huh?"
Then one night around the campfire Tripitaka asks the others if they have any songs they'd like to share and so the others share what they have. It eventually circles around to Wukong who's still a little "eh" with them (still) but with some goading (plus Wukong wanting to one up Zhu Bajie) Wukong is convinced to show them this "rapping" he's come up with. Wukong relaxes and starts by listening to the nature around them and his own heartbeat whispering the made up lyrics to himself. Ao Lie, who sitting closest to him starts tapping his feet adding more of a beat, and then Wukong slowly gets louder and faster and Sha Wujing, Ao Lie, and Zhu Bajie absolutely LOVE it. Like they're cheering on Wukong and trying their best to spit verses of their own and over all just having a fucking ball while Tripitaka is over in the corner like "what did I start".
Rapping later becomes the pilgrims go to while they're traveling, like instead of singing "99 bottles of beer on the wall" their rapping to the sound of Ao Lie's hooves on the ground. It's how nearby villages knew they were coming, all they had to do is stick an ear to the wind and listen for the sounds.
It later becomes their battle cry. Scaring off half the demons that try to fight them.
And eventually they wear down Tripitaka into spitting some verses of his own. They all cheer so loudly when this happens they scare a group of mountain spirits.
(angst city) And then the other pilgrims die (however that happened) and Wukong just stops. Rapping started out as a 'him' thing but it slowly became a "them" thing. it was one of the pillars of their friendship and losing the pilgrims meant he lost the motivation to rap. It died along with them.
And then one day Wukong turns on the radio and what does he hear? A rap song. And the voice of the guy rapping sounds like one of the pilgrims and Wukong just loses it. He curls up in a ball and doesn't talk to any of the other monkeys for at least a day.
#I wanna keep talking but this seems like a good place to end#rapping wukong#lmk#lego monkie kid#lmk sun wukong#lmk monkey king#lmk ao lie#lmk Tripitaka#lmk zhu bajie#lmk sha wujing#ask#thanks for the ask!#love this headcanon#lmk headcanon
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[Tiny Dream AU] Playtime
Hob is working, but Tiny Dream wants attention. He wants to be played with. Look, he even has a sex dungeon ready.
For sandmanniversary2023 Day 1: Collection / Stargazing / Size Kink
I'm honestly still in shock that I've written something like this. The Sandman fandom has changed me as a person. 👀 Anyway, please enjoy, and I hope you all still think well of me after reading this. 🙇♀️ (For scientific purposes, here's the AO3 link. 😏)
CW: This is pure unapologetic filth. The main CWs are: soft dom Hob, horny Tiny!Dream having a vulva, sex dungeon and sex toys, size kink, size difference, multiple orgasms, and dirty talk.
Important: A typical Barbie doll is 11.5 inches (29cm) tall. Tiny!Dream is 12 inches (30cm) tall.
"Hob."
"Just a minute, darling," Hob says distractedly. He's currently uploading his students' grades, and it's a task that he has difficulty with (due to the university's crap online grading system), so he is justified in ignoring Dream for just one measly minute.
A truly heart-wrenching sigh sounds from behind him, and Hob, despite himself, turns to look.
Dream's floating doll castle, which had originally been the dollhouse of a New Inn employee's child that they have recently outgrown, is in its usual place in the corner of his study. The black banners are still flying in an unseen wind, the highest tower is still where the rookery is, and Hob can't really tell right now if Dream has changed anything about the exterior, except--
Oh.
That's new.
Usually, the interior of the doll house ("Doll castle," Dream had insisted), shows only a single room: the room where Dream currently is. Hob doesn't quite know how it works, if it rotates, or if it has a bigger-on-the-inside technology like the TARDIS. (Hob doesn't say that to Dream, though, because he has enough daddy issues already.)
Well, the room where Dream is at right now is a room Hob has never seen before.
Oh, he's seen the library, the gardens, and even the swimming pool, but this is the first time he's seeing the sex dungeon.
He wonders if Dream made the room just now, as he often builds and decorates rooms while Hob is working to amuse himself. And after, he would proudly tour Hob around, showing him the changes he made and his latest rooms, like a very lovely Sims youtuber. (Yet another thing that Hob won't say to Dream, in case he gets irrationally jealous, and cause all Sims youtubers to lose inspiration and have nightmares for a year minimum.)
(Hob doesn't think that Dream would actually do that, but he's not willing to risk it.)
"I'm bored," Tiny Dream says imperiously upon a throne-like bondage chair, his feet already on the stirrups. He's only wearing provocative black lingerie that shows off his pretty little tits, and isn't that a treat to see. He gestures to the large array of toys and tools on the stainless steel instrument table placed close to the viewing area, so Hob could easily access them. "Play with me."
Hob licks his lips as his eyes roam over Dream's form. Dream preens and thrusts his chest out some more for inspection. Lovely thing. "Haven't conjured a fucking machine for yourself yet, darling?"
Dream sticks his lower lip out. Not a pout--god forbid, Dream would never admit to doing that--but close. He's so adorable when he's horny. "I prefer when you play with me."
Hob hums and wheels his office chair closer, surveying the little toys and tools. He knows they work just as well as the human-sized ones, and doesn't require batteries to operate. "You know I still have to upload my students' grades, yeah?"
Dream huffs and shoots a glare over Hob's shoulder towards his laptop. Hob hopes he won't set it on fire like he did the last time. "Do they take priority over me?"
Hob smiles at him and pokes him gently on the tummy. The pad of his forefinger almost encompasses half of Dream's stomach area. "You know nothing in this world has priority over you."
Dream raises his chin, and Hob does not miss the little 'hmph!' sound he made, though his cheeks flush with pleasure at Hob's words. "Then prove it."
"Taunting me?" Hob asks, and gently caresses Dream's cheek. "That's not very nice." He picks up the little handcuffs from the instrument table and shows them to Dream. "Color?"
Dream sighs, impatient to begin as always, but answers dutifully. "Green."
Hob makes a kissy sound because he cannot possibly give Dream a kiss on the lips right now, and snaps the handcuffs around Dream's wrists before fastening the chain on the hook above the chair. "All good?"
Dream nods. "Yes."
Hob then adjusts the stirrups so Dream's cute little butt is exposed even more. He spies the tell-tale wetness dripping from Dream's pussy and hole, and tsks. "What a mess you're already making, darling. So wet for me and we haven't even begun."
Dream squirms but does not close his legs. "It's not my fault you made me wait."
"For a few seconds?" Hob asks incredulously. "No, I don't think that would do. I think good boys need to learn how to wait." He picks up a couple of vibrating dildos from the instrument table and flicks their switches. They turn on and buzz against his fingers. "How many times do you think you'll cum with these while I finish my task?"
Dream whines. "Hob, please--"
"How many, Dream?"
"I don't--"
"You don't know? Poor baby," Hob coos. "Shall we find out? Will you count for me?"
Dream squirms a little, but nods bravely, and Hob could hear a tiny squelching sound against the seat. Adorable. He's going to have the chair covered in his slick by the time Hob is done with him.
--
Hob...does his best to upload his students' grades correctly, and in doing so takes longer than he usually would have, as he keeps getting distracted with the sound of Dream orgasming again and again behind him, and him actively listening for Dream saying his safeword. He feels like he's taking ages.
By the time the task is finally done though, he is rock hard inside his trousers, and he has counted a grand total of 37 orgasms. And not once had Dream uttered his safeword or, in his overwhelmed state, changed back to human-sized Dream.
And when Hob finally shut his laptop down and looks behind him--
"Oh, my love."
Dream looks wrecked. He is a drooling, teary-eyed mess, weakly fucking himself on his toys that Hob had made sure would not slip out of him with a couple of harnesses. His holes look beautiful around the toys, puffy and swollen and lovely pink in color. Were it not for the harnesses, the dildos would have slipped out completely. As it was, they remained buried deep inside Dream, and possibly reaching deeper inside him as time went on and he got looser.
And the chair Dream is sitting on? Entirely drenched in slick and cum. A section of the dungeon floor near the chair is even wet. Dream must have orgasmed so hard he squirted. Perhaps multiple times.
Hob bites his lip and touches himself through his trousers, just watching Dream for a few seconds more, as he moans weakly and squeezes around his toys, though he shudders and releases more slick when he turns his head a little and sees Hob's attention is now focused entirely on him.
Beautiful thing. Hob has never seen anything quite so exquisite. Hob unbuckles his belt and undresses, taking his time with it and watching Dream ride his toys a little harder when Hob's cock is revealed, already thick and coated in precome.
Hob smirks. Too bad that's currently not for Dream to play with today, no matter how much he begs.
"Okay, love?"
Dream shudders at the sound of his voice and nods, moaning Hob's name weakly. But he says something else too, though it was too low for Hob to catch.
"What was that, lovely?"
"Thir-thirty seven," Dream says, staring into Hob's eyes lovingly. "I counted. You told me to count a-and I did."
Oh, Hob's chest is bursting with pride. He turns off the toys, ignoring Dream's whine, and reaches for the rope on one side of the room to ring the castle's dumbwaiter for some water.
