i DOUBT anybody still following this blog is super active but since this blog is mostly just an archive, if you wanna reunite with my jason and etrigan, you can find them on my new multi @goldnslumbr !!
the marriage thread.
@hraunwyf // continued.
this sort of solemnity from etrigan was certainly strange, but it wasn’t necessarily something that one would put past from the royalty from hell ( despite being the unruliest son of belial. ) loki’s words, the way her words so perfectly went in tandem with his, turned etrigan’s lips upward and seemed to relieve some tension weighing him down. this question that he was longing to ask was something he had realized would change the scope of the rest of his long sentence on earth ... and for once, the demon found himself a tad anxious. after a moment, the sonnet began.
“since the day we first joined hands, I perceived thee to be mine thine eyes enchanting, uplifting a rotten heart and soul -- our forces together, our stars and planets aligned to coax thy lips into a smile is the demon’s only goal.”
and he was smiling, revealing pointed teeth, raising a hand to tenderly tuck a raven curl behind her ear with his large, brutish claw. an unnaturally kind and soft gesture for the gruesome demon.
“many years have passed lifeless, hopeless in vain wrists and ankles in chains, freedom far from his sight; the Earth inflicted on him insurmountable pain but thy hand and thy speech hath restored his might. with thy beauty and thy guile, thy wit and thy power I long for our sides to never again be parted more. of this eternity I have – every day, every minute, every passing hour I believe thou’rt my purpose, the one I’m here for. “
and finally he lowered himself down on one knee, hands still clasped in hers, red eyes looking up at her with the same sort of light, excitable red eyes he had borne ever since the day that they met. he brought out a small ring of sleek silver, of medieval looking origins. now that the poem was coming to a close, he seemed more confident. more hopeful. it was not often he had hope.
“beloved Loki, beloved queen, this of you I can only pray I get down on my knee and ask if in your heart I may always stay.”
vesselbound-blog reblogged
“Oh that’s right. You are one of them non flying demons. Sorry for your loss, EG.”
arms cross over his chest as he looks up at boston in supreme unhappiness, red gaze trained disdainfully on his red form. “ brand, i swear, when thou getst down here -- for thy words, i’ll give thee something to fear ! “ he snarls. “ you irritate me, you and your wandering soul -- thou’rt an anomaly in the scheme of hell’s goal. “
after a year, i come back to just see how things are and your rhymes are still perfect, never chaaange xoxo
NSDJHNSONRRJHNKJRHNKSDFKNKDHNFKGNDFGJKH!!!!!!!!!!!!!
@brandedboston
“ boston, come down here! i find this quite unfair. -- thou knowest that etrigan cannot, as you do, fly in the air! “ etrigan looks up at the ghost in the same way that a cat would look up at a bird fluttering up in a tree.
“ FOR ONCE, ‘TIS NOT THE DEMON that has done this wrong! but if thou dost want help finding out who did, he will come along. “
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Suddenly, he can feel everything in perfect detail. The touch to his face, warm and tingling, the other body against him, gravity pushing them together, he feels all of it. Jim closes his eyes, leaning into the feeling, and when they open again they are a perfect, human blue. Human, for a moment; and within that moment, he realizes there was nothing he could deny him. He would end the world on his command, spare the devil himself if he so desired. He couldn’t do a thing against him, even if he tried. All the lost love, the love that wasn’t real, the love that went away, none of it matters. They led up to this. That’s all that matters.
His delayed response is not hesitation, but rather he was struck dumb by the other man’s words. Yet, when he opens his mouth, he knows exactly what he’s going to say. He puts a hand to Jason’s face, making sure he’s looking at him when he speaks.
“You have me, Jason. Until you don’t want me, you have me.”
