#Sol Firelight

[rainyydxyz]

I'm sorry for so abruptly moving from the crk fandom to the toh fandom.

But hey we got good art from it. [Ignore the top right and bottom left, I'm very disappointed in them.]

[bluerasbunny]

and another oc, same universe as orion and phoenix, from humble origins as an AU of a robot jester into a fully fledged OC;

sol lucero lunette! sporting the worlds biggest superiority complex, a massive skeleton in his closet and an insistence on rules, he makes for a very interesting character! by far my favorite of my ocs, even if he's a pain in the ass to draw...

GREY AREA TO HIDE SMTH SPOILERY! forgot to put his age on the sheet but he's 15!!

[aspiringtrashpanda]

Not @shootingstarrfish and I trying to come up with some sort of timeline for when Solomon first meets Diavolo like "It was before the fall, and the fall would be roughly around 1700 BCE as that's what Google refers to as "biblical times" and we know humans already existed because of the Lilith of it all, so it wasn't before the creation of Adam and Eve. We can assume Sol is going to be where it's bumpin', so if we look at Babylon in 1800-1700 BCE, we can get an idea of his outfit and what's going on in the world." ...And then we remember that this a fictional game about romancing immortal beings. Find the prompt list HERE.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

DAY 31 Prompt: Diavolo 1.5k Solomon first meets the future King of the Devildom FEATURING ART BY @shootingstarrfish

Solomon took a deep breath, gazing up at the spectacle that was the Demon King’s castle. The marble steps were particularly elegant, a unique crimson color that Solomon assumed to be native to the Devildom. The Fountain of Knowledge promised an increased use of marble to demonstrate wealth and power, but he knew it would be a number of years before Egypt began to utilize the material in places of worship.  

Solomon himself had planted the seed in Thebes, but his current home of Babylon relied primarily on brickl. Even the most impressive temples paled in comparison to the castle looming before him, three stories high and surrounded by deep green flora. Where the Babylonians compensated for detail with size, the demons contracted to erect the King’s abode had outdid themselves with the careful carvings on every visible surface, the elbarotate veins of gold inlaid on the columns and arches. 

Despite the cool midnight breeze of the Devildom, a welcome relief from the scorching sun of the Mediterranean, Solomon felt his skin burn hot on the back of his hands, at the nape of his neck. Anticipation gnawed at his ankles, rendered his knuckles stiff and tight. 

Did he knock? Did he summon Barbatos and…

The lacquered wooden door swung open, the Demon Prince’s newly appointed steward waiting in the doorway. Solomon offered him a cheery smile. Barbatos simply spun on his heel and marched into the building without a word, leaving Solomon to assume that his presence was welcome before the young lord. 

His steps clapping through the ornate hall, all obsidian pillars leading to what had to be some sort of gathering chamber, Solomon rehearsed his greeting to the esteemed Demon Prince. The nerves that pricked his veins were uncommon, Solomon long-versed in meeting with various beings of note, reputation and power. He had shared demonus with the Demon King, had helped slay vampires on the shores of Mesopotamia, had walked through Cocytus to return to the human world. He was the guardian of the Fountain of Knowledge, the Witty Sorcerer! 

And yet, his kneecaps rattled the closer he got to facing the demon who had–someway, somehow–convinced Barbatos to pledge his allegiance. Such a feat spoke of a powerful authority the likes Solomon wasn’t sure he had ever experienced. 

The door at the end of the hall had been left ajar. The sliver of firelight seeping from the room beyond, casting dancing lights upon the ground, was the only invite Solomon supposed he was going to get from Barbatos. Why his old friend was so upset with him, he wasn’t sure, but he figured it would pass eventually. 

Sure enough, he found Barbatos inside the large chamber, steeping tea by a roaring fireplace. A fresh loaf of his signature bread sat on a stone slab by two horns of demonus, and Solomon’s stomach gurgled in anticipation. He was hungrier than he thought, for the noise received a rather judgemental glare from the new Royal Butler. 

Partially in an attempt to avoid the passive ire, Solomon glanced past Barbatos’s busy hands, his attention drawn towards the two large chairs in the center of the room. Ah, he had been correct to assume that he was being summoned to the throne room. 

“Welcome, Solomon.” A large figure stood upon the dias, muscular arms outstretched as if to remind Solomon that he was impeding on the demons’ territory, that this room belonged to the young lord. If it was meant to be a threat, it was extremely successful, for the strength and power emanating from the demon before him was unrefined and wild. Dangerous, even. 

Fangs glinting in the firelight, Diavolo smirked, “Or should I call you The Witty Sorcerer?” 

Solomon wasn’t sure he had ever felt so small. Squaring his shoulders as subtly as possible, Solomon met the Prince of the Devildom’s piercing gold stare. Never once breaking eye contact, he bowed, insisting, “There is no need for formalities. It is an honor to be in your presence, Prince Diavolo. Barbatos has spoken–”

“I was under the impression that he hasn’t spoken to you recently at all,” Diavolo cut him off, his eyebrow lifted towards his hair, as bold as blood oozing around heavy horns decorated in gold. 

“Ah, well…” Solomon cleared his throat, the tremble of his fingers threatening to disrupt his confident facade. “It is true that our relationship has been strained as of late.”

He could hear the slither of Barbatos’s tail lashing from the other side of the room. 

“Indeed,” Diavolo cocked his head, and tapped long, black nails on the bare skin of his bicep as he crossed his arms over his chest. His aura demanded respect, exuding a heavy anticipation that had Solomon on the tips of his toes. The demon prince stepped from the dias, his size even more intimidating in close proximity. “Tell me, Solomon. I require the truth. Please, answer me this…”

“Is it true that you built a wooden boat and filled it with two of each animal?”

Just like that, the demon before him lit up like a child gifted a new toy. Clutching his hands to his chest, Diavolo looked at Solomon with stars in his eyes, gold depths glittering like the sun reflected on the sea. He rocked back and forth from his heels to the balls of his feet, any sort of composed image that he had been trying to maintain shattered by the excessive enthusiasm pulling at his lips. “One male, and one female, right? To survive the Great Flood!”

Solomon blinked, glanced at Barbatos for any sort of guidance. All he received in response was a squinted glare, adding further pressure to the situation. 

He settled for grimacing, “That was said to be Ziusudra.”

“Though, the grapevine refers to a man with silver hair,” Diavolo winked.

Solomon’s brain was lagging, struggling to comprehend that the oh, so scary future king of the demons just winked at him. It was quite the contrast to Diavolo’s mouth, which moved a mile a minute, launching question after question towards his guest. At some point, he had marched over to the table by the fire, had plopped down on a stool and beckoned for Solomon to join him in between inquiries on the available materials for such a large boat, to the best way to clean up after living with so many creatures.

Dazed, Solomon took a seat, chancing a glance at Barbatos. The butler’s face was stonier than the very slab at which they sat. 

