your characters are actually so beautiful even though in general your art style is literally gorgeous so keep up the amazing work, cause it always has me speechless!! (thank you for blessing my eyes with these posts 🫶🏽)
Disclaimer: I do not own the wonderful amazing OC that wonderful woman is created by the lovely @damn-i-exist who graciously let me write obsessively about her MC. Please give them much love ❤️❤️❤️❤️
Tags: Death, Man's Ego, obsessive love, sexual content and innuendo's
Summary: These are all drabbles written from various au's for MC and the love interests from Love and Deepspace. Current AU is Angel Au and Hades (video game) AU
Pairing: MC/ Caleb Xia
ART: art and image credited to @damn-i-exist who i asked permission to use. Check out her blog!
Greek/Hades AU
He finds her in a den of lust and greed, surrounded by clouds of sweet smoke. Where purity once covered her is now replaced by glittering gems over her bare skin. In the heavens, he was never aware of her nudity, until now. Now his attention was fighting to stay on her face, instead of discovering the curves of her body, the soft swells of her soft breasts and the dip between her thighs only hidden by the thin silk that covered her.
The women had painted her. His beloved eyes were lined with dark khol, her lips painted with rouge and the powder of crushed roses over the apples of her cheeks.
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He found her. He knew he found her, the traces of her laughter sprinkled through that low husky laugh he heard as she gossiped with the painted women lounging around her. As the angel came closer, bodies of sinful men parted for him as if they didn't want to be touched by his holy figure-- how could tainted men touch a righteous angel of divinity. As he was close enough to see the faint glimmer of grace under her gems, did she sense him.
Her head turned quickly, as she sat up-- her drink clattering against the gold plates as she looked behind him. Poison. Cool golden eyes, with pride smoldering underneath, bright beneath kohl paint . Her lips part, a slip of red wine runs down the corner of her lip --- it reminded him of blood. "Caleb”
For a moment, Caleb felt his vision spot. His wings, hidden under his human disguise, flicker threatening to break the spell, Caleb held his head. The images of her, before she fell of her bright golden eyes, her glowing figure in the thick overgrown gardens that beguiled him, being replaced by the woman before him feathered by the vices around them. Her hair was darkened by the earth, her eyes painted with green pigments, her lashes coiled, the apple of her cheeks red with crushed roses. Caleb felt himself doubted, even when his soul reached for hers. "Caleb," she said again, her eyes brightening like before, rising like a blooming lily with her silken skirts flowering under her. "Caleb!"
"It's you.”
She had pulled him down, to sit on the plush thick mats made of expensive furs with tittering women around them. Around them a young servant male, with delicate bones and tanned by the sun, pours into her cup sweet honey wine. Taking it, she held the golden goblet to hip lips urging him to drink. "It's good for you!" She tells him as she laid on him, and he became very aware of her warm body. Her figure, her curves and soft breasts. He knew of them, his lingering eyes strayed to them, but now she was dressed with silks that had revealed more flesh that he was allowed to see before. "Just a taste," she murmurs,"It's sweet like the pomegranates we used to eat in the gardens, even better than those." "No," Caleb found his voice as he pulled the cup away from her, his hand wrapping around her wrist. For a moment, he wished he could wrap his wings around her, concealing her from all this depravity.
"Who taught you this?" He asked her, thick brows knot with disdain," You can't participate in this, you know that." She pulls away from Caleb's grasp, and it hurt him. He watched her lips, that once felt warm like sunlight, pull into this souring grin. She tossed her head back and laughed, a rippling chorus of the women joining her. "Why can't I?" She challenges him, she coils around him,"It's sweet, it's rich, do we deny ourselves it? It's not bad, let me teach you like I was taught" She takes a gulp of wine and springs forward, a dark asp does she bite him. Her teeth sinks into his bottom lip, the pain sparks a vein down his body forcing him to cry. She muffles it, her lips against his, a union only special to humans, and down a rush of sweet honey slip down his throat
He swallowed it, his body demanded it. He could feel its heat sliding down his throat, burning him and pooling in his stomach. Gasping, Caleb wanted to flee, he wanted to spit out the wine, but she called him again. His name in those soft tones and giggles as she pulls him back, her cool painted nails drag along his jaw. "See?" She whispers, smiling widely, her eyes glittering," Just like I said, it tastes good.”