YOU’LL HAVE TO FORGIVE HIM, jim. you’ll have to forgive the raw look in his brown eyes (because who has ever loved him? all of him and the things he carried? who had ever looked at him like that? who had ever been there?), the way his expression seems to slacken when he looks into your human eyes. and jason would quite literally want to kick himself for this later, but he found himself getting a little teary. he holds his gaze solidly, yes; rests a hand against the one cupping his cheek, yes. but jim’s words overwhelm him when he realizes the reality, the truth, the perfection of their love. the way that they were really in this and things would never be different.
tears were not brimming his brown eyes because he was sad. the smile that began to curve his lips upward as he turned his hand in order to kiss jim’s palm would deny that, a beautiful, perfect tear sliding down his pale cheek. he was crying because in all of his centuries, this was the best thing he’d ever been blessed with. perhaps the only thing. it wasn’t often that he was nearly speechless due to gratitude, but now was one of those times. for a moment, all the world was was just jason blood and james corrigan, intertwined together in their home. just them and their hearts beating in tandem.
“i’ll always want you, darling. be assured of that.” he looks up at him, moving his hand to rub away his tears. “ -- sorry. for the waterworks. you’re just. beautiful. you’re the most wonderful thing that’s ever happened to me.”
vesselbound-blog reblogged
So. The demon wanted an explanation, did he? Perhaps, then, she needed to explain it to him in a language he would understand.
The witch took a deep breath and began,
“From sprawling ages in the past to acts of future days, Thine terrors have been sung. Of blood and sin the demon thrives Wherever carnage colors the skies and corruption brays; No mage nor knight could hold thy strength, with war or spells or spies. Should pride arise now, in times of plenty and wealth galore? Has mankind birthed a remedy against a demon’s blight When here, in Gotham’s muddy shores, a clown revels in gore? How then shall man live, forgetful of Hell, alone in night? Yet man I am not. My soul wanders above the rusty fog; My eyes hold no cloud of flattering glamour or lost doubt. Should your violence arise, a ghastly ghoulish demagogue, This witch shall act with spells so dire, they’d cast demons out. Shall you complain? Is it risky? Am I a bitch? Perhaps. Yet all the more shame to be beaten by a witch.”
OKAY. IT’S IMPORTANT TO NOTE SOMETHING. in hell, speaking in rhymes was mainly something that the upper - class did to show superiority and whatnot. etrigan had been doing it since he was a young kid because he was just really, really good at it. to him, NOT speaking in rhyme was a show of weakness on his part (therefore making pretty much any modern english speak a sign of weakness in his eyes). to etrigan, the poets of earth were semi-noble humans who he could appreciate sometimes! so, it’s far to say the utter SHOCK on his face was due to the fat that the witch in front of him was literally putting herself on a demonic prince’s level. forgive him for being shocked speechless at her sonnet.
after a LONG MOMENT of just looking at her, etrigan finally CLEARED HIS THROAT, looking almost EMBARRASSED (was it embarrassment for her or for himself? who could say!), hands brushing his hips. the shock faded, with IRRITATION to replace it. nobody played etrigan at his own game!
“ -- what is thy intention in speaking in the manner of my kind? thy lips are unfit to say such words, witchy miscreant that thou art. tales of my terror are right, aye, my acts unseen to only the blind -- my humanly counterpart and i on this realm shall play our part. man or woman, witch or human, no mortal escapes from hellish fate, and with that said, thou hast nerve to claim to be above my might. who is’t that thou art to try and set the demon straight? to speak the demon’s words, to torment him with thy sight? who hired thee to act as a demon’s loathsome babysitter? i have seen horrors worse than thee, have been reduced to muscle and bone! ‘tis why thy watchful gaze and flowery words make the demon quite bitter -- thou art all talk, without any power being shown. if it is a fight thou want’st, ‘tis a fight thou wilt get. but know that the demon shrinks not before thy empty threats.”