Next thing he knew, a horn of demonus was thrust into Solomon’s hand, Diavolo beaming at him with such sincerity, it managed to snuff out any lingering fear. “So, which animals were the hardest to wrangle? Do you have dragons? I would imagine they’d put up quite the fight.”

“Ah, no, we don’t have dragons,” Solomon frowned, though the way Diavolo deflated had him adding, “But the hippopotamuses were surprisingly violent. I nearly lost my arm to that old girl.” 

“Oh?” The prince’s enthusiasm returned tenfold, “Is it that easy for a human to lose an arm?”

For the next hour, Solomon sipped at his demonus, savoring the taste in between bites of fresh bread and answers to Diavolo’s endless barrage of questions. The initial threat that Solomon had felt upon entering the room melted into an easy atmosphere of laughter and genuine curiosity. There was something about the way that Diavolo yearned to understand humans that spoke to Solomon. It humanized the demon in a way that he hadn’t expected, the deep loneliness that shined through the desperation to connect a feeling that Solomon knew far too well. 

By the time their meeting had come to a close, Solomon’s confidence had found itself once more. He was sure he had made a powerful ally that he could work with to ensure future protection of the human world.  

“Do you have any questions for me?” Diavolo lowered his horn of demonus, golden eyes peering curiously into Solomon’s soul. Perhaps there was the briefest flash of guilt across his face, though Solomon felt it unwarranted. “Surely there must be knowledge of the Devildom not yet privy to you through the Fountain of Knowledge.”

And Solomon was certain there was, though it pained him to admit that the young prince could not give him what he sought. Quick on his feet, he thought up an alternative. “Hmmm, perhaps not the question you seek, but a question nonetheless.”

He brandished a scroll from thin air, summoned with magic from his home in Babylon. The long roll of papyrus nearly nudged his feet, the list plenty long and only growing. With a grin, Solomon pointed to Diavolo’s name, shining in bolded ink towards the top. “Could I interest you in a pact?” 

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

I think it's safe to assume that the Demon Lord's castle has had facelifts throughout the years. Also did you know the first version of the Great Flood is actually in the Sumerian Eridu Genesis?

OBEY ME! MONTH MASTERLIST

HUGE THANKS TO @shootingstarrfish FOR THE ART FOR THIS <3 <3 <3

[saturniasxenos]

FIRE NPT PACK!!

Down below, you'll find firey pronouns, burning hot titles, ignited names, and all the alike fire/flame/lava genders!

Enjoy my firey loves! ❤

Pronouns:

Ar/Arso/Arson/Arsons/Arsonself

Ab/Abla/Ablaze/Ablazes/Ablazeself

Ar/Ardo/Ardor/Ardors/Ardorself

Ca/Cand/Candle/Candles/Candleself

Fer/Ferv/Fervor/Fervors/Fervorself

Fi/Fir/Fire/Fires/Fireself

Fir/Firestro/Firestorm/Firestorms/Firestormself

Fir/Firebo/Firebolt/Firebolts/Fireboltself

Fir/Firebu/Firebug/Firebugs/Firebugself

Fir/Firebo/Firebomb/Firebombs/Firebombself

Fir/Fireshi/Fireshine/Fireshines/Fireshineself

Fir/Firestri/Firestriker/Firestrikers/Firestrikerself

Fir/Fireba/Fireball/Fireballs/Fireballself

Fir/Firewo/Firewood/Firewoods/Firewoodself

Fir/Firepro/Fireproof/Fireproofs/Fireproofself

Fir/Firecra/Firecracker/Firecrackers/Firecrackerself

Fir/Firebre/Firebreak/Firebreaks/Firebreakself

Fir/Firef/Firefly/Fireflys/Fireflyself

Fir/Fireli/Firelight/Firelights/Firelightself

Fir/Firewa/Firewalker/Firewalkers/Firewalkerself

Fie/Fier/Fiery/Fierys/Fieryself

Fla/Flam/Flame/Flames/Flameself

Flame/Flamethro/Flamethrower/Flamethrowers/Flamethrowerself

Flame/Flamma/Flammable/Flammables/Flammableself

Fla/Flar/Flare/Flares/Flareself

Fur/Furna/Furnace/Furnaces/Furnaceself

Kin/Kind/Kindle/Kindles/Kindleself

La/Lav/Lava/Lavas/Lavaself

Ma/Mag/Magma/Magmas/Magmaself

Vol/Volca/Volcano/Volcanos/Volcanoself

He/Hea/Heat/Heats/Heatself

Hell/Hellfie/Hellfire/Hellfires/Hellfireself

Hot/Hotco/Hotcoal/Hotcoals/Hotcoalself

Spa/Spar/Spark/Sparks/Sparkself

Bu/Bur/Burn/Burns/Burnself

Bla/Blaz/Blaze/Blazes/Blazeself

Bla/Blas/Blast/Blasts/Blastself

Bo/Bonfi/Bonfire/Bonfires/Bonfireself

Ig/Igni/Ignite/Ignites/Igniteself

In/Infer/Inferno/Infernos/Infernoself

In/Infer/Infernal/Infernals/Infernalself

Incin/Inciner/Incinerate/Incinerates/Incinerateself

Obi/Obsid/Obsidian/Obsidians/Obsidianself

Oxy/Oxyge/Oxygen/Oxygens/Oxygenself

War/Warm/Warmth/Warmths/Warmthself

Wild/Wildfir/Wildfire/Wildfires/Wildfireself

Wood/Woodfir/Woodfire/Woodfires/Woofireself

Sco/Scor/Scorch/Scorchs/Scorchself

Ser/Sera/Seraphim/Seraphims/Seraphimself

So/Soo/Soot/Soots/Sootself

Smo/Smok/Smoke/Smokes/Smokeself

Smo/Smoul/Smoulder/Smoulders/Smoulderself

Py/Pyr/Pyro/Pyros/Pyroself

Py/Pyr/Pyre/Pyres/Pyreself

Phoe/Phoen/Phoenix/Phoenixs/Phoenixself

To/Tor/Torch/Torchs/Torchself

Com/Combust/Combustion/Combusts/Combustionself

Ca/Campfi/Campfire/Campfires/Campfireself

Co/Coa/Coal/Coals/Coalself

Char/Charco/Charcoal/Charcoals/Charcoalself

Cre/Crem/Cremate/Cremates/Cremateself

🔥/🔥's

💥/💥's

🐦‍🔥/🐦‍🔥's

❤️‍🔥/❤️‍🔥's

☄️/☄️'s

🌋/🌋's

🏜/🏜's

🕯/🕯's

☀/☀'s

🌟/🌟's

⭐/⭐'s

Titles:

(X) Who Burns

The Pyromaniac

The Phoenix

Risen From The Ashes

Born From The Flames

Born From Hellfire

Dancing In The Flames

The Firestorm

The Incinerated

(X) Who Commits Arson

The Fire Dancer

The Lava Dancer

The Volcano Guardian

Guardian of The Flames

The Flame-Winged

(X) Who Will Never Burn

Names:

Fem: Aine, Adara, Alinta, Anala, Apollonia, Aguya, Arpina, Brenda, Bedelia, Caldia, Cyra, Cemre, Cinder, Enya, Fiamma, Fiametta, Helene, Homura, Hinata, Hinoka, Helia, Hestia, Kenina, Kaede, Kyra, Keahi, Kamala, Kalinda, Kenna, Mirri, Mehri, McKenna, Narine, Noora, Pele, Pyraxia, Pyrena, Piret, Oriane, Seraphina, Starfire, Savita, Sunniva, Solana, Tana, Tinna, Vesta, Zinara,

Masc: Afi, Aodh, Ashbel, Apollo, Anatole, Aarush, Aidan, Aiden, Blaze, Blayze, Blaise, Brando, Brantley, Branton, Brent, Brenton, Conleth, Conley, Cole, Cyrus, Egan, Eilidh, Elio, Finlo, Fintan, Fuji, Flint, Haco, Hagan, Hakan, Hayden, Heilos, Heulfryn, Horus, Hugh, Hugo, Ignacio, Ignatius, Inigo, Ishaan, Kai, Kindle, Kaen, Kenneth, Keegan, Kiran, Kwasi, McCoy, Pyrrhus, Ra, Rhys, Sampson, Tyson, Vulcan,

Neu: Ardere, Aizel, Adan, Akosua, Ashfall, Aithne, Agni, Adish, Azar, Ash, Baskara, Brigid, Cymbeline, Ember, Eldis, Edan, Ignus, Iskra, Liekki, Mashal, Nuri, Pheonix, Pyro, Pyre, Surya, Sulien, Solaris, Sol, Seraph, Seraphin, Sol, Soleil, Sunfire, Tanwen, Uri, Ugnè, Xipil,

Genders:

Lavanatomic - A gender under the anatomic system(link), related to lava, anatomy, the "anatomy" of lava and molten rock, the anatomy of something or someone being made up of lava, having anatomy made of lava and so on.

Firegender - Firegender is a xenogender identity in which one's gender is in a constant state of change but never truly extinguishes. It is aesthetically linked to fire as a visual metaphor or symbol.

Fiergender - Fiergender [fier coming from the word 'fiery'] is a gender related to the colours red and orange, fire, foxes, anger, and heat. This gender may feel hot, angry/annoyed, and fiery.

Infernvambatic - A gender identity related to fire and vampire bats; vampire bats that are on fire; vampire bats with fire magic; the emoji combo 🔥🦇🔥; etc...

Burninglogic - .+ a gender related to the log/wood emoji (🪵), and the fire emoji (🔥) in some way. could be the emojis on their own, the smell of campires/burning wood, the aesthetic of wood and fire, etc.

CandLitScentic - A scentic gender related to the aroma of lit candles, scented or not, the smell of a burning wick and melting wax is heavily tied to one's gender.

Firedeity - a gender connected to fire and deities, a deity associated with fire, or a deity of fire.

Ragefiric - a gender relating to raging fires, of course! one may also connect with fiery tempers or things getting burnt

Sunfiregender - a gender related to the sun and fire somehow! could be about how the sun is sometimes called a ball of fire, could be related to setting fires with sunlight, just suns and fires separately, whatever! 

Volcanogender/Lavagender/Magmagender - A gender that is dormant most of the time but sometimes erupts with extreme heat and intensity, similar to how volcanoes erupt. It can be used by itself or combined with other terms, e.g. volcanoboy, volcanogirl, volcanononbinary, etc.

Pyrapanthic - A combination of pyrogender and catgender, in which your gender is connected to big cats, fire, and the way that both are violent/aggressive in nature but aren't "bad" for being that way, they just are.

Lavagender - For a few days it’ll be a stable gender, nice and consistent. But after a while it turns into something completely different. And then that something will change into another thing that’s completely different after a few days time again.

PyromaniEnigmatic - an -enigmatic gender that relates to ones pyromania, being hard to fully understand and deal with, smoke and flames from the urges of pyromania obscuring clear vision and understanding of ones gender and ones pyromania being so deeply tied to ones gender that t becomes hard to understand it from any other angle but by the light of a burning flame.

Pyrofluid - A gender defined by a strong fire aesthetic, like pyrogender, but in this case a person can change between feeling “warm” and feeling “cold” about their gender. A pyrogender person always "feels warm" about the gender, it may just dwindle but never extinguish. Pyrofluid people can “feel cold”, and when that happens it doesn’t necessarily mean that they’ll be agender or on the agender spectrum. It may just mean that they end up feeling apathetic about their gender, not wanting to think about it.

[katieaki]

My ✨ post-apocalyptic Lesbian Cowgirl Mailman choose-your-own adventure✨ has just updated! Read it here for free on my Patreon and vote in the poll! There is a summary of the first part, here, and the second part, here. They have everything you need to know about Lou, her requited-but-complicated love, the religious assassin who just beat the tar out of her, the worst person she's ever met, and the ill-advised journey she is on! There is also now a discord where Pony Express readers from all across god's green internet can gather, here!

Ladies, ladies please, maybe we'll all just feel a little better after a good night's rest! No? We're gonna spitefully encourage one another to make blood offerings and accuse each other of looking at the other's boobs in the locker room? What are you, gay or something?? Okay. That's fine too.

Read it for free on my patreon! Excerpt below the cut.

(Holliday headshot (signed)) and two outfits from this update: Skylark (hungover) and Lou (cozy)

“Look here, they can’t kill you,” Lou said, ignoring Skylark’s obvious attempt to shift Lou’s focus to her instead. 

“It’s church shit, Lou,” Artie said through sobs, her back still turned. “Go to sleep.”

“Just for this?” Lou said, lifting her hurt arm up. “It’s just my arm. Just one arm on one random mail girl. I’m fine. They can’t fucking kill you just for beating me up.”

Artie laughed and turned to face her. Her nose and lips were puffy from crying. “They can do whatever they want, Lou! They’re our god!” Artie said. Lou had been on the other end of an attack by her, and while that had made her afraid for her life, Artie hadn’t seemed at all uncontrolled then. This was different. She was agitated, frantic. Instead of the pinpoint focus Lou was used to from her there was the sensation that she was rapidly losing her grip on a tightly bottled frenzy. She kicked over the other tin cup of pine-sol as she gestured emphatically. Skylark winced at the sound. “I swore my life to them, it’s theirs. And I hurt you. You weren’t even involved and I hurt you for no reason. Bad. It’s their duty to give me the punishment I deserve. If they don’t teach us, then no one will learn.”

“But they–”

“They what?” Artie asked, throwing her arms out in the night air. She was still crying, but her nostrils were flared in anger, too. “You’re gonna tell Johnny Knives what they can and can’t do to their disciples?”