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HADES AU
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“There is no greater tragedy than to fall in love.”
Like all tales, it began with a king.
He likens himself to Zeus. It was his right, descendant of his many many offspring, who had inherited the throne of the Grecians on this land that flourished with bountiful olive trees tributes of Athena, rivers of vines of Dionysus own favorite grapes pressed into rich wines and even Zeus must have favored Timon for he made many sacrifices in honor of his great great grandfather. It is so by divine right of his blood, by his own practices, Timon had laid claim to a beautiful witch that hid herself from all the other dwellers of land. Beyond the shores of his land, there sat a lonely island that held a witch. Where beasts roamed it's tall grass, leopards stalked its trees, and it was filled with life and precious herbs. If one was desperate for a cure, they must make their way to her island, and hopefully survive the encounters of its living inhabitants. Stories of her beauty filled his dreams, hair dark as the reddest wines, her golden eyes rich as the ichor of Apollo's own sun, and skin so pale that Artemis had mistaken her for the moon itself.
Timon had sent messengers to bring her to his palace, he promised her the usual common things, gold, jewelry, power and of course above all himself. His tokens of marriage were returned scorched with messengers shaking in fear of the Earth Bound Caleb, who threw them from the island with his gods given power.
“Sire! You mustn't seek her again, her protector would kill you if you dared try again.” One of them had begged,” There are other princesses who would be glad to sire your children!” The brave and crew who ventured to the island agreed in a weary chorus, unable to rise from their beds.
“Off to the dungeon's with you,” Timon dismissed them,”Useless!”
Like all kings, like all gods, Timon desired what he cannot touch.
She did not come as easily as the others. Timon knew of that, his own men had returned thinned out by her own hand and by her lover who sent many returned with threats. But Timon knew little of fear and was as brave as the wild boars that roamed the land. Demigods, or blessed warriors must answer to their gods at some point and that too included her lover; once he was called away; Timon struck.
Hailing down on her, chasing her until they brought her back to his castle, where he proclaimed he was to wed her. It would take time, but she will learn to love him and his other glittering desires, Timon was assured of that. He was so sure he found his Hera, that unfounded belief was soon shaken by a swift claw.
“Augggh!” Timon retched. His own screams frightened him, he never knew he could make such a noise until now.
Through the hollow rich halls, from the gilded room, the emperor's screams echo as he clutches his eye. His dark eye hangs loosely between the spaces of his thick jeweled fingers, where thick blood dribbles to the ground, gazes around lost. Mangled! She crippled him! Timon's handsome face slashed by her ornamented nails, dipped with poison of the most venomous snake in the land. Pitifully , she had lost one nail to his eye, the precious thing lodging in his pupil.
“You whore!” He bellows, his face red,” You ungrateful witch! Where are you!”
Watching him, his captive laughs at him, the serpentine witch mocks his pain as she lays dying on the mosaic tiles. "I told you," she rasps her smile stained red," I curse you! I curse you until the end of Tartarus, you will never see the morning's dawn." With every word, her hatred bled into every breath she spat at him, if she was to die, then she would make sure he would never get to live another sunrise. “I curse your blood! I curse your name! I curse your legacy that you will never be remembered for all eternity!”
"Damn you! Damn you!" Timon bellows at her, his face red as his eye bleeds.
