#FaB lore

[cbrownjc]

The problem is, HOTD only put thought into adjusting Rhaenyra's age but didn't put any work into adjusting the ages and timeline of anyone or anything else in the show to fit around that.

Again, sorry for comparing it to IWTV, but when that show decided to adjust and move up the timeline for when Louis was turned, it's clear it's not only Louis' character they looked at when adjusting that timeline. They clearly put thought into what Lestat would be doing for that extra 150 years; what Armand was doing during that extra time; how things would be different with Louis, Lestat, and Claudia staying in NOLA from 1910 to 1940, etc.,

The showrunner and writers of IWTV actually put thought into the implications of the timeline moving up not just for Louis' character but all the characters and the story as a whole. Meanwhile, with HOTD, I can't find any indication that the show took the timeline into consideration in any way beyond aging up Rhaenyra, because everything else is just so off.

It's lazy. It's lazy worldbuilding and writing. And throws things into the lore that were not there in the source material just to make one character seemingly look better than another for no reason other than that. Which, again, is just lazy.

Especially for those who are now screaming that Meleys chose Rhaenys and rejected Daemon, and this is canon because that was said so in a stupid show.

Rhaenys was born in 74 year after conquest, Daemon was born in 81. Rhaenys became a rider in 87 year a.c., when Daemon was six years old.

Baelon the Brave was mentioned as a loving and caring parent so I highly doubt he would allow his youngest son to try to tame a dragon in such young age.

Daemon did not try to become Meleys's rider, and she did not reject him for Rhaenys. At least in canon. I don't know what's going on with the characters' ages and timelines in the show.

[psychopomperanian]

@chemzee's hpma oc Melissa "Melly" Anscombe. i cant stop thinking about her

[blood-injections]

Every time I see the autism creature or the Better Living Industries logo I Immediately think of the other. It’s the eyes. My brain can’t help but put them together as the same species like they’re related to each other or something and anyway it’s been driving me mad so I’ve just incorporated it into my beliefs that some killjoy vandalized the BLI logo and created the autism creature and then were like. Wait this little guy is SO funky I love it. And instead of a like look lol I graffitied your logo it’s a pathetic creature now just like you lol it became like. This killjoys thing. And they’d spray paint it everywhere and eventually everyone in the zones just like. Knew about it. And it became a meme just like irl, it became lore among the killjoy. So anyway yeah autism creature and BLI correlation and creature iconic among killjoys

[m1smatched-starsigns]

For a WIP game: Half-Spirit Fireheart AU

in response to this post:

In which Fireheart is wounded in one of Brokenstar's ambushes and is slowly dying, and a StarClan warrior panics and gives Fireheart a life illegally. Fireheart wakes up and runs back to ThunderClan to help defend it, only to learn that days have passed and his Clanmates assumed he was killed.

Fireheart goes hunting for answers and finds the StarClan warrior in the forest, now a walking spirit that somehow only Fireheart can see. The spirit becomes something of a guide to Fireheart because now that he's half-spirit, he can see Things and he has Questions. He's also acting a little bit strange these days and his Clanmates are starting to get suspicious; since when does Fireheart have a short fuse? Since when does Fireheart unsheathe his claws sparring with apprentices? Since when does Fireheart stare Tigerclaw down like he wants to fight?

That's another thing. Graystripe is consumed with Silverstream and the civil war that's brewing in RiverClan, so the spirit also tries to counsel Fireheart not just on how to handle Tigerclaw, but how to handle all the political drama and the secrets that are being unearthed.

Take the first arc and give it a good shake, and you get a lot of familiar faces and scenarios but it quickly spirals into something completely different.

Featuring fallen angel trope; angry Fireheart (like the version that yelled at Bluestar because StarClan kicked out SkyClan over not enough trees); StarClan/Dark Forest lore; warrior Cinderpelt; spoiled-rotten-princess Silverstream; ShadowClan's sketchy new leader; uhh is Tigerclaw actually scared of Fireheart??; lowkey Fire/Sand sibling dynamics; and finally, "what would happen if somebody took Bluestar up on that offer she made one time?"

For fun, here's an excerpt of what I currently have written:

It isn’t until she lays her ear against his chest that she stiffens. Fireheart waits for her to ask a question, but when she stays silent, he asks, ��What’s wrong?”

“I’ve never heard a heart beat this slow,” Yellowfang whispers. “I don’t know how it’s still beating. Have you felt different, recently?” Worry creases the lines on her face. “Weak, or easily exhausted?”

For Yellowfang, Fireheart tries. He tries to find the words to describe how he’s felt since he woke up on the burial grounds.

Like someone broke all of my bones and then tried to meld them back together, but there are dents and cracks and they don’t fit the same anymore. Like there’s sun on my back but the warmth doesn’t touch me. Like fresh-kill lost its flavor. Like I dream about memories that don’t belong to me.

Like I’m half-flesh, half-spirit, a mistake.

“No,” lies Fireheart. “I’ve felt fine.”

[acaribeau]

"Perhaps the most crucial time in Devildom history was during the Eight Dynasty. Most notably, the "Wings of Darmius", another name for the various policies made by the Demon King Gardonus that put political pressure on the Celestial Realm. Thanks to this, the delicate balance that had existed between the two realms suddenly shifted in favor of the Devildom."

-Fab snap "Satan's curse"

The Demon King Gardonus -who has a holiday dedicated to him- was the responsable of the advantage of the Devildom in the war against the Celestial Realm

Probably Diavolo's father or grandfather.

@melody-ruskin

[someonetheelusivefangirl]

Wrightworth/Narumitsu Fic Rec!

(Thanks for another great rec, @wr1ghtw0rth!)

Want a vampire/werewolf AU?

Love some fake dating and the usual mess of feelings and confusion that comes with??

Like reading fics with great world building and imaginative rules around fantasy elements???

Need big wolfy Phoenix wanting to snuggle with Miles????

Then you should check out 'With the Phases of the Moon' by Puddor!

Wrightworth/Narumitsu Masterpost

[get-back-homeward]

In the last two years, I’ve encountered the quote “Ringo’s not even the best drummer in the Beatles” attributed to John more times than I can count.

It always hits my brain as wrong not just because I’m nothing if not a Ringo defender but because John knew how freakin lucky they were to have Ringo. If John did say it, it was almost surely intended as a joke and not one to be repeated by Ringo detractors as any kind of evidence of his skills 60 years later.

Fab Four Archivist says it never happened:

There are fans in the comments who swear they’ve seen video of the 1966 New York press conference where John says this. I’ve watched what I thought was the complete presser and do not remember it. It may be a case of the meme writing over memories.

Does anyone remember actually seeing this clip anywhere?

