#doomedsouls

[ethereeality]

I imagine even dragons get lonely. ( pt 7 dany & hot pants )

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON SENTENCE STARTERS./ @doomedsouls

it  was  only  natural  for  a  child’s  thoughts  to drift  into  that  of  a  fantasy.  of  dragons,  of unicorns,  even  of  a  gnome ,  if  she  saw  fit;  though,  you  wouldn’t  catch  her  admitting  to  their  nonexistence. 

 but  here  they  were,  with  a  glimmer  of  the  unknown  that  came  to  life  in  the  form  of  her  father,  half-monster. 

❝   when  I  was  young, ❞   hot  pants’  voice  hangs  in  the  back  of  her  throat,  staring  up into  the  endless  sea  of  stars  that consumed  the  night  sky. she  was  no storyteller,  so  she  recalled  it  just  as  she remembered  it.  ❝   my  mother would  tell  me  that  the  stars  were  a remainder  of  the  hot  breath  of  a  dragon.  That  they  were  loyal  protectors,  upholding themselves  through  their  nighttime contribution. ❞

Her  vision  turns  to  the  side,  noticing  the lump  that  rested  next  to  her. ❝   he’s  the closest  to  kin.  and  i  don’t  take  him  as lonely  if  he’s  with  you,  dante. ❞ 

[rejectshumanity]

"what made you this way?" + (pt 1 au shenanigans with a certain french woman that you soooo love to torment at university and who has 0 patience for your bullshit, including now, as she definitely has her arms crossed and looks unimpressed)

drunken confessions | ACCEPTING

dio is beginning to accept that maybe, just maybe, he should attempt to reign in his drinking habit, especially on weeknights. or at least those nights prior to his 8 o'clock lecture with her, if for no other reason than to get the nagging shrew off his back — bitching him out like she's his wife, as though he would ever afford her that privilege! where does she get off?

❝ — a few drinks with the lads post game, ❞   he slurs,   ❝ god forbid. ah, but i suppose a proper, educated young woman like yourself would never stoop so low as to enjoy a night out, hm? it wouldn't do for your image. ❞   the irony appears to be lost on him.   ❝ don't worry your pretty head about me, darling. i'll ace this exam regardless, and outperform you while i'm at it! ❞

[rejectshumanity]

normally, she kneels with such grace in a swift, fluid motion. but she is currently preoccupied holding the hand of their toddler daughter. the precocious girl gazes up at her mother with absolute adoration, watching her movements carefully before wanting to mimic them herself. enya guides her carefully to kneel, though she knows this is unnecessary for her; dante is perhaps the only one in existence who can disregard the courtesy — which in this case she does when she grows too excited and impatient — and instead run right to her father, giddy for embrace. enya tactfully remains in place, dutiful as ever, barely hiding the amusement on her smile. “my lord,” which is spoken with the same adoration as if she’d said my love. “your imminent return came to me in a dream. we’re both overjoyed to see it come true.”

dante  demands  his  attention  first,  and  DIO  indulges  her,  as  is  his  custom.  he  sweeps  her  up in  his  arms and into the shadows,  with  a  rare  affection  reserved  only  for  her  and  entirely  unlike  his  usual  demeanor,  despite  the  ease  at  which  his  precious  daughter  procures  it.

❝ my  princess,  ❞     he  says,  bestowing  a  tender  kiss  upon  her  grinning  cheek,     ❝  i’ve  missed  you  most  of  all.  ❞     and,  at  last  acknowledging  the  still-kneeling  enya  with  a  mischievous  glance,  he  quips,     ❝  i  trust  you’ve  kept  your  mother  in  line,  as  we  agreed.  ❞

[stellamortua]

@doomedsouls

"Oh, you poor thing." Jonathan crouches before the miserable looking toddler before him, "Are you alright, little one?"

[rejectshumanity]

don't let them feed me to the monster! ( little rikiel; his mean siblings locked him in the dungeons room for an alleged 'prank', the poor thing )

nosferatu starters | ACCEPTING

of  the  great  many  monsters  who  stalk  the  mansion’s  halls,  rikiel  should  fear  none  but  the  black-tipped  claws  that  grip  his  wrist  like  a  vice,  pulling  him  out  from  the  pitch  dark  caverns  into  the  comparatively  lighter  shadows  of  the  dungeon’s  entrance.

❝  stop  crying,  ❞     his  father  commands,  fixing  rikiel  with  a  glare  so  withering  he  expects  him  to  burst  into  a  fresh  bout  of  tears.  fortunately  for  them  both,  he  must  know  better  by  now,  for  he  reduces  his  frightened  wails  to  a  pathetic  whimper.  at  last,  he  thinks,  relieved  as  his  burgeoning  headache  begins  to  subside.  considering  the  sheer  volume  of  rikiel’s  panicked  sobs,  he  is  surprised  —  and  irritated  —  that  they failed to summon  the boy’s  useless  mother.

❝  who  did  this  to  you?  ❞     DIO’s  tone  is  softer  this  time,  despite  everything.  he  kneels  before  his  son’s  glistening  eyes,  gently  wiping  away  the  tears.