She passed between his cries for his servants, her spirit slipping away carried by nymphs of the underworld, her only regret was she hadn't been the one to land the killing blow. "Wretched thing!" Timon stomps at her corpse blindly, spitting," You shouldn't have been obedient! I was in my right! “
Here, our story had begun with a king who stole away the love of a hero, and like many tales before him it will end with the death of a tyrant. Upon every wrathful stomp he laid upon his dead Hera, Timon became deaf to his surroundings. He heard no cry that came from his servants, no shouts of mercy from his guards, and he did not become aware of the silence that penetrated the air from his once lively palace. The world held its breath as death flew up his grand staircase, and threw open his doors. It’s when his foot became stuck in the mouth of the wretched beast, was Timon finally aware of the ragged breathing of death.
Turning his only eye behind him, did Timon finally understand what all common men must find.
A name was whispered, it was not his. Timon would later regal his tale with how brave he was to stand up to injustice to any poor soul who sat next to him on Charon’s boat. However, that was not the case. Timon died, screaming for mercy as Caleb brought down his sword, hacking away at every limb he had, one by one until he was but a stump of a man twitching on his once grand floor. The demigod raised his sword once more, from his one good eye the last thing Timon saw was the name engraved on this monster’s sword.
She killed him again.
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.
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Through the thick fog, Melinoe could spot the over hanging branches of pink tamarisk floating along the cool salted sea winds. From behind the pink florals, grew strong pines with strong bodies twisted up lording over the shores with sharp spears grown from their thick limbs. Her boat digs into the soft sands of the beach, uphill where the scent of sweet grass and full bloomed cups of narcissus swayed, hidden far behind the overgrown gardens of oleanders and asphodels, was the lair of the witch. Rather, home of the late witch who died decades beforehand to a legacy of Zeus. However it was not the witch Melinoe had come to find, but rather it was the soul who haunted the island, a demigod who had refused to leave for the gods. The serene island was silent of nymphs, not one soul stirs aside from his and Melinoe.
Beneath her burning feet, the dried grass gives way to a dirt pathway. Scattered along its old trail were scattered remains of armor, once polished and shiny, laid rusted along the path. Melinoe noted with a keen gaze, several were damaged beyond repair, bronze shells cracked like simple egg shells, shafts of lances lodged between dull helm some found homes in the bark of nearby trees
Stepping over the fallen skeleton of a mortal, Melinoe felt it. It would be foolish not to notice it. The island had become silent. The birds have fallen silent, scattering away to the nearby islands, the prey hid beneath the dirt, and the whole family of boars she had spotted did not make a single snort. The only sign of life was the spotted skin of a leopard, the elusive beast disappeared from sight. The princess heard no wind, the only sound she could hear was her own breathing. Before Melinoe could turn, a sharp blade peeked at the skin of her neck.
“Wait!” It was all the princess could say as the blade swung down. It would take another run, until she made it back on that island, no less wary than before.
The tale of the Witch and the Earth Bound Hero Caleb, a demigod of unknown legacy blessed by the god Ares and Aphrodite, was nothing short of a tragic Grecian tale. By the low smoldering hearth, Caleb regaled Melinoe of this tragic tale, his low voice haunting the glimmering walls, echoing into the darkness of the empty home. His staff pokes the ever warm embers of the last pyre that burned there. The light of the dim fire illuminated the smooth stone walls, where the painted mural of a pale statuesque woman stood, her dress of emerald cloth with a belt of large azuli stones hanging from a gold twined belt. Her dark hair fans around her, in her hand she held a bright torch, in the other a coiled serpent.
Melinoë however was drawn to the matching green clothes that shielded the Witch of the Isles eyes, kept in place by a circlet, over her forehead sat a large stone of amethyst with one bright glittering pupil.
“She's beautiful,” Melinoë sighs, her hand pressed against the cold stone,” This must have been her home.”
“Our home,” Caleb said,” It was a reward for a task I was sent out by Aphrodite. I wanted my sister to be safe away from everyone, where no one could harm her. So I took her here, made the land to be filled with what her heart desires.”
“A noble cause,” Melinoë said warmly,” You loved her dearly.”
Her words however had an effect on the deceased man. The shade's eyes hood, hidden beneath those thick lashes. The moonlight touched his bare feet, its rays slipping through his body.