[13eyond13]

wait your beatles era is over? it was so fun eventhough i follow for death note content it just made my day seeing you enjoying something so much! :]

Awww no well it's not OVER over, as in I still really like them and will retain everything I learned about them during the last 3 or 4 months and still follow a lil handful of my fave Beatles blogs on here. It's just over as in I don't feel the need to fill my dash with literally hundreds of Beatles blogs or finish reading every giant biographer's tome I started reading about them anymore or wtv. And obvs you can always chat to me about them and still see me occasionally post about them! But thank you for saying so anyways haha

[joysona]

Open invitation to infodump abt your personal killjoy lore on this post !! Wether it be abt ur oc(s), the fab 4 or other canon characters, zones lore, whatever thoughts u have to scream into the void that u don’t wanna put into its own individual post feel free to leave it here!! I’ll start, oc lore below the cut :>

My oc is named sun spot! Theyre the babysitter and a fairy godmother for a gang called the cosmic crew out in zone 3. Other members of their gang include: Daisy Chain, Ballroom Blitz, and Jenny Jazz.

Sun spot has 2 sisters, both lost somewhere else in the zones. Their oldest sister, Milky Way, is a motorbaby tumbleweed that usually hangs out in the outer zones, and their other sister, Kosmic Khaos, is a crash queen and paper boy based in zone 2. Both are squeaky and lay low in thei eyes of BL/ind for the most part.

They’ve kinda been on a side quest to find their sisters for years. The three split up shortly after their parents died, having grown up in the zones. Their parents were ghosted in a firefight so bad it wiped out the gang they called home and everyone just scattered. Sun spot wound up in zone 2 several days later and was taken in by the cosmic crew in its early days, formerly run by a joy named Bottle Rocket. Other former members include Zombie Eyes and Space Age.

The primary function of the Cosmic Crew is to be a safe haven for joys on the run. Their city raids aren’t so focused on taking down BL/ind itself, but rather on dumpster diving, hijacking supply trucks, and scavenging food, clothes, and other necessities to sell for cheap in zone 3. They aim to take care of their own more than anything else.

The cosmic crew is based in zone 3 in an abandoned warehouse next to an old gas station and a single still-functioning streetlight. Inside, there are shopper stalls to buy food, jackets, etc, a huge section of hammocks and grungy old mattresses for joys to sleep on, a medic tent, and a couple workshops for the gangs resident smithy and gearhead to work out of. Walk in and find a tall ‘joy wearing pink bellbottoms and she’ll direct you to a fairy godmother if you need someone to patch up a jacket. The cosmic camp is open to squatters who need a place to crash as long as they dont bring trouble with them, first meal there is always free!

[fabdante]

every time a new zelda timeline comes out i live blissfully in the knowledge that i've been rejecting zelda canon practically since i got into zelda and none of this is ever going to apply to me

[ellearts]

Elle dad lore is insane.

[moonchild9350]

I'll See You in Your Dreams

Summary: You unknowingly summon an incubus after signing your name in an ancient book. Your dreams will never be the same.

Pairing: Incubus Jeongin x fab reader

Genre: Angst, Smut-18+ MDNI

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: nightmares, sleep paralysis, coercion, mention of souls, pussy job, multiple cum shots, nipple play, oral sex (f receiving), masturbation, squirting, unprotected sex (don't), creampie, mention of blood, mention of death

Notes: This one was took a lot of research as I stuck to the true lore of an incubus with some creative liberties of course. I hope you like this next installment!

If you enjoyed please consider a like, comment, and reblog as it keeps me motivated ♡

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024).

“I wake up with dreams falling from my eyes, and the night sky lingering in my heart, and when the sun forgets to come back for me, I make a home in the dark.” -Sabina Laura

It was a cloudy afternoon, the time of year when the sun hid, the warm rays gone swapped for darkness, the chill in the air enough to make you shiver, pull your sweater closer to your body and do a double take to look in the shadows for things that shouldn’t be.

You and your friend Aerith, decided to take a walk through town, holding cups of coffee from the local cafe in your hands to keep warm. You chattered about this and that, excited for the upcoming season, where your darkest dreams and desires can manifest.

The town was quiet, as most shops were closed, everyone gone home for the day. There was an eerie feel to the town, as darkness slowly closed in and mist began to fall from the sky. You walked and walked and as you got closer to the center of town, Aerith stopped, turning to eye the storefront of a shop.

It was abandoned, dust collecting on the windows, wooden boards plastered across the door to bar anyone from trespassing. The place was once a shop of oddities, selling anything from crystals, to candles, to books on witchcraft. The owners long gone, the shop not doing as well as they wanted in this sleepy town. You missed them being open, as you loved to browse through the shop, your fingers lightly brushing against the wares as you took in the different items.

“Look, there’s a piece of wood missing,” Aerith said, pointing to a gap in the boarded up door. “Let’s go in, see if anything was left behind.”

You considered your friend’s words, wanting to take a peek inside yourself. You’d love to get your hands on some of the items. No one was going to come back and get them.

“Sure, let’s go,” you said, nodding your head as you helped Aerith with the other boards so you could get in.

It didn’t take long, the wood old and on the verge of crumbling at the slightest touch. Dusting your hands off, you both stepped over the threshold into the darkness beyond. The air swirled with dust, the particles dancing around as you made your way further into the shop.

The air was thick and stale, the sound of footsteps of animals who have made their home in the abandoned building could be heard. You looked around, noticing how the displays were tipped over, items lying haphazardly on the counters.

You both looked around, going your separate ways, the only sound heard being your footsteps as your boots touched the rotting floor. You didn’t see anything that caught your eye, insignificant items being the only thing left behind. That is, until you came to the back corner of the shop.

You saw a square item that looked like a book sitting among the dusty shelves. You picked up the book and blew the dust off, so you could read the inscription. You searched, flipping the book over, but found no title. The book was beautiful, or at least it must have been during its prime.

There was an intricate design on the cover, the swirls kissing the edge of the book, giving way to little creatures in each corner. It seemed interesting, so you brought the book to where Aerith was so you could look at it together.

“Check this out,” you said, setting the book down in front of both of you.

“What is it?” Aerith asked, eyeing the book.

“No clue,” you said, “but let’s find out.”

You carefully opened the book to a random page, inscriptions and pictures littering the yellowing paper. You slowly flipped through the pages, reading what seemed to be latin. You stopped at a particular page, the designs catching your eye as well as a picture of a creature with wings.

“What does it say?” Aerith questioned, as she peered at the page, trying to read the words.

“Hmmmm.” You were trying to think back to your latin class that you took long ago, the words a jumbled mess in your brain. However, you were able to successfully translate the passage, a smile on your face in triumph.

It says,

Write your name on the line To enter into your wildest dreams Everything you’ve ever wanted As everything is as it seems

You paused after you finished reading the inscription, curiosity getting the best of you at the meaning of the words.

“So you only write your name on the line and then whatever you dream of should happen?” Aerith asked incredulously.

“Seems like it,” you replied.

“You should write your name down,” Aerith excitedly said. “Let’s see what happens.”

You considered her request. Should you write your name down? Nothing is going to happen anyway, as your dreams actually occurring seems too good to be true.