Because of course Dream's doll castle has a dumbwaiter in every room.
The water arrives immediately, and Hob carefully maneuvers the small pitcher to pour water over an equally small glass, puts the straw in, and holds the glass in front of Dream's face.
Dream drinks the water dutifully. Hob makes him drink until the pitcher is empty, then returns the serving tray to the dumbwaiter to send it back to be magically cleaned.
"Color?"
"Green," Dream says.
Hob strokes his cock and holds his precome-covered thumb in front of Dream's face.
Dream immediately leans forward and starts licking the surface like a cat. When he is done and has placed a kiss on the pad of Hob's thumb, Hob withdraws his hand and just gazes at him with love and pride both.
The toys are still inside Dream, but they seem like an afterthought to him at the moment, more focused is he on angling his body to better show himself off to Hob's loving eyes.
"My good boy," Hob murmurs, and gently unclasps the harnesses and even more gently pulls the dildos out of Dream's body. Dream mewls at the action, his tiny little pussy and hole twitching cutely even as they gaped for a second when the toys are removed. Hob caresses his long pale legs softly with a forefinger. "Oh, my sweet, obedient little boy. You did so well for me."
Dream sobs as his legs tremble at Hob's words and his touch. "Want you."
"And you will have me," Hob promises him. "But later. When you're back to human-sized. Now, I know you've been gagging to have the double-ended dildo inside both your holes while you're in this form, and I think you deserve--"
"No," Dream shakes his head. "I want..." He falters for a moment, shy, and Hob urges him on with soft comforting sounds. If he can provide whatever it was, then Dream will have it. "I want your thumb."
Hob's forefinger, currently rubbing Dream's left leg up and down, freezes in place. "Darling--"
Dream whines. "I'm loose enough," he says. "I can take it. I made sure I could."
Hob looks towards the dildos he set aside doubtfully. They weren't big enough to prepare either of Dream's holes for his thumb.
And then it hit him.
"You changed the toys' size while I had my back turned."
Now Dream pouts. "It's not my fault you weren't paying attention to me."
Hob could not help but grin at that sign of disobedience. It seems like Dream still has some brattiness left to fuck out of him.
"Well," Hob says generously, and resumes rubbing Dream's leg with his forefinger, "now that you have my full attention, let's see how well you stretch for me, hmm?"
Dream looks up hopefully. "You'll give me your thumb?"
Hob chuckles. "I don't think so, naughty boy. I'm afraid that's a treat for the truly well-behaved boys. And while you had been good counting your orgasms for me, and you did tell me how you got yourself stretched so beautifully, you also did not follow my instruction to the letter. And we did talk about safewords and shapeshifting in general before we did this play, yes?"
Dream nods, but now he looks miserable, probably thinking that Hob isn't going to give him any reward at all.
Hob is not that cruel. And especially not to Dream, whom he loves most in the world. "Oh, darling." Hob carefully wipes a tear from Dream's cheek. "I will give you a reward. Just not my thumb right now."
"The double-ended dildo then, please," Dream says, politely now. "And I won't change its size or...or be naughty again."
Hob rubs his forefinger on Dream's head in a patting motion. "Good boy. But I was thinking if maybe you would like to have something else instead."
Dream tilts his head curiously. "What do you suggest?"
Hob rubs Dream's arms to check if he's still okay, and Dream nods once. "What about my pinky?"
Hob immediately feels Dream's entire body perking up at that, and hurries to add, "Not entirely inside, of course, but...well, just the tip."
--
Dream is having the time of his life as Hob (very carefully) fucks him with the very tip of his liberally lubed pinky. He's holding on to the connecting chain of his cuffs for dear life, and his legs had all but wrapped themselves around Hob's wrist, toes curling and entire body rocking with Hob's thrusts.
"Hob, oh, please--your pinky is stretching me so good--" Dream's head is tilted backwards, and Hob could bet that his eyes are rolling up his head as well. "More. More, please. Fill me. Fill me, I need it--"
Hob makes gentle shushing noises but continues to give Dream what he wants. "Look at your pretty little pussy, darling, slicking my finger even further and looking so tempting. And your tiny hole gaping so wonderfully wide. Do you really think you can take my thumb someday?"
Dream sobs. "I can take it now. Please! I promise, I promise, I can take it--"
"I said no, darling," Hob says sternly, though Dream just whines at the sound of his strict voice and more slick gushes out of him. "Now, are you just about to cum?"
Dream nods wildly. Orgasm number 40 is far behind them, and frankly, Hob doesn't know what number they're on right now. "Alright, baby. One last orgasm out of you, and then I'll give you some lovely aftercare."
Warning issued, Hob fucks him harder, and Dream wails as almost a quarter of Hob's pinky breaches him. "Feels good?" Hob asks, an idea forming in his head. When Dream does not answer verbally and just nods, Hob knows that he's about to squirt at any time.
He stills his pinky while the tip is still inside and, before Dream could cry in protest and curse his balls to shrivel up, Hob has leaned forward and thrust just the very tip of his warm tongue inside Dream's slutty little cunt while his pinky resumes thrusting in and out of Dream's loose hole. Dream's legs tighten around his wrist in shock, and when Hob flicks his tongue just the tiniest amount, making contact with Dream's swollen clit--
Dream shrieks and his thighs tremble, his pussy squirting all over Hob's tongue, with Hob immediately lapping up his juices, moaning all the while, his own cock drooling precome on the floor at Dream's taste.
When he surfaces, Dream is limp, body twitching intermittently, but his legs remained tight around Hob's wrist, and he smiles when he meets Hob's gaze. "Do I taste good?"
Hob licks his lips and gently arranges Dream's legs back on the stirrups, then uncuffs Dream's wrists, massaging his arms and carefully laying him down on the seat. "Always, darling," Hob tells him. "You know you always taste so fucking delicious, even when you're tiny."
Dream moans and licks his lips. "Want to taste you as well," he slurs out. "Cum on me. I want to finger myself with your cum all over me."
Hob curses. "Darling--"
"Please," Dream says. "Just one more. Just need to see you play with yourself too. Show me that I can make you feel good, too."
Hob is helpless to resist. Dream is looking up with him with literal heart eyes, and he has even waved away his lingerie, leaving him entirely naked. He really wants to be covered in cum from head to toe.
Hob stands and starts pumping himself, looking at Dream spreading his legs wide, wet gaping holes on display, and even--
"Fuck."
"Yes?" Dream asks innocently even as he places his palms on his asscheeks to open himself up further, to make sure he catches Hob's seed inside both his holes.
The final straw is Dream opening his mouth, tongue out, waiting so very patiently for Hob to shower him with cum.
Hob groans and aims as best he could, stroking once, twice, thrice, his cum landing on Dream's chin area and filling his mouth but not his nose, his flat abdomen, his long, pale legs, and yes, the greatest amount right at his spread open holes.
Dream moans throatily as he gets covered. "So warm," he mumbles, sounding cumdrunk and totally out of it. "You came so much."
Hob wrings the last drops over Dream's waiting mouth, which has already swallowed his earlier shot. Dream receives it gratefully and even cheekily leans upward to lick at the head of Hob's cock. Hob shouldn't even feel the tiny tongue, but the smallest pressure of it has him shivering, and another dollop of cum is wrung out of him. "Fuck, Dream, you absolute minx--"
Dream rubs the cum on his abdomen over his breasts, squeezing his tits together and pinching his nipples. "We should've used the nipple clamps."
"Next time," Hob promises breathlessly. "And I'll attach vibrators to them, too."
Dream shudders at that image and his hands fly to his holes, one hand fingering his pussy, and the other one fingering his hole, getting a copious amount of Hob's cum inside him.
"Fuck," Hob says, enthralled at the slutty display. He wishes he could have filmed their session.
"Tell me," Dream says. "Tell me what you want to do to me next time."
His insatiable little boyfriend. Just one more he says, but at this rate, and if Hob doesn't put his foot down and get him some more water and provide him aftercare, they're going to be at this all night.
"If you're good," Hob begins, "I'll let you play with my cock all afternoon. I know it's almost as big as you, darling, so don't even think about putting me inside you, but you can worship me as you like; lick me or rub your cute tits on me--"
"I'm going to sit at the tip," Dream tells him, still fingering himself and getting more worked up as he speaks. "Right where your slit is. And I'm going to grind on you until your precome drenches my entire lower body. Until you cum right into my holes. I'm going to wrap my legs around you and make sure all your tasty cum is deposited inside me I could taste it on the back of my throat."
Hob groans at that and his cock twitches at the image. "Dream--"
"Tell me," Dream pleads, and Hob realizes that the rhythm of Dream's fingers are becoming erratic.
Hob smiles down at him and runs his forefinger up and down Dream's cum-slick torso. Dream mewls at the contact and thrusts his fingers faster. "I didn't think tiny you would be so much sluttier than human-sized you, but here you are, proving me wrong. How can my good boy be such a whore? Always wanting my cum all over him and pushing it deep inside his holes? What are you trying to achieve here, baby? Are you trying to get my seed to take? Is that it? You want to be round and pregnant when we do this next time? Lactating from your pert little breasts while you squirt all over yourself on my tongue? On my thumb?"