Lou set her jaw. “If I have to,” she said. She didn’t know where this conviction had come from all of a sudden, but she felt it. This is why she always got herself into trouble. She was always, always ready to talk big and sometimes people made you back it up.

Artie laughed again, hard enough that she seemed to stop crying. “Alright,” she said. “Go for it, cowgirl. I’m sure it’ll go exactly as you’re expecting. You can borrow my knife to cut your palm.”

“I have my own knife,” Lou said. “Y’all didn’t invent knives.”

“Great. Go ahead then. Get on your knees. Pray. Let’s see you spill some of that beautiful, clean ath-a-lete’s blood,” Artie said. She beckoned Lou and the recent scab across her own palm was cast into sharp relief by the firelight.

“Liked it so much last time that you want another look, huh?” Lou said.

[dark-dracari]

Chapter 2: The Test

Quest stands before the queen of Ilsonath and she evaluates him to see if he's capable of satisfying her and the position she wants him to fill.

Tags: Fantasy biology, master/slave dynamic, dubcon, edging, orgasm delay, sex toys, size difference, overstim, multiple orgasms, vibrator, mild humiliation

The room was brightly lit by a mix of torches and braziers and suspended crystals that reflected the light across the room. White curtains fell across the far walls while the wall to the right was made entirely of glass. Quest was right in that they were high up, he could see all the way to the desert. Beside the glass was a table set with two chairs.

To the left was a bed, and on it reclined a dragon.

Even when in a vaguely humanoid shape she was huge, probably twice Quest's height when standing, and though she was called the 'golden' dragon, her scales reflected so many more colors than that. Warm copper started at her shoulders where it smoothed into a rich gold. The scales on her body were mostly black while those closer to her chest were ivory, and flecks of dark silver layered over everything.

She had two heads, both covered in a mane of fur that glinted pale gold in the firelight. Two pairs of golden eyes peered down over the edge of a book, and when she noticed her guests, she set the tome aside. "This is the last one?" she asked.

"He's the one," Dizarous agreed, cheerful as ever.

Unsure of what to do, Quest bowed and prayed he didn't look up to see his fiery death engulf him.

"An obedient one, hm?" the golden dragon said, sounding amused. She shifted to the edge of the bed and stood, and Quest didn't dare look up.

"He didn't give me any trouble." Dizarous shrugged and took a step back toward the door. "I'll come get him in an hour, yeah?"

The dragon hummed thoughtfully. "No, if he's the last one, I'd like to savor this. You can collect him in the morning."

"He's pretty sturdy, so I imagine he can handle it." Dizarous gave Quest a pat on the head. "Have fun, Sol!"

Quest swallowed hard and stared at the floor. Maybe death was the kinder fate for him after all.

The dragon stepped closer. "Raise your head, tiny thing," she said. "I would like to look at you properly."

Quest swallowed hard. He slowly straightened up, lifted his chin until he could see her face, er, faces.

She was so tall. Quest was half her height, but just barely, his eyes level with the pale scales that gleamed across her belly. Her claws were long and hooked and could gut him in an instant. Both heads leaned around, peering down at him. He thought he saw the ghost of a smile on one of her mouths, but he might have imagined it.

"Just choose one to address," The dragon said. "It makes things easier on both of us." She gestured for him to follow her to what looked like a table set in the corner on the other side of the bed. An ornate lounge curved in a half-circle around it.

Quest approached hesitantly, unsure of what he was supposed to be doing but still feeling like he was doing it wrong.

"Up," the dragon commanded, and to Quest's surprise, she gestured at the table.

Still unsure of exactly what he was doing, he obeyed. Standing there, he was almost at eye level with her, and the thought was terrifying. His heart was pounding so hard he was sure she could hear it, and he didn't miss the way she smiled, revealing teeth as long as knives.

She looked at him in the same way a cat eyed a mouse, and he'd never felt more like prey than in that moment.

"Do you know me?" she asked.

"Y-yes, your majesty," Quest all but squeaked. He tried to bow again, but she stopped him.

The dragon, Solaris, cupped her hand and tilted Quest's head so he couldn't look away from her. She was gentle, but he was far too aware of the massive claws that curled just inches away from his skin.

She leaned in close, until their noses were almost touching, and Quest was sure she could hear the blood pumping in his veins, or hear his heart hammering away behind his ribs. She could tear him apart. She was the one who was going to decide whether he lived or died. He had never been more terrified of a dragon before in his entire life.

Solaris ran her thumb over his cheek, smiling just enough to reveal a sliver of the sharp white teeth inside. "Say my name, little thing."

"I know you as the Desolate Sun," Quest shakily said. "The one who came up out of the wastelands, the queen of Ilsonath, queen Solaris."

Two sets of eyes narrowed, and Quest held his breath.

Then the dragon started laughing, both heads making the same deep cackle that was nearly deafening at such close proximity. "Such titles!" she exclaimed as if he'd told the best joke she'd heard all week. Then her laughter calmed and both heads grinned down at him with a new and terrifying light in their eyes. "Are you truly so afraid of me?"

"Yes, your majesty," Quest replied, his voice cracking.

"Good," Solaris said and then took a step back. "I claim all the titles you recited and more, but while you are in my service, you will call me 'master'. Do you understand?"

He did, and though it was technically blasphemous, Quest thought the title fit. "Yes, master."

Looking satisfied, Solaris began to slowly circle the table, observing him from all angles. He felt like he was on display, like he was a desert the server brought out for her to consider.

"What are you called?"

"My name is Quest, master."

Solaris hummed thoughtfully and circled him one more time before stepping away. "You are allowed to speak freely unless I order otherwise," she continued and opened a set of cupboards above the lounge. She withdrew a glass bottle and set it on the table. "I don't mind talk, but understand your place."

That was surprising. "May I ask questions?" Quest tentatively asked.

A sinister grin tugged at the dragon's mouth. "You can ask."

"What... am I here for?"

"That is the eternal question, isn't it?" Solaris mused. "Take off your clothes, little thing. Let me see what I have to work with."

It was a command, not a request, and Quest knew better than to argue. After months of slavery, it's not like he had much modesty or pride left anyway.

All to aware that she was waiting on him, he quickly shed his shirt and pants. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest as he straightened up and tried not to look too terrified. Modesty aside, it was still intimidating to stand naked on a table while the queen of Ilsonath studied and appraised every inch of him.

At the very least, Solaris seemed pleased by what she saw. One head maintained his gaze, golden eyes boring into his and daring him to look away while the other leaned closer to better look over his body.

"You seem to be recovering well from your time in the desert," she remarked. "I presume that you've been comfortable while staying here at the Vantage?"

Quest nodded. "Yes, master, I am most grateful for your hospitality."

Solaris snorted. "Such manners," she said, amused. Apparently done with her examination, she stepped back and grasped the bottle again, pouring its contents into the glass and then handing it to him. "Drink."

Quest decided not to risk questioning it.

The sweet nectar that filled the cup burned a path down his throat and warmed his stomach. It tasted of something familiar, something he recognized, but couldn't name.