vesselbound-blog reblogged
Emperor’s New Clothes | Panic! At The Disco
vesselbound-blog reblogged
* hurt prompts
- ‘ are you bleeding? ’
- ‘ take it easy. you hit your head. ’
- ‘ where does it hurt? ’
- ‘ sit still and let me take a look! ’
- ‘ how did you get that black eye? ’
- ‘ you should see the other guy. ’
- ‘ did i say you could get out of bed? ’
- ‘ that’s going to leave a bruise. ’
- ‘ i’ll get some ice. ’
- ‘ that’s what you get for picking fights. ’
- ‘ are you trying to give me a heart attack? ’
- ‘ what’s wrong with you? ’
- ‘ you can barely stand. ’
- ‘ did you throw the first punch? ’
- ‘ that’s a nasty bump. ’
- ‘ get in the car. you’re going to the hospital. ’
- ‘ at least bandage it. ’
- ‘ no, you’ll get an infection. ’
- ‘ wet floor signs are there for a reason, you know. ’
- ‘ you’re lucky. that icicle could’ve killed you. ’
- ‘ where’s your gratitude? i rescued you! ’
- ‘ i’m calling the nurse. ’
- ‘ was that stupid dare worth it? ’
- ‘ what happened to you? ’
- ‘ sit down. i’ll make some hot chocolate and fix you right up. ’
- ‘ are those bandages? ’
- ‘ you need stitches. ’
- ‘ look out for that tree branch. ’
- ‘ i’ve got you. just stay awake. can you do that for me? ’
- ‘ lean on me. ’
- ‘ you got two choices: let me carry you, or die out here. take your pick. ’
- ‘ shit, you’re burning up. ’
- ‘ you’re not dying. it’s only a sprained ankle. ’
- ‘ lie down. ’
- ‘ i’m sorry. i know it hurts. here, hold my hand. ’
- ‘ you’re in no condition to be walking around. ’
- ‘ wake up! wake up! ’
- ‘ i don’t feel sorry for you. ’
- ‘ look at your face! ’
vesselbound-blog reblogged
“IF YOU WANT ETRIGAN, you will have to wait until next month. thank you and goodbye.”
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HE WHIPS AROUND pretty dramatically to hear his name called, LOOKING at the other with a slightly alarmed / INTERESTED expression. waiting expectantly for an explanation!
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NO, REALLY, DON’T MIND HIM, john. the big scaly monster is just hanging upside-down from the ceiling like a bat. he outstretched a long arm in order to pick up the bottle of beer sitting besides john, all of its contents draining out onto the floor as etrigan held it upside down so that he could read the label. a very considerate demon, this one was. “john, ’tis the cheap stuff thou art drinking! i pity thee -- art thou simply thinking?”
novasparked said: YES. U CAN. LET ME LOVE YOUR MUSTARD MAN
WAS THAT RHYME INTENTIONAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
LIKE THIS POST FOR A KISS FROM ETRIGAN
She pointedly stared from her position in the room, arms crossed. Waiting. Someone needed to be there to make sure everything was fine with this mustard yellow Zora on the loose.
“WHY DOST THOU watch the demon like a hawk? he does not turn to THEE and gawk. paint my portrait if thou must; ‘twould be better than thy memory, i trust!” wow, an early - modern english version of take a picture, it’ll last longer! the demon matches her position, crossing his arms and leaning back, SCOWL evident on his twisted expression, as if waiting for her to fire back.
"Does it hurt? When you swap out?"
AS HE BRINGS THE drink up to his lips, for a moment, jason’s eyes seem to lose focus when jim’s words hit his ears. did it hurt? maybe he couldn’t really tell anymore, since becoming engulfed in flame and suddenly not physically existing anymore had been a thing he’d done monthly (sometimes weekly) for all of the centuries that he’d been alive. he adjusted himself in the comfortable seat, set the glass of wine down, rested his chin in the palm of his hand while humming contemplatively, digging in the vast expanse of memories he carried in an attempt to really remember the sensation. it happened so often, it felt as natural as breathing or sneezing or something like that. it was tough to put words to something that you’d just accepted as normal so long ago.
“ … yes, i suppose it does hurt? i mean, i remember it really hurting the first time we did it, but i think one can mainly chalk that up to surprise, since, you know … my body was literally on fire.” jason answers, his tone seeming more academic than casual, as if he was talking about one of his paranormal phenomena as opposed to an extremely personal matter. “but now, it’s hard to think of it as painful. it happens so often, it’s more of a normal thing that i’ve accepted. i’d say the more painful thing is when he swaps out with me as opposed to vice versa, because i always feel awfully dizzy, and he seems to make a point to dump me in a place i very much do not want to be. like in a pile of trash or rocks.” voice dripping with sarcasm, he murmured into the rim of his glass: “he’s quite considerate that way.”