Thinking ‘fuck it,’ you searched for a pen in your bag. After finding one, you scribbled your name down, the sound of the pen scratching the page echoing throughout the empty shop. Once you were done, you stowed away your pen.

“There, we’ll see if anything happens.”

Aerith nodded her head, a smile on her face at the possibilities.

“Let’s go, it’s getting dark,” you said, noticing the shop was darker, the moonlight filtering in through the door, casting the only light in the shop.

You both made your way out, deciding to head back home, happy at the little adventure you had for the day. You parted ways at your street, saying goodbye, and promises of meeting up again tomorrow lingering in the air.

You walked up the steps to your home, stepping into the warm corridor, your cat Artemis, coming to greet you with a soft meow. You bent down to pet the cat behind the ears before kicking off your shoes and setting your keys down.

Locking your door, you then made your way upstairs to shower, before a cozy night in with your snacks and a good movie. Artemis came to cuddle with you, curling up and falling asleep next to you, his soft purrs warming your heart. It wasn’t long before you felt your eyes get heavy, the exhaustion from the day taking over.

Closing your eyes, you slipped into a deep sleep, letting your dreams take over your mind.

— —

You felt something heavy like an elephant sitting on your chest. The feeling was uncomfortable, causing you to gasp for air. Your eyes snapped open, as you tried to take a deep breath, just to find a creature perched on top of you.

You felt terror deep down as you stared at the thing, your eyes widening as you took in his form. He was well built, with chiseled abs, and a skinny frame. His eyes were as black as obsidian, the whites of his eyes nonexistent. You tried to look away as he stared down at you, not saying a word.

You made to move, but found you couldn’t as you were paralyzed on your back, helplessly staring at the being. He smirked at you, the edge of his lip curling up, revealing sharp teeth underneath.

“Shhh,” the creature said, placing his finger on your lips.

At his touch, you instantly felt warmth throughout your body, a tingling sensation building in your core. You didn’t know why, you couldn’t understand, but you knew you wanted this creature, thing, or whatever it was.

As he trailed his fingers down your face, your neck, your covered breasts, you felt the intensity of your arousal increase, the feeling of the weight on your chest getting worse as your body tried to accommodate the pleasure that you were feeling.

You watched as the man unzipped his pants, pulling out his leaking, hard cock, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. Your eye’s widened, or you thought they did, at the sight of it. You felt drool slowly trickle from the side of your mouth as you eyed his cock, angry and red and a perfect length.

He lifted your sleep shirt up, ripped your panties off, and began dragging his cock through your sopping folds, gathering your slick. You could hear your wetness as he repeated the motion again and again, the tip nudging your clit with each stroke.

The pleasure was blinding, the pressure building up within you, nice a warm with in your belly. You couldn’t move, you couldn’t speak, all you could do was feel as the man fucked your folds. You watched as his eyes dilated even further, as he reached to drag his finger down your lip, pushing the digit inside, and pushing down on your tongue, causing you to let out a noise.

Jeongin couldn’t believe his luck, that such a pretty creature was beneath him, your puffy folds swallowing his cock with each thrust. He watched your face as you attempted to move, not being able to do so since you were paralyzed, allowing him to use your sweet body as he pleased.

He slowly gained more energy, feeling slightly revived after siphoning off your soul, bit by bit. That was the key, to not drain you completely, no, he wanted you to be his new toy. He’s to visit day after day, your soul revitalizing him back to full strength.

Jeongin dragged his eyes down from your face to your sweet pussy. You were dripping, your wetness coating his cock, your folds, your thighs. He watched as his engorged tip kissed your pretty clit again and again, imagining the sweet sounds you’d make if you could.

The thought alone sent shivers down his spine, his orgasm approaching fast. He thrusted his hips faster, the sound of your wet pussy echoing throughout the quiet room, helping glide his cock along.

With another thrust, he came, his cum coating your pelvis, the white liquid catching the hairs adorning your nether region, glistening in the moonlight that shown through your windows.

He watched you closely, focusing on your face as he attempted to read your mind. You were in a state of both agony and ecstasy, the feeling of your orgasm within too overwhelming, but unable to move or say anything.

Jeongin smiled, satiated and full. Sweet girls like you had the best souls, the power spreading throughout him, allowing him to return to his full capacity. He would be back, to visit you in your dreams, to taste your sweet soul once more.

He transformed into his natural form, his tail expanding, his wings sprouting from his back, black as the night. He took flight, gazing at your face once more before taking off, a flash at the speed of light, leaving through your open window.

You laid there on your bed, your senses slowly coming back to you. You felt exhausted, not sure why, your memory of what just occurred gone. You began to flex your arms, your legs, the electrifying, tingling feeling spreading throughout as blood returned to them.

You turned on your side, trying to fall back asleep after what you assumed was a nightmare. It didn’t take long for you to succumb to a dreamless sleep, your body exhausted unbeknownst to you because a part of your soul being gone.

The next morning you awoke to your alarm, the shrill sound piercing the room at an ungodly hour. You reached over to turn off the nuisance, as you felt a yawn coming on.

You felt tired, as if you didn’t even sleep last night. Lying in bed, you stared at the ceiling, wishing you could sleep for another hour or two, or the whole day. Blinking a few times, you decided to get up, as unfortunately you had work today.

You made your way through your daily routine, which normally you could finish in no time at all. However, today you felt sluggish, as if you didn’t have the energy you normally had.

You also felt off, a constant tingle in your lower belly, causing arousal to drop from your core into your panties. You didn’t understand as you were just doing regular activities like brushing your hair, eating breakfast.

Before leaving, you had to change your panties as they were soaked. Finally you were ready, even though you felt exhausted and the tingle was ever present.

Your day went by, filled with people bothering you, asking you about this and that. You were ready to go home, as you felt like you were dragging more than usual during your shift. You tried not to look at the clock, keeping yourself occupied with little tasks you’ve been putting off.

Finally the time came, your boss letting you go home. You grabbed your bag and left before she could find another task for you to do. As you walked home, your phone rang, the tune loud in the otherwise quiet crowd. You accepted the call after seeing it was Aerith.

‘Hey! Wanna watch movies and pig out on snacks tonight?’

Normally you’d be ecstatic to have movie night with your best friend, but you wanted to nap, hoping that you’d feel better afterwards.

‘I’m gonna have to pass. I exhausted and I’m gonna nap.’

‘Really? Ok, we’ll have movie night another night then.’

‘Yes please. Maybe this weekend?’

‘You got it babe.’

You hung up and unlocked your door, as you had arrived at your apartment while you were on the phone. Throwing your bag down, you made your way to the couch, collapsing onto the pillows. You closed your eyes, falling asleep instantly.

You felt something crushing you. The feeling felt familiar, as you had a dream similar the other night, your subconscious reminding you of the experience. Your eyes snapped open, as you tried to grasp for breath, but found you were not able to. You blinked once, twice, to see a man hovering above you.