A pleased smile spread across Solaris's face. "Show me," she said. "Lie back and hold yourself open." She leaned further on the table, watching, studying. "And don't cum without my permission."

Too fuzzy headed to consider arguing, Quest did as she said. He couldn't believe what was happening, and he was getting more sensitive, gasping softly as he touched his slit and then pulled the lips back so Solaris could see inside.

"You have a nice cock," she told him, gently running the pad of her finger along the underside.

Even that little bit of contact had Quest gasping. He closed his eyes as she ran her fingers along his shaft. "Please..." he whimpered, but he was ignored.

"And what a pretty pink hole," Solaris mused, and briefly stroked along the outer lip. "Have you ever been penetrated here?"

"Yes, master," Quest replied and squeezed his eyes shut tight, trying not to think of the last time he'd gotten fucked. The slavers had not been particularly gentle.

"I see." One head tilted, looking thoughtful. "You do not seem to relish the memory. I suppose there is no need to ask what happened to you."

Quest really didn't know how to respond to that, though, to his horror, his body was reacting in a very specific way, slick arousal pooling in his slit and dripping down to his ass as he held himself open.

Being as close as she was, there was no way Solaris didn't notice.

"You poor abused and frightened thing," she said and leaned back a bit. "You are free to leave, if you wish."

Wait, what?

Quest blinked in confusion. "Master...?" he tentatively asked.

"If you wish, you are free to leave," Solaris repeated. "I will not keep you if you do not want to continue."

The implication made his head spin. He could just... go? She would let him? No, that had to be a lie. She was testing him, right? He'd be caught and punished the moment he stepped off the table.

His insides twitched and clenched down on nothing as he considered what she had planned for him. Really, it was probably safer to just let her do it.

"I'll stay with you, master," Quest told her.

This seemed to please her, and both heads grinned down at him as they leaned closer. "Good boy," one purred while the other nudged its snout between his legs and plunged its tongue deep into his aching cunt.

Quest arched off the table and cried out the moment Solaris speared him open on her tongue. He struggled not to move, letting go of his slit to dig his nails into his thighs as he fought the urge to buck his hips and take her deeper. Her tongue was bigger than any cock he'd taken before, but all he felt was pleasure as the thick muscle spread him open, tasting and teasing. He could feel it coiling deep inside him, rubbing up against his walls and filling every available bit of space, while her teeth scraped lightly over the skin of his hips.

His entire body writhed with the sensation and Solaris pushed harder, using her nose to pin him to the table as she continued to work him open. Her tongue made obscenely wet sucking sounds as it fucked into him and Quest all but sobbed as she touched places inside him that made his eyes roll back and tore strangled noises of pleasure from his throat.

He was losing his mind as the tension and pressure inside him wound tighter until he was on the edge of release. Solaris might kill him for coming without permission, but at that point, he didn't care; he'd never felt so good in his life.

And then Solaris pulled away from him and Quest sobbed as his cunt spasmed and throbbed around nothing. The emptiness was awful, and his hips writhed and bucked in a desperate attempt to get her to fill him again.

"Hush, tiny thing." Solaris lapped at the inside of his thighs in a surprisingly soothing gesture as Quest whimpered and gasped for breath. "My, you're so responsive. Did that feel good? Are you beginning to enjoy yourself?"

Quest didn't have to think about it this time. "Please, master..." He felt half delirious, his need for release momentarily overriding his fear. "I'll do anything you want. Please, please let me cum."

"Anything, you say?" Solaris purred. "Oh, how tempting that is. You're such a delicious little thing." She licked over his slit one more time before pulling away again. "I'd eat you out for hours, but if I did, I'm afraid I might devour you for real."

Quest whined. The idea should have horrified him, but in that moment he almost wanted to let her, wanted to feel what that would be like. No matter how horrible it would be, it would be worth it if she let him come on that incredible tongue.

"Ah, but you seem so desperate." Solaris pressed her thumbs to his slit and spread him open, revealing just how pink and wet he'd gotten in her absence. "Your poor little hole looks so empty that it's crying. I'm ready for this to end yet, but I can't bear the idea of you being so distressed." Quest highly doubted that, but he didn't protest if she might actually touch him again. "I'll let you hold something nice, and if you're good, I'll let you come on it."

Solaris let him lie there and pant while she retrieved something from a chest tucked beneath the lounge. She concealed the item in her hand, so Quest couldn't tell what it was until he felt something cool and round nudging against his entrance.

The object pushed slowly inside, and Quest whimpered as it stretched him. It was big, but not big enough to be uncomfortable, and he was so wet that it went in with very little resistance. He choked out a moan, hips rolling as the thing settled, and his inner walls clenched down on it, relishing the sensation of being filled.

"Oh, you must be more pent-up than I'd realized," Solaris remarked. "Your hole must have been starving to swallow that so quickly, and it seems to be enjoying its meal. Does it feel good, little thing? To finally have something for your dripping cunt to suck on?"

She had a way with words, Quest decided. Her choice in vocabulary should have disturbed him, but in his current state, it only made his slit clench and his cock pulse with need. "Yes, master, thank you," he gasped as he writhed, unable to stop himself from arching up. It was enough to have him teetering on the edge, and it would take nothing more than a touch or a single thrust for him to tip over into release. His body felt so hot, and his hips rolled again, desperate to get even more of that wonderful thing into him, but Solaris held him still.

"Now, now," she chided, her tone still teasing, but she punctuated her words with the threat of her clawtips against his skin. "You're doing so well that I'd hate to stop and punish you. You do remember the one rule I gave you, yes?"

Quest could barely think. The toy felt good, and his mind was clouded with lust. It would be so easy to slip his hand down, rub at the base of his cock, or thrust the toy just a little bit more.

"Y-yes..." he breathed.

"Say it back to me."

"I-I will not cum without permission," Quest echoed.

"Good boy." Solaris gently stroked his cheek with a claw. "You learn quickly, which is a trait that I appreciate. Now, take a moment to collect yourself, and then we can continue."

That was easier said than done. Between the feeling of her tongue and the toy, he was near painfully worked up. It would be far too easy to get himself over the edge, the consequences be damned. He couldn't remember the time he'd been able to get off, and he was certain he'd never climaxed as hard as this one would be. Even if she killed him on the spot, it would probably be worth it.

And yet...

He couldn't explain why, but it felt nice to be told he was being good. Maybe he was just high on endorphins, but the idea of him doing well for her pleased him. He'd been forcibly penetrated before, and had orgasmed that way, but this was entirely different. Sure, he was being ordered to do it, but it felt good and her comments felt more teasing than demeaning.

All things considered, it was actually kind of nice.

As Solaris sat back on the lounge, Quest stared at the ceiling and took deep breaths in an attempt to calm down. He forced himself to relax and stop trying to get off on the object lodged in his cunt. The disappointment nearly made him cry, but he let the thing settle inside of him and slowly backed away from the edge. His cock still throbbed and ached, precum dripping steadily from the tip, but after a few moments, he no longer felt like he was going to explode.