Dream wails, high and helpless, as Hob's words and his accompanying daydreams make him cum once more, his own fingers deep inside himself, while Hob gently massages his breasts with his fore and middle fingers, rubbing his cute little nipples.
Hob watches him raptly, his beautiful, ridiculously sexy boyfriend, and waits until he stops cumming, murmuring soft words all the while and helping him down from his high.
As he's waiting, he rings the dumbwaiter for some more water, and once again carefully handles the tiny pitcher and the glass that came with it.
"Here, darling," Hob says when Dream's orgasm tapers off, leaving him limp and lying on the seat, totally drained. "Have some more water."
Dream gratefully sips from the straw, and Hob once again gets him to drink until the entire pitcher is empty.
Once it is, and once Hob has set the tray back inside the dumbwaiter, he turns his entire focus on Dream, who is still absently scooping more of Hob's cum inside his holes.
"Feel better?" Hob asks him, rubbing at his legs and calves in between his forefinger and thumb.
Dream hums, still idly fingering himself. "Yes, thank you."
"Feeling adequately played with?"
Now Dream smirks up at him and squeezes his holes, making Hob's cum drip from them. Hob groans and looks away so he wouldn't be tempted to lick Dream all over. Like the little minx is probably wanting. "Yes, Hob. Thank you for playing with me."
Hob snorts at that and shakes his head. "Alright, enough of that, you ridiculous thing. Time to bathe, and then you're gonna turn human-sized for some proper cuddling."
Dream hums and allows Hob to lift him from the seat carefully with his hands, then scoops his entire body up with a single hand. Dream waves his hand so the doll castle's sex dungeon is replaced with the master bathroom, and he waits patiently as Hob fiddles with the giant bathtub with one hand and it fills with warm fragrant water.
"I love you," Dream says, still sitting on the palm of Hob's hand and playing with his fingers. "Thank you for indulging me today."
Hob leans down to kiss the top of Dream's head. "Of course, darling. Anything you need."
#tiny dream AU#dreamling#the sandman#sandmanniversary2023#my writing#good job my thumbs#(yelling into a pillow) WHY DID I WRITE THIS#3500 words of spicy spice ✨️
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In this today's chapter... (Drum rolls, please) It's Venti's turn!! (Scaramouche is now called Wanderer in here)
To know more about the story, read chapter 1 and 2 first ^^
Perviously...
Xiao joined the music club that was suggested (encouraged) by Venti! Now, you're the club manager, more like a band manager.
You're currently on your way back to the clubroom after shopping for some clothes with Heizou. Both of you returned to the clubroom to check up on the others. Apparently, you assigned them tasks, such as practicing and honing their skills on their respective instruments or refining their choreography.
Everyone was exhausted from the moderately challenging tasks. As soon as you slid the door open, a chilling gust of wind and an eerie atmosphere engulfed you. The deeper you ventured into the room, the more oppressive the feeling became. You spotted Xiao hunched over the table, his head supported by his hand. Relief washed over you at the sight of someone familiar.
"Goodness, Xiao," you exclaimed. "You really startled me. What happened to the clubroom? How did it end up like this?"
You scanned the gloomy clubroom as you spoke. Xiao replied, "We pushed ourselves too hard." Heizou entered and pulled Venti and Wanderer out, asking, "What's going on?" Venti, lying on the ground, responded with a laid-back tone that contrasted with his somber appearance, "We were just working ourselves to the bone."
"Alright!! From now on, let's work hard to improve our band!" Venti exclaimed. "I think I know a live venue. I can try to get you guys in," you offered, taking out your phone to search for the live venue's location. "Ooh, it's not so far from my house," Heizou mentioned. "Maybe we can drop by Heizou's place! Hehhe..." Venti chuckled. "My mother isn't that strict, so it's fine," Heizou added. After a while, you shared all the information about the live venue and the plan
You sighed and opened the curtains and the window. "Also, where's Kazuha?" Heizou asked. Kazuha entered the clubroom with a bunch of cookies on a tray he was carrying. "Anyone want some cookies?" Kazuha said with a smile on his face and bright eyes. "YES!!" everyone exclaimed and sat down to enjoy the fresh cookies. "Delicious!" You complimented the cookies; they tasted like Subway's cookies. They all ate happily. "Kazuha always makes great cookies, nom nom," Venti praised with his mouth full of red velvet cookies. "You know, maybe you could teach me how to cook sometime!" You suggested. "Last year, I was in the cooking club, so, of course, I know how to make several snacks." Kazuha took one of the cookies and fed himself, a small sparkle lighting up Kazuha's eyes. "hmm... nom nom," Kazuha said with a contented expression.
"right, so all we need to do is to have a song!"
After the club meeting ended, everyone said their goodbyes and headed home. You were walking back when Venti quickly caught up, exclaiming, 'Hey there, Y/N! Wait for meeee!!' Venti grabbed your hand, 'Let's stop at this new maid cafe!' Venti pointed at the cafe, and you were intrigued, chuckling as you entered.
Venti may appear to be very extroverted, but he prefers to converse with those he's already friends with. Since you're childhood friends with Venti, you can probably predict his every move. He and Shenhe were the kind of people you never thought you'd need.
"Hmm!! The chocolate mint cake actually tastes good!" Venti exclaimed. "Say ahh~!!" He carefully placed a small portion on his fork to share with you, knowing you didn't have any money and just wanted to accompany him. "Ahh..! Nom." You eagerly took a bite, savoring the delightful blend of mint and the rich flavors of chocolate and peanuts. "It tastes amazing, actually!" You were pleasantly surprised by the unexpected treat. Initially, both of you had doubts about the cake's taste, but now you both realized it was quite delicious!
Talking about Venti, hes not that very interested in trends or anything, he just like to stick to his own clan instead of trying to fit in.
After paying, Venti walks happily with you all the way home, content after satisfying his appetite. Venti chuckles, then strides forward and glances back at you while still walking, saying, 'Let's dine there again sometime! I'd love to treat you once more...' He mischievously laughs as he playfully runs away from you.
You were confused by Venti's new behaviour.
#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin imagines#5wirl x reader#genshin venti#xiao genshin impact#genshin impact venti#genshin impact kazuha#genshin impact heizou#venti x reader#venti x gn!reader#4nemo x reader#genshin impact headcanons#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact x female reader#genshin impact x male reader
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Thanks for the tag @there-goes-thefighter
Rules: bold (I also did purple because I have trouble seeing the bold sometimes) the ones that are true and then tag 15 people to do it too!
Appearance:
i’m over 5’5” // i wear glasses/contacts // i have blonde hair // i prefer loose clothing to tight clothing // i have one or more piercings // i have at least one tattoo // i have blue eyes // i have dyed or highlighted my hair // i have gotten plastic surgery // i have or had braces // i sunburn easily // i have freckles // i paint my nails // i typically wear make-up // i don’t often smile // i am pleased with how i look // i prefer nike to adidas // i wear baseball hats backwards
Hobbies + Talents:
i play a sport // i can play an instrument // i am artistic // i know more than one language // i have won a trophy in some sort of competition // i can cook or bake without a recipe // i know how to swim // i enjoy writing // i can do origami // i prefer movies to tv shows // i can execute a perfect somersault // i enjoy singing // i could survive in the wild on my own // i have read a new book series this year // i enjoy spending time with friends // i travel during school or work breaks // i can do a handstand
Relationships:
i am in a relationship // i have been single for over a year // i have a crush // i have a best friend i have known for ten years // my parents are together // i have dated my best friend // i am adopted // my crush has confessed to me // i have a long distance relationship // i am an only child // i give advice to my friends // i have made an online friend // i met up with someone i have met online
Aesthetics:
i have heard the ocean in a conch shell // i have watched the sun rise // i enjoy rainy days // i have slept under the stars // i meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me // i enjoy the smell of the beach // i know what snow tastes like // i listen to music to fall asleep // i enjoy thunderstorms // i enjoy cloud watching // i have attended a bonfire // i pay close attention to colours // i find mystery in the ocean // i enjoy hiking on nature paths // autumn is my favourite season
Miscellaneous:
i can fall asleep in a moving vehicle // i am the mom friend // i live by a certain quote // i like the smell of sharpies // i am involved in extracurricular activities // i enjoy mexican food // i can drive a stick-shift // i believe in true love // i make up scenarios to fall asleep // i sing in the shower // i wish i lived in a video game // i have a canopy above my bed // i am multiracial // i am a redhead // i own at least three dogs
Soft tagging - no pressure babes - @blind-the-winds @saltysupercomputer @ceph-the-ghost-writer @toribookworm22 @perasperaadastrawriting @writingmaidenwarrior @late-to-the-fandom @aziz-reads @outpost51 @words-after-midnight @touloserlautrec @sunset-a-story @sarah-sandwich-writes
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Ideas that would be cool to explore in future Sky seasons
Exploring more of the Ancient’s relationship with light creatures. It could take place in Daylight Prairie, and include new calls and have memories and quests showcasing how Ancients would bond with light creatures such as mantas - and as the quests go on, we see these relationships harmed by the increasing greed of the Ancients - maybe ending with the first war between the Ancients and light creatures. Maybe it could also have a lake you can explore underwater.