He seemed familiar, from his black eyes, to his beautiful body that was on display. He smiled at you before touching your thighs, his fingers brushing your skin, watching as it pebbled, the hairs raising one by one. The tingling sensation that you have felt all day intensified, almost becoming unbearable.

You tried to move, wanting to wrap your arms around the man, hold him close, as he did what he wanted with your sweet body. However, all you could was stare at him, hoping that he would give you what you wanted.

Jeongin came back to you. He craved you, just as much as you were most likely craving him. Your soul was so pure, filling him with untainted energy. He hooked his fingers within your waistband, his nails scratching your skin, drawing blood. He didn’t take his eyes from yours as he dragged your leggings down your thighs, your legs, until your lower half was freed.

He parted your legs, pushing them up, giving him a view of your sweet pussy. Your slick was present, gushing out of your hole, coating your thighs and folds. Licking his lips, he lowered his head, needing to taste you.

You couldn’t see him anymore, as the man ducked down, bringing his face towards your pussy. You could feel your arousal dripping like a faucet, increased ten fold at the touch of the man. You wanted to scream, whine out as you felt his fingers part your folds, his tongue darting out to lick a long stripe from your entrance to your clit.

You felt dizzy, the heavy feeling in your chest intensifying to the point of suffocation. The man didn’t slow down, but instead sped up, sucking your pudgy clit between his lips, his tongue darting out against it every now and then.

He licked up your arousal, reveling in the taste of you, somewhere between sweet and tangy. With each lick, suck, nip, he siphoned off more of your soul, his energy increasing.

You could feel tears build up in your eyes, the droplets slowly falling from the corners of your eyes as you felt the tingling become overwhelming, the need to cum imminent. If you could move you would be writhing under the man’s hold, wrapping your legs around his head, holding him close to smother him within your thighs.

The man continued to eat you out, his tongue fucking your little hole, licking up every drop of your arousal, the sounds of his groans filling the room. You were close, the electrifying feeling spreading through your legs, your belly, before it snapped, the pleasure so overwhelming, your body trembled within the man’s hold.

Jeongin slurped up your slick as you squirted into his mouth, making sure not to waste one drop. He was well fed, his energy ten fold, his body savoring your soul but also your sweet cum. He licked his lips, gathering your slick that was present there.

Grinning, he pulled out his erect cock. He stroked the hard appendage, once, twice, three times before cumming, the sticky substance coating your belly, your pussy, painting the canvas of your skin.

Jeongin fixed his clothes before sprouting his wings, disappearing before you could fully wake up.

You watched as the man vanished, before you lot out a loud gasp, your body waking up from the nightmare. You weren’t sure what happened, not being able to once more remember your nightmare.

You felt gross, sweat coating your skin. You decided to take a shower, hoping to get rid of the feeling. Getting up, you noticed you still felt exhausted, more so than before you took your nap. You could barely stand, your legs weak, your eyes barely able to stay open.

You made it to the shower nonetheless, using the aid of walls and counters to hold you up. You were able to shower, the warm water feeling like heaven on your sticky skin. You let out a shaky breath, noticing that the tingling ache was still there, but worse.

You felt turned on, craving for someone to touch you, coaxing orgasm after orgasm from you. With what little energy you had left, you brought your fingers to your pussy, the digits brushing through your folds to relieve the pressure, your orgasm causing you to shake and moan out, louder than you ever have before.

Despite this, the ache was still there, waiting to be tamed. You didn’t know what was going on, your brain muddled, your body weak.

As the days went on, you did not improve.

You were plagued with nightmares night after night, waking up in a sweat, paralyzed in fear. You still couldn’t remember what occurred during these moments, your mind empty when you wake up from them.

The ache between your legs became insatiable, nothing being able to relieve you. You called out of work each day, claiming you were sick and couldn’t get out of bed, which was not a complete lie. You ignored Aerith’s calls, her voicemails and texts showing more worry as the days went on.

Friday finally came around after a miserable week. The wind was howling, the branches of the trees outside your window tap, tap, tapping on the glass. You could hear the rain, the sound typically soothing causing you to be more on edge. You flinched as the thunder rang out, causing the frame of the house to shake.

You were lying in bed, curled up under your blankets, your breath shaky. You couldn’t remember the last time you were able to eat, not having the energy to get out of bed to do so. You probably smelt sour, not able to make it to the bathroom to take a shower. You had made a makeshift bathroom while you still had to energy to do so.

Your eyes were open, the orbs staring at the window, watching the lightening flash through your curtains. You took breath after breath, as your lungs tried to fill with air. You gripped your blankets, your fingers curling around the soft material, bringing you some comfort in your ailment.

You didn’t move when you heard Aerith enter your apartment, making her presence known by shouting your name. Your eyes traveled to her as she stood in front of you, shock plastered on her face.

“What the hell happened to you?” She exclaimed, her hand flying to her mouth.

She has never seen you look so bad. Your eyes sunken in, dark rims surrounding the sockets. You looked ashen and pale, as you took a rattlely breath.

“Aerith…” You whispered, not able to project your voice.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and some food in you, ok? We can talk afterwards.”

You shook your head in agreement, or you thought you did, the action barely noticeable. You watched as your friend moved around your room, tidying up. You could hear the bath running, the scent of your favorite bubble bath filling the room, a welcomed scent to the stale air that you have been inhaling for days.

Aerith took care of you, carefully scrubbing you clean, helping you change into clean clothes. She changed your sheets, putting fresh ones on, while putting the old ones to wash. She helped you back into bed, fluffing the pillows behind you, promising to go make you a warm meal, one that was sure to help you feel better.

You smiled in thanks, hoping the action met your eyes. You were thankful for your friend, as she came to your aid. You sat in bed, bundled under fresh blankets, listening to Aerith bustle around the kitchen, the scent of something tasty drifting through your apartment.

You felt better, clean, more level headed, ready to fill your stomach with food. You still had the ache down below, the feeling never having fully gone away. You tried to ignore it and focus on Aerith, who came into your room with a tray filled with soup.

Setting it down in front of you, you noticed she had made chicken soup, the perfect meal to help you feel better. She watched as you slowly spooned the food into your mouth, bite after bite. You felt warm, the cold feeling slowly dissipating as you filled your belly.

You licked your lips after taking the last bite, setting the spoon down. Despite this, you noticed you still felt exhausted. Aerith took the tray away and then sat down next to you.

“What’s wrong y/n?” She asked, concern in her eyes.

“I’m not sure,” you said, “I started to feel bad beginning last week. Over the last few days I’ve had no energy.”

You paused for a moment, taking a break as speaking even took your breath away.

“I’m just so exhausted Aerith. And I’ve had this ache, it won’t go away.”

You did not mention the nightmares, thinking they were unrelated.

Aerith regarded you for a moment, listening to your words. This seemed more than just an illness, but she wasn’t sure what else it could have been.