"Good boy," Solaris crooned and stroked the backs of her claws over his belly. "That was lovely to watch. You're quite captivating in the throes of pleasure. I'm sure your actual climax will be breathtaking."

The praise brought a warm feeling to his chest, and Quest wasn't sure what to say to it. His mouth and throat felt dry and he swallowed, still trying to catch his breath.

Meanwhile, Solaris got back to her feet and retrieved another glass, this time filling it from a pitcher that sat beside the bed. She offered it to him, but didn't order him to take it.

Quest accepted it anyway and took a tentative sip. It turned out to be plain water, and he quickly drained the glass. He hadn't realized he'd been so dehydrated.

"Good," Solaris said again and took the glass back. She cupped his face with her other hand, thumb brushing his lips. "Open."

Quest obediently opened his mouth and she pressed her thumb inside. She traced the points of his teeth and rubbed over his tongue in a way that felt a lot nicer than Quest would have thought.

His eyes closed and he whined softly as she slid her thumb deeper.

"Oh, you sweet little thing," Solaris said, sounding amused. "Are you enjoying this?"

Quest whined with a little more purpose. He couldn't explain why, but he was, and he really wanted her to continue.

However, she soon drew her hand away from him again. "You still look desperate," Solaris told him. "How about this: I will give your mouth something a bit bigger to suck on. If you do well enough, I'll show you what the toy you're holding can really do." She brushed her thumb over his snout. "Do you agree?"

"Yes, master." The words came out a bit breathless as Quest took in the implication behind her offer. He'd never liked using his mouth that way, but his body was still burning. He could endure it if it meant he'd be allowed to finally come.

"On your knees, then."

It took a few attempts for Quest to obey. The first time he rolled over, the toy pressed against his entrance in a way that had him panting hard. His cunt clenched down on it, trying to get some relief before he could force himself to stop. When he regained control, he gingerly raised himself into a kneeling position.

Looking satisfied with the obedience, Solar slowly got to her feet. Her long member strained from between her legs, the tapered head writhing in its neglect. She reached down to stroke herself a few times before directing her attention back to Quest. "Let's see how that pretty mouth of yours handles a cock."

Her voice sounded rougher than before, and Quest couldn't help the little flutter of pleasure he got when he saw the evidence of her arousal. She hadn't just been teasing him.

Quest swallowed hard as she leaned forward, letting the shaft rub against his cheek. Her skin was hot and slick, and the heady musk of her arousal made his head spin. He was surprised at how clean she smelled, the scent strong but earthy and primal in a way he couldn't describe.

"Go ahead, little thing," Solaris said, drawing back until the twitching head brushed his lips. "Take only what you can, but be aware that if I feel your teeth, I'll rip them from your mouth."

The threat was a familiar one, and Quest felt a flutter of unease. His stomach twisted as he squeezed his eyes shut and opened his mouth and prayed he didn't choke too hard.

But she entered him slowly, resting the tapered head on his tongue before gently gliding it back and forth. "Do you know how?" Solaris asked him.

Not really. The few times the slavers used his mouth, they pried his jaws open, held him down and fucked his throat until he nearly blacked out.

"I'm sure you've touched your own before," Solaris said, sounding amused. "Use your hands on what you can't take into your mouth. That's it," she purred when Quest did as he was told. "Good. Move your tongue as well. You're getting the idea."

His lack of experience made him nervous, but there was something strangely arousing about how she coached him, and Quest tried his best to please her. The taste and smell of her pre filled his senses and almost made him dizzy, but it was a lot more pleasant than most, and he found that he didn't really mind. He let himself relax a bit as he stroked and sucked, moving his tongue along the thick veins on the underside.

Solaris placed her hand on his head and Quest tried not to panic. Her cock was big enough that it could easily tear his esophagus open if she shoved into him too hard.

"Easy," she told him and stroked his hair until he stopped shaking. "You're doing well," she continued. "You've got a soft mouth and you look lovely while taking my cock. You've made it this far, so you don't need to be afraid. Breathe for me, little thing, and relax. I have no intention of injuring you." She slowly rolled her hips. "I just think you can take me a bit deeper than that."

Perhaps he was truly losing his mind, but Quest thought so too, and he really wanted to try.

It took a few moments as he continued to work, but he slowly took more of her throbbing shaft into his mouth and then down his throat. He nearly choked a few times, but then he figured out a rhythm that let him breath a bit easier, so he pushed harder until his jaws burned.

Above him, Solaris gave a breathy laugh. "Oh, my good little Quest," she groaned, sounding delighted. "You don't have a gag reflex, do you?" She pressed forward, until he was sure she could see herself distending the line of his throat. "I think you might've been born for this," she purred, working her hips just a bit faster.

The change in pace caught him off guard a bit, but Quest quickly adjusted until he could breathe again. She was big enough that taking her that far was uncomfortable, but he felt a strange kind of satisfaction as she claimed the back of his throat that it was almost enjoyable.

"You feel wonderful," Solaris said, her voice growing rougher."I think I'll give you a taste of your reward now."

Quest had just enough time to wonder what she might mean when the object in his cunt started vibrating. It startled him, but he managed not to jump. The vibrations weren't terribly strong, but it still felt good, and Quest found himself moaning the next time Solaris's cock slid down his throat.

"I wasn't expecting you to be such a slut," Solaris said. She was panting, hips beginning to roll against him, forcing herself even deeper. "But oh, your desperate noises sound even nicer when your mouth is full." Her hand returned to petting his head. "Take a deep breath, Quest," she hummed.

Alarmed, Quest did as he was told.

Solaris held him still as her hips rocked a bit faster as she fucked his throat. She pushed in deep and didn't stop when Quest started to choke, his throat bulging from as he tried to swallow around her thick girth.

By then, he should've been completely panicked, but Quest could only feel pleasure as she fucked into him. Her thick shaft plunged in and out of his throat deep enough that he couldn't breathe properly, but not so deep that it truly hurt. He could hear her groaning in pleasure and panting praise as she used him, her hand maintaining its firm but gentle hold on the back of his neck.

Meanwhile, the toy's vibrations only grew stronger.

Quest's eyes were watering, tears streaming down his cheeks and his heart pounded fit to burst. Pleasure pulsed hot and intense between his legs, and arousal ran freely down his thighs to pool on the table below. He would've screamed if he had the breath, hips grinding down even as he choked. His focus narrowed to the feeling of Solar's cock dragging across his tongue and the toy buzzing hard inside him. Really, he was little more than a toy himself, a wet and vibrating hole for Solaris to use for her own pleasure.

"Good boy," Solaris snarled as her cock began to throb against his tongue. "Such a good little slut. You may have your reward. Come for me, little thing."