Something that explores more of the lore surrounding the King and Elders. With this season update we would also get more elder masks (anywhere from 50-300 ascended candles) and elder outfits (20-35 ascended candles as they wouldn’t do anything). Maybe we’d view the memories of those who took care of the temples - maybe priests, messengers, or aids. We could learn how the Elders fell from the stars, how the Megabird was worshipped, and what the Sky Kingdom used to look like. I just think that would be really cool.
exploring how darkness works would also be cool. Maybe there’s a god of darkness? The season would go into krill, darkstone, and dark crabs. Maybe it’s a team of researchers investigating darkstone - maybe one of them is even being corrupted by it. Maybe in the end, we can learn to heal corrupted creatures - maybe we could heal a krill? The final quest (I got this idea from krill purification concept art) could focus around a dying krill whose physical form we burn away, before taking their fire/light core to Eden and being reborn with them. And then the krill becomes a light creature we can visit/ride/hug ❤️
on a much lighter note, I know the Valley of Triumph gets a ton of attention but there could be like a Season of Victory in it where we follow two competing teams through the citadel, ice rink, and coliseum. Maybe we could open up that other door in the coliseum too, and add some more minigames for wax (folks.., like all the wax games are in Valley…. let’s give the other realms some love)
another season that takes place underwater (or has stuff to do underwater). Idk what it would be about but I wanna go underwater
this could fit into many seasons (and regular areas too) but I’d like to see more of what life was like before the Storm. Literally they could just stick more murals places and add boxes/crates with stuff in them or hang instruments and papers (like maps, music sheets, kids drawings, etc) on the wall. They could add fabric flapping in the wind and empty broken tables and abandoned stuffed light creatures and other children’s toys, old candles melted on shelves and blankets/beds/pillows and hammocks, cracked plates on the tables and old vases. It would give much more of a sense of this being a world that had once lived, breathed, and loved
I’m sort of getting off topic from seasons specifically but more words would be nice. More hidden places where distant whispers will tell us the story of Sky. Maybe there’s words telling us the story of the King on the Prophecy murals. Maybe the elders talk to us, thank us, remember the mistakes they made and encourage us onwards.
I just think these would be cool. Please comment/reblog with your own ideas, I’d love to hear them!
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A Dream Come True (Chp. 1)
Chapter 1/? : An Unconscious Fantasy
Word count: 4007
You are a young librarian working in the heart of Gralea. Some would say your life was dull, but you were content. That is, until you began having strange dreams featuring a man forgotten by time. Who is he, and what do these dreams mean?
Start of a long fic I am writing. Hope you guys enjoy! Unfortunately I probably won’t be able to stick to a consistent upload schedule for chapters, but this work is well underway!
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The streets were already packed with the morning crowds. Everyone busily stomping their way towards another long Monday. The occasional car horn would bounce along the endless skyscrapers, dulled by the time it reached your ears. Someone talked loudly into a phone as they passed you, but the conversation was no more unique than the countless others taking place all around you. Pigeons cooed at someone’s dropped breakfast, now for the taking. Engines roared, people yapped, somewhere a dog barked.
You hated all the noise, but such was life living in Gralea.
Most made their way either to their preferred coffee shop or straight to work, and you were no different. Skipped on the coffee though; it had never affected you. Besides, being afflicted with perpetual tiredness made the early hour marginally bearable. So you made your way towards the City Center, weaving through the sea of faceless bodies. A cold wind funneled through the buildings, yet to be heated by the morning sun. You gripped your bag tightly; wouldn’t want it to get caught by sticky fingers. Light music touched your ears over the boom of the city as you approached. Ah, the street band was already playing.
The skyscrapers cleared as you reached the center. A large, open square paved with elegant white bricks. It stretched for several blocks in each direction, connecting all the largest streets before they weaved back into the city. Flags with the imperial emblem dotted the corners, billowing in the breeze. A fountain lazily gushed water in the middle, people sitting on its perimeter drinking from paper cups and staring at their phones. Behind the fountain, you spotted the band in their usual spot, tucked into a corner with the wall of an old building as their backdrop. Some people stopped to watch for a few seconds before moving on. Some even dropped a few gil in the various instrument cases displayed before the band. Most people just ignored them.
Not far from here was your place of employment; the city library. Sometimes people were surprised to hear you were a librarian, something about wasted youth, but you were pleased with the arrangement. The city paid you a decent wage, and it gave you a place to escape from the hustle and bustle of city life for most of the day. Plus, you got to spend most of your shift reading. It was a laid back job, and it paid your bills.
You skirted the edge of the square, pace unwavering as you marched on. The library was only a few blocks down, you were almost there. You thought about the books you tucked away in the check-out desk last week. They would be your source of entertainment for the day to come. What would befall the characters of your chosen tale you wondered.
Finally, the entrance to the library came into view. It was an impressive building; forged of rough red bricks with carvings of Spiracorns chiseled into the stone. The entrance lay tucked beneath a large awning held up by stone pillars. It was at least 200 years old, made evident by the proud banners proclaiming another anniversary draped on dark street lamps. The place had more than just historical and architectural value to you though. It represented your sanctuary.
Pulling the keys out of a pocket, they jingled happily as you approached the double doors. You checked your phone, 6:59 a.m., perfectly on schedule. Unlocking both doors, you pushed your way inside through the lobby, flicking on the lights as you passed. You headed straight to your desk, not far from the foyer, taking your place behind it in your plush chair. Most librarians would spend the slow morning hours organizing any books that were returned or displaced, but you always did so at the end of your shift instead. You sighed contently as you sat, pulling your beloved tomes out from their compartment. Today would be a good day, you decided.
And indeed it was. The library was always decently busy, but you remained relatively undisturbed throughout the day. The occasional person would inevitably come to your desk, plopping their own selection before you with a thump, waiting expectantly as you scanned and logged each book lent out. You greeted your regulars with a smile, met with a wave or a greeting of their own. Some people tried to chat with you, but you weren’t the social type. For the most part, your nose remained buried in your own literature, visiting other worlds with ease in your mind's eye. These were the days you enjoyed the most.
The light from the large, high windows waxed, then waned as the day progressed. Before you knew it, the half hour before closing approached. Time to organize and warn the stragglers you would be locking up soon. Taking the cumbersome trolley out from under the desk and placing the day's returns on it, you made your rounds. You cheerfully warned anyone you passed that you’d be closing soon, customer service persona in full effect. The last guests meandered their way to the front, either making last minute check-outs or heading straight for the door. Soon you were left alone in the massive building, locking the doors after the last guest. Before you could follow them, you finished organizing and tidying up the place. Ready for the day tomorrow.
By the time you closed the doors behind you, only a sliver of evening sun remained. You walked home as twilight descended on the city, the night life beginning to stir. You arrived at your apartment complex without fanfare, taking the elevator up to the 10th floor. You had a decent view from up here, but not as luxurious as those on the very top.
Your apartment itself wasn’t much to speak of either. Quaint, some would call it. Cheap was another term you heard frequently. The furniture was old, worn from countless moves during university. You couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of it though. Each scuff or tear had its own memories attached. As for decoration, mostly you chose to do so by hanging up various posters of movies and TV shows. Not exactly classy, but it made you feel at home. Your own little safe haven.
Once you entered the small living space, you kicked off your flats carelessly, wishing to get into something more comfortable. You set your bag down on the black sofa as you padded to your bedroom, removing your clothes as you walked. A loose T-shirt and shorts would suffice while relaxing at home. As you paced back into your small living room, you snatched the TV remote from your wooden coffee table, turning something on as you went to make dinner.
It was nothing fancy, leftovers you’d made for the week yesterday. They heated up nicely in the microwave. Grabbing your warm plate, you settled on the couch to watch whatever channel you’d left it on. You hadn’t really been paying attention, so it was only now you noticed you’d tuned into the news.
“The Niflheim Army continues to make steady progress across the Kingdom of Lucis. Magitek casualties remain minimal while the Lucian forces are pushed back each day. While it would be naive to think the end is near, the progress being made could signal a turning point in the war.”
You wrinkled your nose at the TV screen as if it had offended you. You’d never really been a fan of the war. It all seemed like pointless violence to you. It didn’t help that the Emperor spouted propaganda about Niflheim being ‘the rightful owners of the Crystal and ring.’ It made no difference to you who had what, and the loss of life certainly didn’t seem worth something so arbitrary.
You quickly changed the channel as you shoved another forkful of food into your mouth. You landed on some cartoons, which you settled with for the rest of your meal. Some of the obvious jokes would make you smile, but mostly you just enjoyed the animation. You began cleaning up as the characters beat each other with wooden mallets.
Turning off the TV after rinsing your plate, you made your way to the bathroom. Stripping your clothes, you gingerly step into the bathtub to shower. The warm water soothed you as you washed. Once finished, you hastily dry off, soaking the tile floor in a thin layer of water. You then eagerly snuggled into bed, humming in pleasure as you settled in for the night. Sleep was already encroaching on your consciousness.