You both forgot about your little outing, breaking into the abandoned shop, discovering the book in which you wrote your name. But that did not cross your minds.

“Well rest up ok?” Aerith said, tucking the blankets around you. “I’ll check back in tomorrow.”

You nodded, thanking your friend for her help. You watched as she left your room, listening to the door click signaling her exit. You settled into bed once more, comfortable in the clean linen. You felt your eyes droop, eventually closing once more.

You slept a dreamless sleep, until you felt the heaviness again, signaling you were having a nightmare. Your eyes snapped open, the man above you. You took a breath and noticed you could actually do so, which was different than your other nightmares. You could also move, as you wiggled your toes, your fingers, the digits actually moving at your command.

“Y/n, my darling,” the man’s voice rang out, deep and commanding but yet alluring and sweet like nectar.

“Who are you?” You asked, finally able to ask the question that’s been on your mind for weeks.

“Jeongin, my darling. Now lay back and let me care for your sweet body.”

You relaxed at his touch, the sinews of your muscles releasing one by one allowing you to lay calmly. You eagerly awaited as he rid you of your clothes, your body giving off a glow in the dark room.

You mewled as his fingers brushed over your nipples, down your body until he reached your thighs, continuing until the pad of his thumb placed pressure against your aching clit. You watched as he removed his clothes, in awe of his toned body, his nipples peaked, his chilled abs, his cock that sat against his abdomen, erect and leaking.

Jeongin grasped his cock and brushed it through your folds, coating it in your slick. You awaited with bated breath as he pushed the tip in, your tight walls opening up for his cock. You let out a low moan as he pushed it further, inch by inch within your walls until he reached the hilt.

You were on cloud nine, the ache finally abating as your needs were being taken care of, your walls being split open by his cock. You felt pleasure like you’ve never felt before, as he thrusted into you at a steady pace. Jeongin adjusted his stance, the change allowing the tip to kiss your cervix, causing you to clench around his length.

You reached out, bringing Jeongin close to you, willing him to go deeper within you, your pussy clenching again and again. You were close, this man bringing you closer to your orgasm, your bodies becoming one, as he took you to paradise. With a cry, you came, your arousal leaking out of your pussy, coating Jeongin’s pelvis.

He grinned at your release, knowing that the end was near. He’s glad you were his next victim, the best one yet. He could feel the end of your soul, as what was left was feather thin. He continued to pound into you, groaning as your walls sucked him in, as you creamed around him in your release.

He watched as the light dimmed in your eyes, the orbs becoming more vacant as time went on. You were still breathing, but barely, your chest slowly rising and falling. It was time, to perform the final act, Jeongin feeling his release rear to a head.

With a loud groan he came, coating your walls for the first and last time, the little bit of your soul left drained. He grinned, his fingers brushing your cheek, feeling the chill on your skin. You breathed and then stuttered, your heart beating erratically.

Yes, you were sweet, his most prized victim. He is glad you walked into that shop that one day, found the book and signed away your fate. Jeongin believes your end should be swift, as simple as falling asleep. Yes, he could grant you even that.

Leaning down, he hovered over you, listening to your breaths, as you clung onto life. He pressed his lips onto yours, sealing your fate with a kiss. He felt your body still, your eyes vacant. Your breaths faint, the air barely gracing his face.

He leaned back, admiring his work, memorizing your face, your body one last time before flying away, snuffing out any light that was left in the room.

As you laid in your bed, you stared at the ceiling, your body frozen unable to move. You could barely fill your lungs with air, your heart barely beating. The air became cold around you, like someone left a window open, the cold air chilling your skin.

You rejoiced as the ache was gone, sweet relief after so many days in agony. As a matter of fact, you felt no pain, you felt nothing at all. After a while of gazing at the ceiling, a bright light filled the room, the light warm as if it was the sun itself warming the room. You felt nothing, your body felt light, like it was floating, your mind blank.

As you laid in your bed, you felt at peace, a peace you’ve never felt before, as if everything will be ok. And as you took another shaky breath, your lungs barely expanding, you knew that yes, everything will finally be as it should.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @seungfl0wer @velvetmoonlght

[seraphinitegames]

The Wayhaven Chronicles - Update 19/Jan/2024

Flu is not fun, lol! Was very thankful when my head started working again after the flu fog started to shift.

Thank you so much for all the well wishes and kind messages last week! <3

But it was back to it finally this week. I was reacquainting myself with the whole of Book 4’s plan, as well as making some adjustments to things I’d thought about over Christmas break.

Then it was onto Adam/Ava’s scene, which has been a lovely thing to come back to after being ill. It’s way more cosy of a scene than usual for A and the MC! :D

Also working on more behind the scenes, mechanics stuff, which I think will be a long ongoing thing over next few months. Trying to get organised on that and really get things nailed down on coding and variables as well as some important upcoming aspects of lore.

As I’m slowly working my way through sprucing up Book One, I’m so amazed at how much I’ve learnt (and am still learning!) since then from coding and things!

Next week, it’ll be continuing on with what I was working on this week- hopefully finishing up A’s scene and moving onto F’s! I'll update you again next week, have a fab weekend!

[blood-injections]

Thinking about Korse in the comics when he’s been gradually getting free will and making his own choices after god knows how long of being the directors lap dog and of all things he’s found love and happiness in this cold city but then it gets taken away from him. He’s actively hiding the relationship and protecting his lover because as he says in the comic, he can’t take the day off to relax becuase “I can’t do anything that would make her suspect you exist- that we exist.” Because his lover would be killed for it and he’d be severely punished. But the director figures him out and seriously, I adore Becky Cloonan but fuck her for the way she drew the fear and pain in Korse’s eyes. He’s not at home and the directors talking and you can see how fucking scared he is and he runs home to find his lover slaughtered and the bedroom covered in his blood and he cradles his body and cries. Once he was a killing machine with no thought of his own and now he’s on the other end of it all, having the only thing he loves being taken away. And the director tries to reprogram him, saying that love has made him weak and that emotions have no place in battery city, in a heartless killer like him. She says “there’s something wrong with you and we are going to fix it.” but he refuses to be fixed. Before this happens he already let Blue escape, says he’s had enough too. And then he finally, for the first time in his life, fights back. Owns that there’s nothing wrong with him, that the only thing that’s wrong is the director and bat city. He destroys the thing that was meant to reprogram him and he kills the director and says “no more killing” and as battery city is saved he flees, driving into the desert, headed who knows where, with a picture of him and his lover clipped to the sun visor and he touches it so gently, fingers lingering tenderly over a happy memory.

He’s free, but if he went to anyone they wouldn’t pity him even if they knew what he had lost, because everyone else has lost so much more at his hands. He’s done so many unforgivable things, killed the Fab Four and who knows how many other rebels. But that also wasn’t him, he was controlled by the director, the drugs, he wasn’t a person until the last couple years. But nobody accepts that, just continues to fear him even though the war is over and when all he wants is to not be lonely.