She released him just as he tipped over the edge and Quest screamed. His body seized with the force of his release and he fell to his side as his back arched out of his control. Pleasure pulsed hard and intense from the toy inside him, and Quest sobbed as he thrashed. It felt so good it almost hurt, waves of pleasure rolling through him, each one stronger than the last. His hips jerked and bucked and his cunt clenched down like it was trying to swallow the toy still ravishing his insides as his cock spurted long lines of his seed across his belly and chest.

And it didn't end. The toy kept vibrating, and just as it felt like his orgasm was beginning to subside, he was thrown into another one. He wound up curling into a ball, shaking as the waves tore through him one after the other. He felt like he was coming apart at the seams, his body contracting and convulsing, drowning in his own ecstasy.

Finally, finally, the vibrations began to weaken. Quest continued to shake and pant, every nerve feeling like a live wire. Everything still felt so incredibly good, but the intensity of it all left him exhausted and aching. His thighs quivered and shook as he struggled to come down and he wasn't able to make any sort of sound beyond soft panting and whimpers.

"Oh, you poor thing," Solaris sighed, kneeling beside him. "I think I overdid it, but you really are breathtaking like this." She stroked his hair and smiled at him. "Rest now. You can just lie there and enjoy this next bit."

Quest wanted to ask her what 'next bit' she was referring to, but all he managed was a small, tired whimper. At that point, he was far too tired to panic, but he felt a bit uneasy when he realized that Solaris had more in store for him.

Solaris eased him onto his stomach and shoved a sturdy pillow under his hips to keep his ass up. He felt the heat of her breath against his skin and then that incredible tongue was on him again, lapping softly at his tight pucker.

There was no way Quest could orgasm again even if he wanted, but the contact still felt oddly nice. He closed his eyes, breathing soft pants into the table. The feeling of the slick and smooth surface of her tongue gliding over his sensitive skin was almost relaxing, and he could feel his rim softening under the attention. It didn't take long for him to loosen enough for her to slip inside of him to gently coax his hole to open further.

"Good boy," one head murmured as the other continued to lick him. "Just relax. You're opening up beautifully. Just a bit more, now."

She drew back and then Quest felt the head of her cock nudge at his stretched and softened rim.

Quest gasped softly as she entered him. She didn't press in too far, stopping before she stretched him to the point of discomfort. Then she went still, and Quest could hear the wet sounds of her stroking herself.

Solaris let out a low, shuddering groan and her hips shuddered with the effort it took not to slam in any deeper. "I'm not used to the sensation being so strong," she remarked, her voice trembling with her own need. "Oh, my little slut, you are incredible. So tight and so warm..."

She didn't push in any deeper, but Quest could feel her hand swiftly working over the rest of her length. She began to shudder as the head of her cock remained nestled just inside of him, throbbing with her pleasure.

Quest moaned when she came inside of him. Her seed was thick and hot and she pumped it into him in hard spurts. It was oddly satisfying, feeling it flood his insides, hearing the sound of her soft snarls of pleasure.

A flood of her seed spilled from Quest's ass when Solaris finally withdrew. She'd stretched him open so far that his ass wouldn't fully close on its own, and he could feel her spend pouring from his hole and dripping onto the table below.

He didn't know what Solaris was doing, but he could hear her move about the room. She didn't say anything or even acknowledge his existence.

So, that was that.

Too spent to care about what his fate might be, Quest closed his eyes and let sleep drag him under.

[revenant-coining]

Sun/fire related names and pronouns maybe?

here ya go !

Names:

Sun:

Sun, Sol, Solar, Flare, and Solis

Fire

Flame, Flare, Spark, Ardeat, Scintilla, Calor, Ardor, Tepor, Flamma, Ignis, Calidum, Calidus, and Fervens.

Pronouns:

Sun:

sun/sun/suns/suns/sunself

sun/set/suns/sets/sunsetself

sun/rise/suns/rises/sunriseself

sunset/sunset/sunsets/sunsets/sunsetself

sunrise/sunrise/sunrises/sunrises/sunriseself

sun/light/suns/lights/sunlightself

sunlight/sunlight/sunlights/sunlights/sunlightself

sol/sol/sols/sols/solself

solar/solar/solars/solars/solarself

solar/flare/solars/flares/solarflareself

☀️/☀️/☀️s/☀️s/☀️self

🌅/🌅/🌅s/🌅s/🌅self

🌄/🌄/🌄s/🌄s/🌄self

🌇/🌇/🌇s/🌇s/🌇self

🔆/🔆/🔆s/🔆s/🔆self

🔅/🔅/🔅s/🔅s/🔅self

☉/☉/☉s/☉s/☉self

☼/☼/☼s/☼s/☼self

Fire

fire/fire/fires/fires/fireself

spark/spark/sparks/sparks/sparkself

burn/burn/burns/burns/burnself

heat/heat/heats/heats/heatself

fire/light/fires/lights/firelightself

firelight/firelight/firelights/firelights/firelightself

flame/flame/flames/flames/flameself

hot/hot/hots/hots/hotself

warmth/warmth/warmths/warmths/warmthself

flare/flare/flares/flares/flareself

🔥/🔥/🔥s/🔥s/🔥self

[serenanymph]

Scales! 🐉

Scales: share a snippet that describes something. (can be a person, a place, a feeling, etc.)

Have an excerpt from sol's past woop woop

They walk. Carrick looks around, tries not to shrink his shoulders in at the soldiers around him, snickering, pointing, whispering. Pretty, that’s one way to describe this place – elegant, sophisticated, polished. Something closer to a palace, closer to how the good guys’ fortress would look. Pretty but hiding the ugliness beneath.

He almost misses the cadet facilities, the stone walls, the monochrome shades. At least they’re honest. At least someone who’s trying to punch his teeth in is upfront about it. Here, he has no idea what to expect at all, and that sets him bristling, sets him on edge.

And then – up another set of stairs, down another corridor, and they’re standing in front of a pair of normal-looking, wooden doors: all dark mahogany and brass knobs. Lisa knocks. “It’s Commander Hawthorne, sir. I’ve brought the Halfling.”

“Enter.”

Lisa opens the door, shoves him forward, and he has no choice but to walk.

It’s an office.

The windows look out onto the courtyard below, covered in white snow tinted sunset orange. Heavy dark purple curtains with gold tassels drape to the floor, and Carrick feels his feet sink into soft, plush carpet. There are bookshelves lining the walls – not just AMA drivel, but history and science and fiction, atlases and dictionaries and a few old texts. In a corner, next to a crackling fireplace, is a low table and a few stuffed sofas, and the lighting is soft and mellow.

Directly in front of him: a work desk, and a man bent over it, looking at a sheaf of papers. He looks up, eyes widening for a moment before softening. He smiles and they crinkle at the edges and he looks – almost kind. The room seems almost cozy and the man doesn’t look at Carrick with hate or disgust or even a faint distaste, and that, more than anything else, throws him.