The day had been rather ordinary, but pleasant despite that. You would follow the same routine tomorrow, as you had for the last 4 years. A simple life to be sure, but you were more than happy with it.
That is, until you started dreaming that night.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You opened your eyes with a start, feeling slightly disoriented upon first regaining sight. When your eyes refocused, you found yourself standing before a small, rundown village. A wide dirt path ran down the center, framed by small wooden homes on either side. Some people milled about, dressed in what appeared to be brown and white rags. Their faces were dirty and wrinkled, worn by either age or ceaseless work. One person led two bright, fluffy chocobos into rotting stables.
At first you were rather confused by the image. The town didn’t look like any place you knew in Niflheim. Sure, you hadn’t had the chance to travel much, but you’d been to small towns and rest stops outside the imperial capital. This was likely one of those.
You reached in your pocket for your phone, but the device was noticeably absent. Narrowing your eyes, you reevaluate your surroundings. No one else was using a phone either. Now that you were really looking, the lack of cell towers and cars also became conspicuous.
Then the realization hit you, feeling the truth of it hum through your body.
This is the past.
Or at least, this village was in the past. It would explain why everything looked so rundown and unkept, even the people. Their sense of clothing was the biggest giveaway. It looked like the old paintings you remember printed in history books. Plain and cookie cutter to be certain, but efficient nonetheless.
Your heart rate picked up. Why were you in the past? Where exactly are you? Will you scare these people? This doesn’t make any sense. Your thoughts ran wild, conjuring a hundred different scenarios in a few seconds. You felt your palms become clammy with stress.
Then a second epiphany hit you, much like the first one.
This was a dream.
You exhaled slowly, relieved. You smiled at yourself, feeling silly for honesty thinking you were actually in the past. Of course this was a dream. You’d just gone to bed not hours before.
You hesitantly entered the village, attempting to get a closer look at the inhabitants, now more curious than afraid. No one seemed to notice your presence. They were all occupied with some menial task. A woman swept at her porch with a broom made of hay, a hood of white cloth protecting her head from the sun. Some men talked animatedly a few houses down, laughing and spitting like cobras. A young boy shoveled greens into a trough for the arriving chocobos, who keened happily at the offering.
In the middle of your inspection, a sudden commotion made you jump slightly in surprise. You looked to your left for the source of the noise. A small crowd gathered near an entrance to the village, shouting and clapping as something approached. All you could see was a cloud of kicked up dust in the distance. You noticed more people joining the mass as the thing got closer. Your curiosity now at its peak, you make your way over to join them. You stand a little ways away though, still somewhat apprehensive of the scene.
The thing slowly came into view, and you recognized it as a person atop a black chocobo. The sight excited you; black chocobos were nearly extinct in your time. You’d always liked the gentle birds, so the possibility of seeing such a rare variant up close made you step forward enthusiastically. Maybe the man mounted on its back would let you pet his steed.
As the man finally rolled into town, he slowed to a trot. People swarmed him like angry flies, shouting above one another to garner his attention. You craned your neck to see, standing on your toes when that failed to improve your view. The man smiled gently down at the mob, not at all intimidated by their insatiable need. You noticed his clothes looked different, layered white robes in immaculate condition that made him look regal. His features were hard to discern from this distance.
The people closest to him backed up to allow him to dismount. Two men immediately rushed forward, taking the bird's reins and leading it away. The man nodded to them, an inaudible ‘thank you’ parting his lips. The crowd split down the middle to let the handlers pass.
Just as they walked by you, you heard the slamming of a door being thrown open. To your right, a woman had emerged from one of the small houses, running forward and waving her arms frantically. Her dress and apron collected dirt as she ran.
“My Lord! My Lord!” She cried, running up to the man in white and taking his hands. She had to shove her way through people, earning disgruntled murmurs in her wake. She bowed her head reverently as she continued to speak. “Please! It’s my son! The sickness has taken hold of him!” She began to weep as she finished, voice cracking with her last uttered words. The crowd dissipated, sensing that it was now time to allow them privacy. You, however, stayed rooted to the spot, watching the encounter with interest.
‘My Lord’? Is this man royalty? But she said something about a disease. Is he a doctor? He certainly doesn’t look the part. Maybe the people in this town say that as a sign of respect rather than status.
The man gently shushed her, lowering his head to speak softly. You knew you should probably let them have some space, but you couldn’t help but pace closer to hear what the man was saying.
“You need not despair. I will return your son to you.” His voice was smooth. Deep. Tone a gentle hum that was barely above a whisper. You found you quite liked the sound of it.
When he looked up at the house the woman came from, you fully took in his features. Hair a deep wine red you would have thought unnatural framed his expression, the excess tied back in a small bun. He had a chiseled face, jawline peppered with prickly stubble. His eyes were the color of the morning sun, a bright yellow that made your insides feel warm. He had a wide frame, and you could only imagine what may lay beneath his layers of clothing. He was at least a foot taller than you. Rather nice to look at, you concluded.
He looked back down at the woman, who was still hiccuping and sniffling. He gently squeezed her hands. “Come. Show me where he is.”
The woman raised her head to meet his gaze and nodded, wiping away some of her tears. She held his hand as she led him into the house. You followed closely behind. Apprehension once again seized your heart when they entered. This was definitely a private matter. It was none of your business. And yet, they hadn’t seemed to notice you following behind like a lost puppy. Surely it would be alright if you just watched. Besides, this was still a dream after all.
Your footsteps thumped against the wood as you resumed your pursuit. The woman made a path deep into the house, coming to a stop at a locked door. As she fumbled with the keys, the man patiently watching, you could discern the sound of snarling coming from the other side. Your heart drummed in your chest.
Just what is this?
The door opened, revealing a dark room devoid of any light. No windows, no candles, nothing. As your eyes adjusted to the gloom, a deep growl emitted from the darkness. You instinctively took a step back, as did the woman, but the man stared back, unwavering. Slowly, you made out the shape of a small boy slumped forward at the end of the room, head down. Black ropes connected him to the wall, fused into the wood. Wait, no, not ropes. Chains.
A moment passed in silence. Then, as if provoked, the boy began violently thrashing against his binds, growling and roaring and hissing like an enraged behemoth. It looked as if a black liquid poured from his eyes and mouth, reminding you of crude depictions of rabies victims, a sickly pale foam frothing from their mouths. His eyes looked black, sunken deep into his skull. The ghastly pus spilled onto the boy’s clothes, permanently staining them. You gasped quietly in surprise, feeling the blood drain from your face as you witnessed the scene.
He’s gone mad!
Wait…black liquid. Is that…Starscourge?
You knew of the affliction. But you’d never seen it in person. Never seen it turn a boy into a monster. You knew it turned the victims skin ashen, sometimes black. It drained them of their strength, turning vibrant young men and women into hollow shells. The Oracle usually cured those who contracted it, right? You’d never heard of a case this severe. You didn’t know this would be the outcome if untreated. It was universally fatal if left to fester, that much you knew. But was this what the final stages of the disease looked like?
And this man was going to cure it? But he can’t be the Oracle. The Oracle has always been a woman.
Dream logic? Probably.
The man turned to the mother, his expression set with a determined fierceness. “Give us a moment,” he murmured. She scurried away, seeming all too happy to leave the man to his devices. As she retreated, you gave her space to pass you, but she instead appeared to pass straight through you. No acknowledgement as she continued to the front of the house. You watched her with wide eyes as her frame disappeared through a doorway.
“Oh,” you breathed, not sure how else to express your surprise. You’d never been so utterly disregarded in a dream like this. It was like you were a ghost.
Close footsteps made you look back towards the dark room. You watched as the man entered, unafraid and unfazed by the snarling boy. His tantrum increased in intensity as the man got closer, the wooden walls creaking from the strain of his rage. You hesitantly followed, hugging the side of the room to stay out of the way, and out of reach.
The man stopped just before the child. He kneeled down, robes bunching up on the floor. The boy hissed in defiance, whipping his head around wildly. Without a single word, the man slowly reached a hand out to him. He did not touch him though. You leaned closer, studying them both intensely. Just as you thought nothing was happening, a black vapor appeared to glide from the boy to the man's hand. It disappeared into his skin, and you blinked, unsure if you saw correctly. The man trembled then, lowering his head in discomfort. You became worried, but before you could do anything, he stood, looking down at the boy with that same determination he started with. You looked too and - your breath caught.
The child was now completely limp, as if in deep slumber. What little you could see of him was untainted by that black icor now. His skin was a healthier pink, you could tell immediately, even in the dim lighting. His chest rose and fell evenly. The black ooze no longer poured down his face. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.
What…did you just see? That wasn’t like what you’d heard the Oracle did to cure the disease.
“It is done,” the man said, projecting his voice to carry through the house. Hurried footsteps echoed back. The man stood aside as the woman rushed to her son, unbinding his wrists before scooping him into her lap. Upon seeing his face, she cried out in joy, holding him tightly and stroking his head. The man watched with a fond smile, pleased with his work.