[novaursa]

Of Gods and Men (exodus)

Introduction

This is Dune/GOT/HOTD/FAB/ASOIAF crossover AU that you've voted for. If you always wanted to see House Targaryen in space, I got you. Please note how some of the lore of both universes is bent to blend in both worlds. This is my original idea that I've been cooking for at least two years. Be gentle with my work, and enjoy the ride.

- Summary: House Targaryen survives their ancient exile after being overthrown by House Corrino and the Bene Gesserit. Fleeing to the unknown planet Albiron, the Targaryens build a hidden civilization powered by drakaon crystals, reviving their dragons and creating advanced technology. Millennia later, whispers of their survival begin to surface as the Bene Gesserit confront a mysterious Red Woman on Arrakis, who warns of a coming Prince That Was Promised destined to challenge their control. The Targaryens secretly prepare to return, ready to reclaim their legacy.

- Paring: reader!Daenys Targaryen/Leto Atredies

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Note: For more details about House Targaryen and their technology, please check out the masterlist.

- Next part: contact

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

Millennia before the reign of the Padishah Emperors, before the Guild navigators learned to bend space, and long before the Bene Gesserit began their breeding program, there was another power, a House whose name was whispered with awe and fear across the stars—House Targaryen of Valyria.

In those ancient days, Valyria was a shining jewel of the universe, a world of towering spires and grand pyramids, whose mighty fleets ruled not one world but twelve. From the skies of Laansarad to the distant colonies of Qohar and Sarnor, their banner—a red three-headed dragon on a field of black—was a symbol of dominion, and their words, "Fire and Blood," were a promise. Their secret to power was not only their advanced technology or their skill in combat, but something far older, something the Imperium would come to call "unnatural." For the Targaryens were bonded to creatures of legend—dragons—whose very existence defied the laws of nature and technology.

But their power, their fire, had not gone unnoticed.

Once they emerged, the Bene Gesserit Sisterhood, ever-seeking control of bloodlines to further their goals, had long coveted House Targaryen's strength. Yet they could not penetrate the Targaryen bloodline, for the House was immune to the Sisterhood's manipulations. Rumors abounded that the dragons themselves had gifted their riders with an ancient magic that made them resistant to the spice and to the Bene Gesserit’s arts. The Targaryens did not bow, did not mingle their blood with the lesser Houses of the Imperium, and did not submit to the Sisterhood’s schemes. This isolation, this defiance, would be their undoing.

It began as whispers in the shadows of the imperial court of House Corrino, whispers that spoke of Valyria’s growing influence and its potential threat to the Emperor's rule. Fearing the power of House Targaryen and the dragons they commanded, House Corrino, in secret alliance with the Bene Gesserit and several other noble houses, set in motion a betrayal that would forever change the galaxy.

Without warning, the skies of Valyria turned dark as Corrino's fleets descended upon the planet like locusts. Great dreadnoughts unleashed their fury, raining nuclear fire upon the unsuspecting cities. The Targaryens, though powerful, were not prepared for such treachery. The star cities of Valyria, with their grand pyramids and towering spires, were reduced to ash in a matter of hours. Their colonies—once strongholds of the Targaryen vassal Houses—were similarly annihilated in the firestorm.

The Bene Gesserit, cold and calculating, had played their part well. They ensured that no Targaryen blood would escape their reach, confident that the ancient dragonlords were now a cautionary tale, a reminder that even the greatest Houses could fall.

But they were wrong.

In the chaos, a single fleet—a fraction of the once-mighty armada—managed to escape the inferno. Led by Aenar Targaryen, a visionary dragonlord, and his most loyal vassals, the remnants of House Targaryen fled into the void. Their dragons, too, escaped, fleeing with their riders into the unknown. With the enemy forces closing in, Aenar made the hardest decision of his life. He ordered the abandonment of the civilian starships—hundreds of them—that could not jump through space at the speed needed to escape. Tens of thousands of men, women, and children—innocent lives—were sacrificed to buy time for the chosen few. As the slow ships limped away at sub-light speed, doomed to be caught by their pursuers, the core fleet vanished in the blink of an eye, jumping to coordinates no one in the known galaxy had ever seen.

In their flight, they left behind only death and ruin, convincing the Imperium that House Targaryen was no more. The Bene Gesserit believed the bloodline had been wiped out. House Corrino celebrated their victory, confident that their throne was secure.

But the Targaryens were not dead.

As the surviving ships jumped further and further into uncharted space, their surviving dragons roared in defiance. Aenar Targaryen vowed that his House would rise again. The fire that had consumed Valyria would be reborn, and one day, the red three-headed dragon would fly again over the stars.

Their enemies had only bought themselves time.

In the vast, unknown reaches of space, the last of House Targaryen sought a new home, far from the grasp of the Empire, far from the Bene Gesserit’s eyes. In their hearts burned a single truth: fire and blood. It was all they had left.

And it was all they would need.

Far beyond the reach of the known universe, in the vast and uncharted depths of space, the last of House Targaryen drifted. For weeks, their ships had traveled through the void, their destination unknown, their hopes tethered only to the coordinates embedded in their ancient star charts. Aenar Targaryen, now the sole leader of his House, stood at the helm of his flagship, his mind consumed by thoughts of what was lost and what might yet be found.

Then, the scanners caught sight of something—a planet unlike any they had ever seen. Its atmosphere glowed a rich, deep red, the color of blood under an alien sun. Its oceans shimmered like rubies, and its vast jungles, though strange and wild, thrummed with life. The planet seemed to call to them, a beacon of hope in the darkest night.

"This is it," Aenar said, his voice carrying the weight of a prophecy. "We shall call it Albiron."

As the Targaryen ships descended upon the planet's surface, they found a world brimming with untapped potential. The air was thick but breathable, rich with minerals that nourished the vast jungles below. Towering mountains stretched into the sky, their peaks capped with dormant volcanoes. Aenar made his home there, at the highest point, building a grand pyramid into the volcanic chain that would serve as both fortress and palace. Around it, more pyramids soon rose, connected by a complex nexus of pathways above the dark amber forests. Below, cities began to form, hidden by the jungle canopy, shielded from prying eyes.

Albiron was a world of secrecy, and House Targaryen would see to it that their new home remained unknown to the Imperium and its allies.

As they delved deeper into the planet's surface, they made a discovery that would change the course of their history. In the heart of a vast canyon, buried beneath layers of rock and time, they uncovered a crystal unlike any they had seen before. The crystals, translucent with a faint golden hue, pulsed with an energy that seemed almost alive. Aenar named them drakaon, in honor of the dragons that once ruled Valyria, and the power they held was nothing short of revolutionary.

The drakaon crystals, as they soon learned, could be harnessed as a new energy source. They could be used to fuel their ships, making long-distance space travel possible without the reliance on melange—the spice that had kept the Imperium in control of the stars. For the first time in millennia, the Targaryens were free from the constraints of the galaxy’s economy, free from the Guild's stranglehold on space travel. Their technology advanced rapidly, fueled by the power of the drakaon crystals, and soon, the Targaryens had fleets capable of crossing the stars without detection, fleets that no longer needed to bow to the powers of the known universe.