[rejectshumanity]

@doomedsouls | continued from [ x ]

his  little  bird  is  fortunate  that  she  found  him  in  good  spirits  tonight  —  that  her  suspicious  mind  and  trepidatious  questions,  carefully  crafted  so  as  not  to  offend,  rouse  his  amusement  rather  than  his  anger.  oh,  sherry  has  enjoyed  his  kindness  in  spades:  time  and  time  again,  he  has  spared  her  life  for  what  should  be  fatal  transgressions.  she  has  borne  the  brunt  of  his  many  cruelties,  safe  in  the  privilege  of  his  enduring  mercy.  she  makes  herself  into a  martyr,  offering  herself  up  as  his  willing  prisoner;  yet  still,  after  so  many  years,  she  never  lets  him  forget  her  begrudging  sacrifice.  she  has  ruined  their  son,  coddling  his  weaknesses,  encouraging  his  sniveling,  spineless  nature.  she  makes  no  secret  of  her  eternal  loathing.  she  tests  his  patience  at  every  turn.

❝  i  offer  to  grant  one  of  your  deepest  desires,  yet  you  accuse  me  of  unkindness.  ❞     the  fires  of  DIO’s  eyes  glint  with  mirth,  and  a  wry,  patronizing  sneer  pulls  at  his  lips.  perhaps  i’ve  grown  sick  of  you,  he  is  tempted  to  say,  just  to  gauge  the  extent  of  her  incredulity.  perhaps  absence  shall  make  our  hearts  grow  fonder.

❝  really,  ma  cherie,  why  do  i  bother?  ❞     he  sighs,  stepping  away into  the  surrounding  darkness,  making  as  if  to  leave.     ❝  if  you  think  yourself  unworthy  of  my  trust  after  all  this  time,  what  kind  of  a  fool  would  i  be  to  convince  you  otherwise?  ❞

[godborn]

we are both part of the same great game, dear brother, we just find ourselves on opposite sides of the board. (dante)

            SOURCE :   prompted   /   STATUS :   accepting .

dante’s presence in his study mirrors that of a   HAUNTING SPECTRE   at times   ━━━━   inspiring feelings of   GREAT CONDOLENCE   for the ghost that does not understand that she is trapped between two worlds .   ’TIS NOT PITY HE FEELS FOR HIS DEAR SISTER ,   giorno holds too much respect for dante to regard her with such benevolent condescension ,   but it is   UNREQUITED COMPASSION   in that dante would likely misconstrue his view of her as that of apollo gazing softly upon his subjects instead of   EYE - TO - EYE   with the iron - willed artemis .

    he remains mute for quite a stretch of time ,   the only sound emitting from his   DECEPTIVELY DAINTY FRAME   the soft scrawl of his ink pen threading elegant script into his diary .  

    OCTOBER 6 ,   20XX :   I THOUGHT OF YOU AS THE LAST OF SUMMER’S GOLDEN LUSTER FADED BEHIND AUTUMN’S DREARY GRAY .

    giorno understands dante’s attachment to her mother .   NOT EXPERIENTIALLY ;   he hasn’t thought of his own mother since he’d left her in the dust of a past he no longer acknowledges ,   &   it isn’t likely that she has spared much of a thought toward   him ,   either   ━━━━   but the principle is nonetheless familiar .   the closest thing he’d had to a mother had been   A MAN HE KNEW FOR LESS THAN A WEEK ,   &   years after watching him ascend to a realm he may never be able to touch ,   the mourning only grows   HEAVIER   &   HEAVIER   like the cement block that sinks a lifeless husk to its watery resting place .   the loss of that bond remains the greatest pain giorno has ever endured .   HE WOULD NEVER WISH THAT ON DANTE ,   even if it was for the greater good   (   &   it would be   ) .   thus ,   her mother still breathes .

    he’s decided that she will have to save herself .  it isn’t that he won’t be there for her ,   for he   ALWAYS WILL ,   whether she wants it or not .   but he has no place between dante   &   the   BLACK HOLE   from whence she came   ━━━━   no one has any place there ,   not even their father .   were he to try to intervene ,   it would only cause more harm than good .   &   he will not harm his sister .

     “   that may be your point of view ,   ”   he utters at last ,   manicured fingers gliding over the gilded cover of the diary as he folds it closed ,   “   but i am not playing against you ,   dany .   i’m not confined to any one side of any board .   that’s how i’ve gotten as far as i have .   ”

    giorno rises from his seat ,   momentarily turning his back to dante to slide his diary in its designated place amid the shelf all but   OVERFLOWING   with books .   when he turns back to her ,   the jade of his eyes has taken on a soft ,   but   stern   glimmer ,   the way gemstones shine in a single beam of light amid a   SOMBER OVERCAST . 

    “   i think it would serve you to broaden your perspective .   ”

[rejectshumanity]

"my love," spoken with absolute adoration in her tone, a sweetness so unbecoming for the witch aside for him, even going as far as to elegantly curtsy -- merely showmanship, as opposed to necessary for many others -- and await his embrace; "what a joy it is that you've graced us with your return!" ( dannniiiiii <3 )

unprompted asks | ALWAYS ACCEPTING

enya's beauty is unworldly and unmatched, rivaled only by his own: an impossible jewel that would more suitably belong to the annals of myth or the domain of dreams, were she not a striking sight for his sore eyes to behold. and see how perfectly the place suits her. he cannot help himself — he must bask in the glow of her adoration, picturing how long she has awaited his return, like a loving pet who yearns for its absent master. her devotion never fails to win his favor.

❝ i've been cruel, ❞   he sighs, beckoning her forth with a curl of his bloodstained fingers.   ❝ for too long, i've deprived you of my presence. how shall i make it up to you? ❞