“I’ll leave you two alone.” With those parting words, the man strode out of the room. The woman didn’t seem to hear him, gently rocking herself as she cried. You looked between her and the door, unsure if you should stay and watch or pursue the man. A split second decision had you hastily following after him. He had presented too many questions that you couldn’t ignore.
He was already outside when you caught up. You came to stand beside him. There was so much you wanted to ask, but anxiety stilled your tongue. Your mind was writhing with unanswered questions. Nerves made sweat pool in your palms, but your curiosity overruled it.
“What was that? How did you cure him?” You posed, what you believed, were the most important questions. You watched his expression for a reaction, but it remained unchanged. A gentle smile, eyes slightly lidded. He seemed to be enjoying the afternoon sun. He did not even humor you with a glance.
“Wait! My Lord!” Behind you a voice cried out. You both turned to see the woman running towards him again. Now what?
She took his hands once more when she reached him, head bowed in that same reverent manor. “My Lord, you’ve saved my son. There is nothing I can do nor give that could fully express my gratitude. Please, if - ”
“Now now,” he interrupted her, chuckling softly. “I have been blessed with a gift. It is my duty to share that gift. You need not thank me.” He spoke with assured authority. She looked at him with wide eyes. He nodded gently to her. “Go now. He needs you.”
She looked awestruck for a moment, before nodding vigorously and rushing back inside. You both watched her shut the door behind her with a click. When she was gone, you looked back at him expectantly, waiting for an answer. He stared at the house, still smiling. Perhaps he didn’t hear you. Before you had a chance to repeat yourself, you were interrupted again.
“Excuse me,” you heard a tiny voice behind you. Turning, you both stared at a young man standing before you. He looked at the ground, wringing his hands nervously. His clothes were dirty and tattered. “Please, My Lord. I-it’s my wife…” he choked on his words. You could hear the tears welling in his eyes.
The man in white stepped forward, placing a supportive hand on the young man's shoulder. His expression became serious again. “Show me,” he said simply. With a nod, the young man turned and led him deeper into the village. Plumes of dust trailed their feet as they walked, crunching on the unpaved path.
You, of course, made to follow, but you were stopped by a blinding pain shooting through your skull. You cried out in surprise and alarm, gripping your head while trying to keep from collapsing to the ground. Your efforts were futile though, as you felt your knees buckle, then give out. You came tumbling down, feeling your skull hit the ground with a dull thud. You closed your eyes tightly, hoping the pain would just pass. You were not so lucky though. Just as it became unbearable, you felt as if you were violently shaken. Your vision went black.
You awoke with a jolt, a pool of cold sweat beneath you.
#ardyn izunia#ardyn lucis caelum#ffxv#ardyn#ardyn x you#ardyn izunia x reader#ardyn x reader#episode ardyn#final fantasy 15#final fantasy xv#long fic#also on ao3
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Prologue-Music Box of Recollection; Scene 3
Original Sin Story: Punishment, pages 6-17
To tell the truth, Nyoze did have some inkling of what had happened regarding this “Leviantan Catastrophe”.
He had been, after all, a member of the senate that had served as the backbone of the Magic Kindom.
That “Project” that the senate had secretly been pushing ahead…There could be no doubt that it was heavily involved in what had transpired now.
So then the place I ought to go first is Alicegrad Castle…No, perhaps before that, the city of Lighwatch.
There were twelve capitals at the heart of the Magic Kingdom.
Nyoze was sure he was quite close to the city of Lighwatch that served as one of those capitals.
But the houses that should have been there were nowhere to be seen.
Only a little more rubble than there had been previously.
The horse that he was riding on suddenly came to a stop.
It appeared unwilling to progress through the rubble. When he looked closer, he saw that mixed in with that rubble was an assortment of sharp debris such as iron scraps and pieces of glass.
Reluctantly, Nyoze got down to his feet. Being a well-trained horse from Asmodean, he wouldn’t need to fasten it to anything to keep it from running away from him.
Upon another glance around at his surroundings, he confirmed to himself that he could sense no sign of people.
No. There…are people, I suppose…”
In the rubble to his left.
He could see a pale something that was neither iron nor glass sticking out of a gap.
That was unmistakably…a human limb.
He didn’t have the nerve to pull it out. There wasn’t a chance that the owner of that rotting leg was still alive anyhow.
It wasn’t corpses that Nyoze was searching for. It was living people.
Though he kept his ears open, all he could hear was the faint sound of wind.
The great hustle and bustle that used to fill the city of Lighwatch was now no m--
--No, wait. I can…hear something. Is this…music?
.
Lu li la.
Lu li la.
.
A continuous metallic sound.
It had a systematic noise and rhythm.
.
Lu li la.
Lu li la.
.
It…didn’t sound like it was being performed with musical instruments.
I feel like I’ve heard it somewhere before…
.
Lu li la.
Lu li la.
Lu li la.
.
As he strained his ears further to determine where the sound was coming from, it happened.
“If only…If only…”
The frail voice that he could hear from behind him was enough to startle Nyoze.
When he turned around, he saw a short old woman there.
There were burn scars over the right half of her body.
“Ooh…” As the old woman looked upon Nyoze’s face, she gave out a sound of admiration. “Could it be…Lord Gammon, Lord Gammon is that you!?”
Nyoze apologetically shook his head.
“No, I’m not the senate head. I’m his younger brother, Nyoze.”
“Ah…Please pardon me for the mix-up. But the fact remans that you are a senator from the Loop Octopus clan. Everyone will be so happy to hear that a senator has survived.”
“—Are there any others? Survivors, that is.”
“Yes, yes, there are…But everyone is starving. And there are many at death’s door from their wounds.” The old woman grasped at Nyoze’s legs. “Senator. Please…help us.”
Nyoze nodded his head as hard as he could.
At some point, he had stopped hearing that mysterious sound.
.
According to what the old woman told him, there were dozens of survivors inside the ruins of Lighwatch temple, the place she brought him to.
There were those who were relatively healthy, and there were some that could only lay there in a pitiful state, soon to die.
“Is there anyone who can treat their wounds? What about the Lighwatch shrine maidens who used to live here?”
The old woman shook her head at Nyoze’s question. “The shrine maidens and the priests had all died by the time we arrived here. And not just here. Many have perished, to the point where the entire city has become filled with corpses.”
Apparently the younger survivors were trying to band together and bury as many of those corpses as they could.
Even so, there were still many of the dead in places where they could not be excavated from the rubble.
“The emergency reserves of food and medicine in the temple have almost depleted. At this rate—"
“I get the picture. Please wait here a minute…Do you have anything you can burn?”
The old woman sent a young man to fetch him some kindling. Using this, Nyoze set up a signal fire to send a message to the distant cavalry.
“The aid unit from Asmodean will arrive shortly. They should be able to bring you what you need.”
“Oh, bless you, bless you…”
The old woman brought her hands together in gratitude.
Nyoze once more looked around the ruins of the temple.
And his attention caught on a peculiar gathering of people kneeling towards one of the corners.
There was a burnt shrine before them, and atop it sat a wooden effigy in the shape of a person.
“Is that—"
Its hair was long, but it seemed to be depicting a man.
Several men and women were offering up prayer to it.
The old woman reached out to stop Nyoze as he started to head towards it.
“P-please go easy on them…”
On seeing her flustered expression, Nyoze understood.
“So, that really is—an effigy of Held.”
The forest god, Held—a being that had been declared a false god in the Magic Kingdom, with all worship of him forbidden.
Moreover…Lighwatch temple was a place that had been under suspicion of venerating Held in secret.
For his part, Nyoze had no inclination to stop their prayers, or to censure them for their crime.
The real issue was…why these refugees, who were not themselves Lighwatch shrine maidens, were worshipping a false god.
It was relatively simple to guess at the answer to that.
It could only be…that “something” had occurred in this country that would cause them to stop believing in their proper gods.
“So then the catastrophe—was the doing of our gods.”
The old woman tilted her head curiously at Nyoze’s murmur. “Lord Senator…Did you not see it? That…terrifyingly enormous twin-headed dragon that flew through the air?”
“I…wasn’t here. I wasn’t in the country then. Though it’s not like I saw nothing of it at all. I could see for myself the figure of a dragon, even in Asmodean to the far east.”
“I see…”
Nyoze had known.
That the anger of the gods would one day turn everything to ashes.
That the “queen” had received an oracle detailing as much.
And that though the senate had tried to enact a “project” to avert that…
They had most likely failed.
“Could you tell me…what exactly happened in this country?”
The old woman nodded at his question, and slowly began to tell the tale.
“It was an exceedingly frightening sight…The day they were holding the new queen’s coronation ceremony at the royal castle… At that time, I had been gathering up some fruit that had fallen from a tree in my garden. My grandkids love the jam I make out of crushing that red fruit, you see…Well, anyway, I had hit a stopping point in my work and just happened to glance in the direction of the castle.”
“…”
“There was a light. Yes, a dazzling green light had appeared very distinctly from the castle, and in the span of an instant it seemed to envelope the entire country itself…Before I knew it, everything had completely changed. Houses collapsed, rivers dried up, and travelers going down the road began to melt in place like mud. My body too was burned along one half, but what I was witnessing was so horrifying, I didn’t even notice that for a while.”