In secret, they thrived. The cities of Albiron grew more complex and advanced, their pyramids rising higher, their pathways extending further across the planet’s vast jungles. Their ships patrolled the unknown regions, mapping uncharted stars and ensuring that no one would find their new home.

But the greatest secret of all lay within the depths of their new world.

Within hidden caverns, deep beneath the volcanoes of Albiron, Aenar and his descendants built vast hatcheries. Here, using knowledge salvaged from the lost archives of Valyria, they revived their ancient bond with dragons. Clutch by clutch, new dragons were born, their eggs glowing with the same fiery life that had once illuminated the skies of Valyria. The first to hatch was a magnificent beast, its scales a deep, molten red, its eyes like twin suns. They named it Vexarion, a harbinger of the new Targaryen age.

As the hatcheries grew, so too did the dragons, each one bonded to a rider, as had been the tradition for millennia. Once more, the Targaryens flew on dragonback, their fire-breathing companions reclaiming the skies of Albiron. They were stronger, fiercer than ever, their lifespans prolonged by the spice, their health enhanced by the crystals, just as their ancestors had once done. The galaxy believed the last dragons had died millennia ago, but here, on this blood-red planet, they lived—and they thrived.

Under Aenar’s leadership, House Targaryen rebuilt its strength. They did not forget their defeat, nor did they forgive it. But they had learned patience. For now, they would remain hidden, waiting, watching, biding their time in the shadows of the Imperium. They would rise again, but not yet. For now, their future lay in the skies above Albiron, in the bond between dragon and rider, in the power of the drakaon crystals that flowed beneath their feet.

Thousands of years had passed since the fall of Valyria, and the known galaxy had all but forgotten the name Targaryen. House Corrino ruled unchallenged, the Bene Gesserit continued their manipulations, and the spice flowed as the lifeblood of the Imperium. The Targaryens, once feared and powerful, were now little more than a cautionary tale—a story told to remind the galaxy of the dangers of defying the throne.

But in the far reaches of space, beyond the gaze of the Emperor, beyond the Sisterhood’s influence, whispers had begun to circulate. Minor Houses in the fringe systems spoke in hushed tones of strange transactions, of peculiar spice shipments that defied the standard flow of commerce. Most notably, a small, unassuming House known as House Vex had begun to quietly sell a specific brand of spice to select, discreet buyers.

The spice itself was nothing extraordinary at first glance—reddish-brown in color, with the same faint glow that all melange possessed. Yet, when examined closely, it held properties that puzzled even the most skilled refiners. It resisted traditional refinement processes, requiring a unique method of rensfuration to unlock its full potency. And it was always purchased by the same anonymous entity, whose representatives never gave names, never left a trace.

Rumors swirled throughout the Imperium. Some said the spice had properties that could extend life far beyond what even melange could achieve. Others whispered that it had been tailored for use in genetic experimentation, perhaps even to create a superhuman race immune to the Bene Gesserit's influence. The most outlandish rumors claimed it was being used to resurrect a forgotten House, one whose bloodline had been immune to the Sisterhood’s powers millennia ago.

At first, the whispers were dismissed. Minor Houses always had their secrets, after all, and House Vex was hardly influential enough to warrant concern. But as more and more shipments of this peculiar spice quietly disappeared into the unknown universe, suspicions began to grow. The Spacing Guild noticed the irregularities in the spice routes, and the Bene Gesserit began to pay attention. Still, no one dared speak openly of it—House Corrino had no interest in encouraging the notion of a long-lost enemy returning from the shadows.

In truth, the rumors were closer to the truth than anyone realized.

Deep within the jungles of Albiron, the Targaryens had mastered the art of spice refinement—not for their own use, but for their dragons. The spice, in its raw form, had always been a valuable tool to extend human life and grant certain enhancements, but the Targaryens had discovered a very specific strain, a rare and potent variant that, when carefully refined, could do far more. It extended not just the lifespan of their dragons but enhanced their vitality, their strength, their fire. The dragons of Albiron, already magnificent creatures of fire and fury, became more resilient, more powerful than they had ever been in Valyria.

This strain of spice could only be harvested under particular conditions, and it required an even more delicate process of rensfuration, one that took years to perfect. The Targaryens had kept this secret for generations, using it only sparingly to ensure their dragons thrived in exile. And to maintain their anonymity, they allowed House Vex—a small House bound to them in loyalty for centuries—to sell a portion of the raw spice to the wider galaxy, hiding the true purpose of the refined strain.

The transactions were always discreet, the buyers carefully selected to ensure that no one could trace the spice back to Albiron. Yet despite all their precautions, the galaxy had begun to take notice. The mystery surrounding the spice—and the shadowy figures who bought it—grew with each passing year.

The Bene Gesserit, ever watchful, sensed a disturbance in the patterns of the Imperium. Though they could not put their finger on it, the Sisterhood had learned to listen for the subtle currents of power that ran through the universe, and something was shifting. The idea that a House immune to their influence could have survived all these years in secret sent a ripple of unease through their ranks. They began to dig deeper, their agents searching for any clue that might lead them to the source of the rumors.

House Corrino, too, grew wary. The spice trade was the lifeblood of the Empire, and any irregularity in its flow could have disastrous consequences. The Emperor’s spies were dispatched to the farthest corners of the galaxy, though none returned with answers.

Still, the rumors persisted. The spice that had no clear origin. The mysterious buyers from beyond known space. The possibility that a forgotten House might yet live.

In the halls of the Imperium, no one spoke openly of House Targaryen. To do so would invite questions that no one wanted to answer. But in the dark corridors of power, in the quiet whispers between those who dealt in secrets, the name began to surface again.

Targaryen.

Fire and blood.

The galaxy had forgotten them, but House Targaryen had never forgotten the galaxy. And as their dragons grew stronger, as their power in exile continued to build, they waited.

For one day, the whispers would no longer be rumors.

And when that day came, the stars themselves would tremble.

The scorching winds of Arrakis blew fiercely through the narrow streets of Arrakeen, carrying with them the dry scent of spice and the whispers of rebellion. The city, usually shrouded in an oppressive silence broken only by the occasional hum of machinery, now thrummed with tension. A crowd had gathered in the heart of the city, their faces hidden beneath hoods and veils to protect against the harsh sun, their voices rising in fervor as they listened to the woman who stood before them, bathed in the blood-red light of the setting sun.

She was known only as the Red Woman, a stranger from a distant corner of the galaxy, draped in flowing crimson robes that shimmered in the heat. Her eyes burned with an unnatural fire, and her voice, rich and commanding, seemed to cut through the dry air like a blade.