His eyes drawn tight as he grieves," Never have I regret anything more, than leaving her.”
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"Not a god," his sword is drawn, its edge sliding across the grass, parting the wet earth; distracted Caleb spoke, resentment brooding beneath his mortal flesh," Not a paragon of heroics, just a man who loved a woman. That's what scares gods.”
Love can blind, love can be foolish, but the ever so diligent warrior is reminded of his cause at this moment. The whispers of smoke from the ever burning sticks of incense swept over them, carried by the scent of sun warmed hay mixed with the sweet perfume of the island's flowers. A pleasant scent to the princess of the Underworld, but to Caleb it was a reminder. Something tragic twists between Caleb's eyes, the corner of his lips pressed together as if to silence the whimper bobbing in his throat. Not from sorrow, but from a festering agony born from self hatred and guilt that cannot be hidden. It would force a man to the worst places.
Melinoë felt his pain as if it was her own. Like her, he lost his only family to the hand of another so viciously, their tale ended with death from all sides. In death, Caleb didn't follow the natural cycle of life, nor would he answer the gods demands, he stayed fixated on this island and here he will stay. ‘Unless..’
“Come with me,” She said suddenly, determination flared in her voice,” I promise you, as my honor as the daughter of House of Hades, you will be reunited with your sister.” If not I who could return to mine, then at least this one could.
Compassion she held for a fellow kin. Caleb spares her a glance. “You mean that?” He rises from his spot, his broad body towering over Melinoe. His voice, once vulnerable, had cooled,” The last time a god promised me a favor, it ruined everything. What says you won’t do the same?”
“I won’t,” Melinoe said undeterred by his hostility,” I swear to you, aid us in our fight against Cronos and you will be reunited with your sister.”
She shouldn’t be making promises she may not be able to keep, but with the war, they needed someone like the fabled Earth Bound Caleb on their side. If Hercules had a rival, it would have been him who stood as an equal. Silence settled between them, Caleb made no noise, his eyes dark as he thought over her proposal. By the moonlight, Melinoe felt relief when he gave a sharp nod.
“Understood, I’ll follow for now, but be warned,” his voice frosts over,” the second you betray me, it will not end well for you.”
She did not doubt him.
“Deal, welcome to the Crossroads, Caleb.”
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"Oh," Melinoe sighs, she watched as the witch slipped into the bath, her gaze fixated on her dainty feet. The warm waters of the bath drawing out her words she's been holding in since she first set her gaze upon her. From that mural of her back on that island, to finding this shade hidden away down in the depths of the underworld, Melinoë was curious of the precious sister of the Earth Bound Hero was so obsessed with. "Your feet, they really are as precious as he says."
"Who said that?" The witch looks over her shoulder with a raised brow. "I don't recall ever showing my feet so casually to.....no. Of course, he would." At the corner of her lips, the edge of a smile lifts, softening the harshness from her lovely face. It truly is a beautiful sight, for a moment she is not just a fellow sister in magic, but a woman who is deeply loved by a man who holds her high above his own well being. Perched on a smooth stone, she rests her head back against the bed of flowers that grew near the bath. “He must have told you all sorts of things about me,” The shade laughs, a smoldering chuckle that was just as attractive as the rest of her,” If it's anything embarrassing, don't believe him, if it's anything good then you can.”
Melinoë giggles,”No! Well…maybe something he said perked my interest, but it's been nothing but praises from him.”
“That fool he is,” she sighs, but there was no heat in her words, only fondness in her words,” He’s been waiting for me.”
“Soon now, you'll be reunited again,” Melinoë promised,” I know it's all he ever wanted. It was the only way to even convince him to leave your home.”
May I ask do you have any tutorials or a playlist that you use to study on how to do your line art? If you are not comfy with telling then its totally okay 🩷🫶
I mostly learnt by watching russian-language videos and speedpainting by other artists, but I think these videos are pretty good!
areudirty
jbbartram-illu
kianamaiart
snowghoul
yousharknotpass
blakekathryn