“…So the first change was the light…And you’re saying that was fired from the castle.”
“That’s right. And after that…The gods, the dragon god LeviaBehemo, became manifest. …The gods did not come to save us. On the contrary, they destroyed everything that was left with their claws and the fire breathed from their mouths. …Then, they flew off somewhere, leaving us here.”
“The castle—what happened to the queen, and the other senators that would have been there?”
“I don’t know that much. …Though there is little question that that elegant palace has collapsed without a trace. …There’s no one here who’s tried to approach the site where it stood. No one who dares go to the place where such an awful light appeared—"
Then he would have to go himself—That was what Nyoze was forced to conclude.
The other senators, the queen…and his older brother Gammon, there was little chance any of them were still alive.
Even so, he wanted to see for himself.
He needed to determine just what had happened at the castle that day.
Yes…there are several things that don’t feel right to me.
.
Nyoze had known.
That a catastrophe would happen one of these days.
But he was certain that the day it was supposed to occur had not been that day.
.
Lu li la.
Lu li la.
.
…That music again.
It felt as though it was much closer than it had been earlier.
Nyoze turned in the direction he could hear the music from.
--A lone man was sitting on the ground, his expression vacant.
The aged man was holding some sort of black box in hand, tampering with it.
.
Lu li la.
Lu li la.
.
The sound seemed to be emanating from the box the man held.
“Who is he?” Nyoze asked the old woman.
“Huh? Ah, him…I don’t know. He’s one of the people who took shelter here after the catastrophe, like the others."
“I see…”
“…Is he perchance some acquaintance of yours, sir?”
“…No.”
This…should have been his first time seeing him.
But for some reason, Nyoze couldn’t help but feel as though he had known this man from somewhere before.
“Excuse me, do you have a second?” Nyoze spoke up to the man, approaching him.
“…”
But the man only continued to fiddle with his box, ignoring Nyoze.
“Hey, you! Don’t be rude to the senator!” the old woman chided the man.
Even so, he remained wordlessly immersed in his work.
“I’m very sorry about him…This man seems to have lost his mind some…He never engages with anyone else, just keeps making things like he’s doing now.”
“Like that black box?”
“Yeah. You see that large, shabby bag he has beside him? It’s filled up with similar black boxes.”
“Does anyone know what those are?”
“We asked him once, and he replied that they're ‘music boxes’. But they don’t play music. They’re just junk.”
.
Lu li la.
Lu li la.
.
“…Is that so? But I can hear music playing from the box.”
The moment that he heard Nyoze say those words, the old man stopped what he was doing and peered up at him, startled.
“You…can hear it? The sound of this music box.”
“I can. It’s a pretty melody, though a bit melancholy.”
“…’Recollection’.”
“…?”
“That’s the title of this piece. I named it that.” The man thrust his hand into the bag beside him and pulled out a different black box. “This is yours…Nyoze Loop Octopus.”
“--!? Then we…have met somewhere before?”
“It makes no difference. With everything already…But, you must listen to the melody of this music box.”
The man brought out something else, something like a metal windup key, and handed it over to Nyoze.
There was a small hole in the side of the black box. Just big enough for the windup key to fit snugly inside.
Nyoze moved to put the key into the hole, but the man stopped him.
“Not here.”
“…?”
“There is a place more suitable for playing the music box’s tune.”
The man held up his hand and pointed.
When Nyoze wracked his memory for confirmation, he realized that direction was--
“The castle…You’re saying to go to the ruins of Alicegrad?”
But the man shook his head.
“That isn’t it. To be more accurate, you are going to stand above the thing that Alicegrad had been guarding…’Sin’. The place where everything began and ended…The answers you, as well as I, seek, they will be there.”
“What in the world…do you…”
“I cannot go there. I can no longer hear the timbre of the music boxes that I’ve made. So I must search for a different path. In the place that I have reached, I will complete twelve music boxes.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about! Explain it to me properly!”
“Oh just shut up! Get going! I…must make…my music boxes.”
After saying that, the man once more fell into silence.
Though Nyoze attempted to speak with him further, the man made no reply.
<<prev------directory------next>>
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tagged by @xplore-the-unknwn Thanks for the tag!!
(rules: answer 30 questions and tag 20 blogs you are contractually obligated to get to know better)
name: I go by Livia Rosethorn online if I must give a "real name". I go by "Scrabble" at work... there's a joke there, feel free to ask about it. I may make up another name, just for lols... OH! Also Mortalia Westinra.
star sign: Aries
height: 5′6.5″
time: 1:35 pm
birthday: April (Aggressive Incoherent Mumbling)
favorite bands/artists: so many... right now, I like Ashnikko, Rain Paris, and Aronchupa/various artists. MCR is of course a classic, and my "guilty pleasure" band is of course panic! at the disco. I also got a twitter account for Ice Nine Kills, so they are of course pretty high up there too, since we all hate twitter and its associated drama.
last movie: I think I rewatched Rogue One? Maybe?
last show: Star Wars: Rebels.
when did i create this blog: 2012 I believe. (I'm an ancient entity, fear me.)
what i post: Star Wars, horror, funny things, random shitposting...
last thing i googled: a 1973 version of Walking Tall. My grandparents couldn't remember an actor's name and I love being helpful. It's my toxic trait. <3
other blogs: um... I have twitter for my faves ICE NINE KILLS, and for them only. I have Facebook, but I rarely use it.
do i get asks?: no. I got anon hate the last time I made a post about Br*cenat, but that's on me for being a former marvel stan. I would love some asks! Please come bother me! :D
following: "Got a secret, can you keep it..." - The Pierces
average hours of sleep: too much... 9 to 10 hours a night if I can manage. (My depression manifests as lethargy, you see.)
instruments: I'm looking into guitar and drums but ultimately the violin or fiddle is appealing to me for some reason.
what i’m wearing: A R2-D2 shirt and black shorts. I'm actually sticking to my chair. Its uncomfortable.
dream job: Archivist. Librarian. College Professor. Something NOT IN RETAIL, WHICH SUCKS ASS.
dream trip: I'd like to go to Italy? Or Spain? Possibly to Japan.
nationality: Assigned American at Birth. It's terminal.
favorite songs: At the moment, I'm fond of an Uncle Kracker song that was rereleased on iTunes called "Break U Off." Originally on Osmosis Jones Soundtrack, and it is a banger. I also like "Toxic Love" sung by Tim Curry. I want them to rerelease the Ferngully soundtrack, and I'm no longer asking politely.
last book i’ve read: Currently reading Thrawn Ascendancy: Chaos Rising. I also need to finish an Animorphs reread.
top 3 fictional universes i’d like to live in: New Rome (Rick Riordan), Mysterious Benedict Society's World, and possibly Anita Blake's St. Louis... Or maybe Tortall/Winding Circle.
Time for you guys to answer these questions!
I tag... nobody, actually. I don't want to be a bother.
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i like to ask these questions about peoples interests when they need something to talk about...are there any songs that remind you of spamton? any songs that remind you of alien nine? :3 hope you get feeling better soon!!
Hi anonymous thank you so so very much for your question, pondering this alone has helped me reroute my focus, it's very helpful. I appreciate you asking a lot <3 I got very detailed in answering this so I'm putting it under a read more, please enjoy
Surprisingly with as adoring as I am of alien 9, I don't have all too many songs that I directly associate with it? Something about that interest of mine feels very different than all my other interests in which I'm drawn to associate songs with characters or the source material itself. And I'm not sure I could name that difference for you exactly, that's just how it seemed to turn out. I think maybe because alien 9 feels more like a profound open-and-closed art piece rather than something you can delve into just for fun. It has something to say; it's a serious and heavy statement, no more. Not to say I have an issue with folks who *do* decide to delve deeper into it in terms of fandom or song associations, I personally just don't have that pull towards those elements of it. Sometimes I will hear a song though that has a instrumental backing track very similar to the alien 9 ost, and being that it's ost is very striking in terms of how it's arranged, that always sticks out to me. Very sorry I don't have more of a proper answer to give you here!
As for spamton, I have plenty believe me. I was actually just talking to my boyfriend about this the other day, but I tend to associate a lot of 60s and 70s music with him rather than anything else! The playlist I have for him actually doesn't have very many modern songs on it. But before I share any specific songs for this I want to write up a little bit of a reasoning as for why this is.
If we go along with the implications of his origins, we can assume that spamton was born in 1978. He obviously wouldn't have grown up alongside a vast amount of 60s and 70s music right when it was released for this reason, but I think its similar to how a majority of kids grow up listening to music their parents/past generations used to listen to... just kind of a thing you run into and then latch onto bc its such a foundational thing in childhood. That applies to spam too!! I've always imagined music from that time period to be his favorite. It's either easy listening or it's a good dancey tune, both of which are winners in my book. I do believe he'd appreciate the calmness of easy listening 60s/70s actually. I know a lot of people say "oh yeah show this dude hyperpop or some other crazy shit he'd love it" but I truly have to disagree... it feels like that'd overwhelm him if you ask me, he needs something to temper his own erratic nature. Not to mention how it may sound kind of similar to certain phone calls he may or may not have received. Might be pretty unpleasant, to say the least
All this being said: here are a few songs which remind me of him!