“Brothers, sisters,” she called out, her voice echoing through the square. “You have been deceived! For too long, the Bene Gesserit have whispered their lies into the ears of your leaders, guiding the hand of the Empire toward a future of darkness and death. But the Lord of Light has seen their evil, and He has sent me to show you the truth.”

The crowd murmured in agreement, their eyes locked on the Red Woman as she raised her hands, flames seemingly dancing at her fingertips.

“The night is dark and full of terrors,” she intoned, her voice growing louder. “But there is a light coming, a flame that will burn away the lies of the Bene Gesserit. The false messiah they prepare will lead to the deaths of billions! But the Prince That Was Promised, the true savior, will rise and deliver us from their evil.”

The crowd erupted into shouts of agreement, their fists raised toward the sky as the Red Woman’s message of salvation stirred their hearts. But not everyone in Arrakeen was so moved by her words.

From the shadows of a nearby alley, a figure emerged, flanked by a dozen Bene Gesserit acolytes. The Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam, her face etched with the lines of age and power, strode forward with the grace of a predator. Her sharp blue eyes took in the scene before her, the riotous crowd, the Red Woman at their center, and the burning passion in their eyes. She had seen such passion before, in other corners of the universe, and she knew well the danger it posed.

The Red Woman turned her gaze toward the Bene Gesserit as they approached, her lips curling into a cold smile. “Ah, the serpents come to silence me,” she said, her voice dripping with mockery. “Do you fear the truth, Mother?”

Mother Mohiam’s expression remained unchanged as she stepped forward, her voice as cold as the sands of Arrakis at night. “You have no place here, woman. You are not of Arrakis, and you bring only chaos to these people. Leave this world, now, or you will face the consequences.”

The Red Woman laughed, the sound high and sharp, cutting through the murmur of the crowd. “I serve only the Lord of Light, not your false Empire or your twisted Sisterhood. You, who claim to see the future, who shape the paths of men to serve your own ends, are the true servants of darkness. You pave the way for a false messiah who will bring nothing but death and destruction to the universe.”

The Bene Gesserit acolytes shifted uneasily behind Mother Mohiam, but she stood firm, her eyes locked on the Red Woman. “You speak of a prophecy you do not understand,” she said. “The future is not for the untrained mind to glimpse. You meddle with forces beyond your comprehension.”

“The future is clear to those who serve the Light,” the Red Woman retorted. “Your Kwisatz Haderach, your so-called savior, will be the harbinger of death. He will lead the universe into a war that will consume entire worlds, killing billions. But the Prince That Was Promised will come, and he will burn away the lies you have sown.”

The crowd began to stir again, their fear and anger rising as the Red Woman’s words took hold. Mother Mohiam could feel the pulse of the mob, the heat of their desperation, and knew that if she did not act soon, this riot would spread like wildfire through the streets of Arrakeen.

“You play with fire,” Mother Mohiam said softly, stepping closer to the Red Woman. “And fire will consume you.”

The Red Woman smiled, her eyes gleaming. “The night is dark and full of terrors, Mother. You would do well to remember that.”

With that, the Red Woman raised her hands, and for a brief moment, flames flared at her fingertips once more before she stepped back into the shadows. Her followers, emboldened by her defiance, began to chant, their voices growing louder as they echoed her words.

“The night is dark and full of terrors. The Prince That Was Promised will come.”

Mother Mohiam watched as the Red Woman disappeared into the crowd, her eyes narrowing in thought. She had faced zealots before, had seen the power of faith wielded as a weapon. But this… this was something different. The Red Woman’s words echoed in her mind, unsettling her in a way few things ever had.

As the crowd began to disperse, the tension lingering in the air like the scent of spice after a storm, Mother Mohiam turned to her acolytes.

“Find her,” she said quietly. “Find her and bring her to me. We must know who she truly serves.”

For a moment, she stood in the empty square, the wind stirring the dust around her feet. She looked up at the burning sky, the twin suns casting long shadows across the desert, and a chill ran down her spine despite the heat.

The night is dark and full of terrors, indeed.

And Mother Mohiam knew that the terrors were only beginning.

- A/N: Let's see how well this does before I post another part.

[queenhunter102]

Part 7 (PART 6) (Part 8) Lore Page

You walk into the hall noting that everyone has vanished, ‘Guess they don’t get much free time’ you think as you head in a random direction, you have somehow managed to make it to the canteen, and you take a seat at an empty table unsure if anyone would welcome you openly.

As you got comfortable, your eyes lazily going over the crowd, your eyes meet the Alpha you had gotten into a fight with you sigh as you force your eyes to move not wanting him to take you as a threat, nor did you want him to believe that you wanted to go round two on kicking his ass.

“You know, for someone who came from NBOC you sure have shit instincts,” a voice says, making you jump, your head snapping to the end of the table where Simon sat, you roll your shoulders, trying to shift the tension in your shoulders.

“Not shit, just there are bigger threats than you,” you say, as your eyes flick to that pissy Alpha, you freeze when his eyes meet yours, and you shift them away, turning your head to Simon.

“That’s fair, you know that the Alpha you beat down, is walking over,” he says, as he casually pulls out his phone, you give him a panicked look before you forcibly relax your shoulders and turn to him smiling at him.

“You are hiding behind your Commanding Officers, little breeder,” the Alpha says, the fake smile on your face drops, as you disengage from the Alpha, refusing to acknowledge the slur.

“Can the little breeder, not take confrontation?” he says, your shoulders tense a little as you rub a spot on the table, you were used to this, you were used to Alpha’s seeing you as shit they scrapped off their shoe.

The Alpha laughed, turning his head to the table he had come from, “Guys come look at the little Beta-wanna-be” he said, goading you.

You crack your neck, refusing to let him win, you refuse to let get a rise out of you, you did not want to add to your disciplinarian.

You shivered when you heard a low growl come from behind you, “Really? Jenson, You’ve already been to Med-Bay once, do you want to make it Twice” a voice you recognised as Gaz came from the end of the table, you looked up at him smiling at him. “Oh, come on Gaz, they’re an Omega, their breeding holes nothing more” The Alpha you can now identify as Jenson, a shadow grow over Jenson, “Watch how you talk to our new member, you’ve been warned once, by them and twice by Gaz, do you want to make it a third” Simon said, Jenson glared at you his eyes practically laser-like, as he shakes his head “No sir”, you turn your head pretending to rub your nose, hiding your smile.

Jenson, growled as he walked away humiliated for a second time today.

“Man, we cannot leave you alone” Gaz said, as he settled down beside you a tray of food, in front of him, he offered you a fruit stick.

“You want one? I know Omegas have cravings for things all the time” you nod your head as you take the offered fruit stick.

“Yeah, I tend to crave Ice-lollies more than anything, specifically Fabs” Gaz nods his head.

“I’ll let provisions know,” Simon said, as he walked away from the table, “Is just me or is he suspicious” you say as you take a bite out the fruit stick, Gaz snorted beside you trying not to choke on the fruit, “Shit don’t say that around Johnny”