Heaven Can Wait by Dean Martin is a really big one for me which is. Slightly embarrassing (๑-﹏-๑) I admittedly do associate a lot of romantic 60s/70s songs with him because well for one I think he's just the type to listen to stuff like that. But also I am love with him. Hope this helps. It's a good song regardless!!
Fairly obvious I feel like but Cars by Gary Numan is also a very big song for him I think. A focus on cars... phone motifs... mentions of "images" in the sense of visions and/or perceptions of someone... generally just an anxious demeanor and sense of wrongness present throughout its entirety... this song's got it all
As for a relatively modern one (2001), the newest song that's come to remind me of him is I Want Wind To Blow by The Microphones. The lyrics are very reminiscent of him to me! Particularly the second verse
Very long-winded answer to your question but I hope this gives you some insight! I'd be happy to provide more songs or explanations if need be. Feeling much better after writing this thank you very very much anon I hope you have a wonderful night
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Part 2 of the drabble/headcanon prompts @thekingofmuses has sent to me:
Kiss
The loud rumbling of Iori's bass could be heard through the door of his bedroom. While his apartment was relatively soundproofed, the deep sound of his instrument could be heard throughout his dwelling. Athena was reluctant when she came close to the door, feeling somewhat hesitant. There was something that she really wanted to ask him, but she didn't want to disturb his practice time.
After a minute or two, she could finally hear Iori finishing up his practice, and winding down for the day. She finally had her chance. Summoning all the courage she could muster, she knocked on the door, albeit with a tiny bit of hesitation.
"Iori?" she asked, hoping that it won't blow up in her face.
"What is it?" he responded, his baritone voice audible through the wooden door.
Athena paused for a second, unsure how to go about the situation.
"Just come in already." he grumbled.
She slowly opened the door, and saw that he was clad in a tank top and sweatpants. Ever since she first set foot into Iori's apartment, Athena became accustomed to seeing him like this whenever she visits his apartment, and it wasn't necessarily a bad thing. In fact, even if he was just wearing the aforementioned articles of clothing, she does admit that he looked stunning in them, especially since his top outlined his impressive physique.
"I...um..." Athena attempted to speak as she awkwardly shuffled her feet, looking away from Iori, trying not to stare at him for too long.
"Just spit it out already." he replied, putting away his bass in its case.
"I...just wanted to try something with you."
Iori got off the bed and walked towards Athena, leaning down to face her.
"What?"
Athena slowly removed her hands from her back, holding a box of strawberry-flavored Pocky. Iori could not believe what he was seeing right now, and was even wondering how and why she got that idea in the first place.
"I thought we could try this," she replied sheepishly. "I saw some couples...um, doing this before - "
"Don't be ridiculous!" he barked, balking at the very suggestion.
Of course she would know very little about sex and romance - then again, the former was given from her first night here, and the latter was something many a pop idol would never engage in, lest it would lead to a massive public scandal.
Athena took a step back upon seeing Iori's reaction. "I'm sorry..." she murmured, "I...just wanted to try this."
"Don't rope me into this nonsense." he replied, turning his back on her as he went back to sit on his bed.
As a wave of disappointment passed through her, Athena felt a smidgeon of guilt about the whole thing. Maybe she shouldn't have pushed it on Iori - she knew that he wasn't the most receptive person in the world, and wouldn't be interested in something like this.
Maybe she was going about this the wrong way. She might need a different approach for what she wanted to do with him.
"Um," she started again.
Iori emitted a hum as he stared at her, wondering what she wanted to ask.
"I'm...sorry," she apologized as she approached him. She slowly made herself comfortable when she sat next to him, making sure that she wasn't too close.
"Why are you apologizing?"
"I didn't meant to make you feel uncomfortable."
"Just forget about it."
"Can you please try this with me?" she asked once more. "Just this once?"
Iori still shook his head, but he turned to face her.
"Please?" she added, with pleading eyes.
The redhead paused to think for a while. After a good bit of mulling - which seemed to last an eternity - he finally gave his answer.
"Fine."
Now Athena has finally gotten her confirmation, and was quite pleased. She slowly removed one of the thin sticks from the box, and placing one of its ends in her mouth. She gestured him to do the same. With an inward shrug, Iori took the other end, and started to make his way to meet her...
...Soon enough, they were pressing against each other's lips. He then deepened this into his usual rougher kiss, pulling her against him. Iori's large hands quickly made their way to her hips, clutching them tightly.
#asks#answered#thekingofmuses#((forgive me for being excessively saccharine))#long post#((had to put it under the cut))#((let me know if it's good!))#((I'm more than happy to change anything!))
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03?
03: Do you regret anything?
Lily: Starting out with the hard ones huh. What do I regret? Not spending more time in art class. Not practicing enough in band. Parents took our damn instrument away since we didn't satisfy them enough. If we'd kept at it, might've been good at all kinds of instruments by now. But there never was any pleasing our fucking parents.
Bird: not running more before the disability overtook us. i really miss that feeling of running in the wind - it was the closest we ever felt to flying under our own power. figuring out a support system to stick it out through college is another one. but i sympathize with the fact that we didn't do that - it was a really really hard time.
Corvin: Boy Scouts. There are several practical skills I sorely miss. Perhaps if we had pursued Eagle rank more diligently. But we lacked the focus. And sufficient motivation.
Emi: I guess... the last job I worked? Me, not the others. It was sortof a dream job... but there was no way we could have ever pleased our boss. She was very controlling, and very strict with how like, hierarchy worked. Know your place and all that. But the work itself was really nice, and could have been a nice career. I miss it. Losing that... I don't know if I'll ever work again. It hurt. Blue's doing our next job if it's in person, and Corvin will do work from home.
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A sudden afternoon thought hit me yesterday and just sticks with me after reading two small comics that gives me a bit of context of things, it's just a silly theory of mine that went on in circles and long descriptions. What if with whatever happened to Raisiya in new Chapter 7 brings in Star Warrior Light (at least from what I can understand by hearing his dialogue on JP gameplays) then prompts the time dragon and the purple cloaked prophet to intervine from making a different outcome, like essentially making an endless time loop with small variety of outcomes of different interactions and probably more? This got to me when I was listening to three different Raisiya's themes. The first goes on at a normal pace with intrumentals, most likely wind instruments yet continues on with different volunes without letting down the tempo. The seocnd goes on a bit slower but the wind instruments is changed to chorus, probably with the purple eye in his design. The third one felt like there's no more restraint left on the melody, going all in with adrenaline and full on rock. It's like as if he's urging for an outcome to happen and there's no more holding back the strongest abilities either side has to be, probably with how Light has a dialogue with him when facing against Raisiya. Then whatever Light wanted to accomplish in Raisiya's stead prompted both the time dragon and the purple cloaked prophet to intervine and prevent the future from changing... at least I think? Yep, I'm still drawing blanks on many things about Oreca lore so it's entirely my guess with many nudges from watching and reading JP contents.
As for my ask on this, are there any other interpertations of the players aka as Battlers/Master/Summoner in Oreca Battle? I like what you came up with and I still hadn't realized that until now, with how there's some fusions are limited as far as I know of. Hope it's okay and sorry for the long ramble there! Also is it okay if I reblog some of your posts?
Sorry the answer took awhile! I rarely touch the lore on the New Chapter series, so I needed time to read up some stuff from the wiki first and opening my twitter's bookmark for the other answer-
I read up on the JP fanwiki that the reason why Light appeared was because of Raisiya (thought it's unclear to me what the reason was-), it probably have something to do with what Raisiya knew about the future?
There was also some mention about wanting to change the future, and that reason might be the reason why the time dragons and the Prophet Sybil shows up as well
An interesting take, tho! Thank you for sharing the bits of lore that you found out!
Oreca Battle OSTs, huh? I rarely touch them as well actually, I kind of afraid I will get too emotional listening to them-
There is this one time I cried listening to Dia's theme song, I'm still unsure why I cried tbh-
And to answer your questions,
I'm not really sure why, but I rarely see mention or interpretation of human battler at the JP community
One of my interpretation was actually inspired by my mutual's tweets, but it looks like I didn't bookmark the very tweet that inspires me-
But here are some tweets from my mutual from twitter, nefer_ty that also inspires me (I hope Nefer-san is okay with me sharing some of their tweets outside of twitter-)
(1) (2) (3)
There is also this one cool Oreca Battle artist who makes some fancomic of their original Oreca Battlers, and they are amazing!
I don't know if it counts as the kind of interpretation you're looking for, but I'm including their Pixiv link as well
(x)
Also, please feel free to reblog my posts!
I'm only keeping my self-insert stuff as un-reblog-able, but the other posts should be okay
In fact, I'll be elated if you reblogged them, so please feel free to do so! ヾ(｡･ω･)ﾉ☆ﾟ
#Oreca related#akjdfhuergh the lore goes to world-threat level on New Chapter 7 huh-#I rarely touch them cuz I was afraid skdjgjdft-#but thank you for sharing!#long post
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