And then his eyes widen and he stands up abruptly. Carrick flinches, and he walks over –

“Klysmos, look at you! Your lips are still blue, you must be freezing –” The man whirls to Lisa, demands: “What happened? Are you trying to kill him?”

“He landed one of the most promising cadets of this batch in the infirmary for a month,” Lisa says, bristling – but her tone lacks some of its cutting edge, holds some modicum of fear or respect. The firelight glints of the many pins and medals on the man’s coat and, looking it over, Carrick realizes he must rank far higher than her. “And it was the agreed upon punishment. Use of magic and actively assaulting another candidate means the Pit.”

“The Pit,” the man says coldly, “is supposed to help him learn his lesson. It’s to give time for his magic to restabilize so he won’t hurt other candidates. It’s a time for self-reflection. It isn’t supposed to bring him to near-death. What would you have done if a cadet who’s supposed to be under your supervision died?” His tone is cutting and sharp, and Lisa blanches.

beast taglist (lmk if you want to be +/-): @sapphos-scientist, @allianaavelinjackson, @arctic-oceans, @space-writes, @reneesbooks

[glampingfingerlakes]

Exploring the Thrills: Hotels near Watkins Glen International Speedway and Romantic Glamping Experiences Nearby

Introduction: For racing enthusiasts and nature-loving couples alike, the combination of adrenaline-pumping events at Watkins Glen International Speedway and the allure of romantic glamping experiences makes for a perfect getaway. In this blog, we will explore the best hotels near Watkins Glen International Speedway and suggest enchanting glamping sites nearby, providing you with a well-rounded adventure.

Hotels near Watkins Glen International Speedway:

The Watkins Glen Harbor Hotel: This luxurious waterfront hotel offers stunning views of Seneca Lake and is located just a short drive from Watkins Glen International Speedway. With spacious rooms, excellent amenities, and fine dining options, it provides a comfortable and convenient stay for race-goers.

The Seneca Lodge: Nestled in the heart of the Finger Lakes region, the Seneca Lodge is a charming and rustic hotel known for its warm hospitality. Its proximity to the speedway, coupled with cozy accommodations and an on-site restaurant, makes it a popular choice among racing fans.

The Microtel Inn & Suites by Wyndham: If you're seeking a more budget-friendly option, the Microtel Inn & Suites is a great choice. Situated just minutes away from the speedway, this hotel offers clean and comfortable rooms, complimentary breakfast, and friendly service.

Romantic Glamping Experiences Nearby:

Firelight Camps: Located in Ithaca, New York, Firelight Camps offers an enchanting glamping experience amidst nature's splendor. Picture luxurious safari-style tents with plush beds, cozy furnishings, and private balconies. Explore nearby waterfalls, indulge in farm-to-table cuisine, and unwind by the campfire for an unforgettable romantic escape.

Seneca Sol: Situated on the eastern shore of Seneca Lake, Seneca Sol is a captivating glamping destination. Choose from beautiful canvas tents equipped with comfortable bedding, solar-powered lighting, and private fire pits. Immerse yourself in the tranquility of nature, sip local wines, and revel in the breathtaking sunsets with your loved one.

Farm Sanctuary's The Homestead: If you and your partner are animal lovers, The Homestead at Farm Sanctuary is an idyllic glamping retreat. Located in Watkins Glen itself, this unique sanctuary offers cozy accommodations in rustic cabins, opportunities to interact with rescued farm animals, and serene surroundings that foster a deep connection with nature.

Conclusion: Whether you're a racing enthusiast or a couple in search of a romantic escapade, the combination of Watkins Glen International Speedway and nearby glamping experiences promises an incredible adventure. With a range of hotels near the speedway catering to different budgets and preferences, and enchanting glamping sites offering unique and intimate experiences, you're bound to create cherished memories. So buckle up for a thrilling race and unwind in the lap of nature as you embark on an unforgettable journey near Watkins Glen International Speedway.

[arcanetoymakerau]

THIS POST IS COMPLETELY OUTDATED! NEW VERSION IS HERE: [LINK]

Hello! Hello!

Welcome! @mariana-souza speaking here and this is my Arcane AU side blog.

"The Toymaker" how I called, it's a "what if?" alternative universe of Arcane - LoL series I recently started to write, since my Devil May Cry AU: @dmcfsstory is already finished in theory (I just need to write down the chapters of it). Join me during the concepting of this AU here! Since this AU is a work in progress, stuff is subject to change, so, don't take concepts/ideas from old posts as the definitive ones. My friend @beanswithbones helps me with text proofreading + edit (english isn't my first language).

The complete story is being written and it's available on Ao3: [LINK]

The AU starts after Powder and Vi's discussion after Vander's death(end of episode 3, precisely at 36:50).

What if?

Powder ran away scared for her life when she saw Silco, she end up in Topcity and was found by Viktor?

Vi was able to ran from Marcus?

Viktor didn't know Singed?

There was more characters from the og universe in the Arcane universe (on season 1)?

Silco won't have the "chains" of his paternal love for Jinx and have more powerful allies making him a bigger threat to Topcity and his enemies than in cannon.

Read about the most plot-wise active characters here:

[Jinx(soon)] - [Viktor] - [Caitlyn]

[Vi(TBA)] - [Ekko(TBA)] - [Zeri(TBA)]

[Jayce(TBA)] - [Mel(TBA)] - [Camille(TBA)]

[Silco(TBA)] - [Sevika(TBA)] - [Renata(TBA)]

Added characters from og universe in this Arcane AU: Renata, Zeri, Blitzcrank, Camille, Ziggs, Zoe, Twitch, Warwick, Urgot, Aurelion Sol and Kindred(more details about here: [LINK]).

There's a new technology here called ArcTech. Read about here [HERE].

Plot/lore info + FAQ under the cut:

What didn't change: Character's height, age maybe, great part of the character's personality/behavior, world setting, base story of "topcity vs undercity".

Pairings in acts 2, 3 and 4:

*Romantic: Mel and Jayce, Jinx and Zeri, Vi and Caitlyn.* But this story isn't focused on romance.

*Platonic: Viktor and Sky, Viktor and Jayce, Silco and Sevika*

Pairings in act 5: *Romatic: Jinx and Zeri and Ekko, Sevika and Renata.*

Act 1: same as canon, but with that different end; Powder is adopted by Viktor and Vi isn’t captured by Marcus Introduces: Renata.

Act 2: What happened in what would be the timeskip, 10 years passes in this act; Jinx began her reputation as The Toymaker while Viktor is working on Hextech. Jinx and Viktor creates a new technology in secret called ArcTech(Arcane Technology). Meanwhile, Vi and Ekko found the Firelights Group to help those who were still in Vander’s side and also to (try to) hold Silco to start another big conflict with Topcity. Introduces: Zeri, Ziggs, Blitzcrank, Zoe, Twitch, Kindred and Aurelion Sol.

Act 3: “Vi’s rescue” like I called. Vi was captured by Silco, he wants to transform her into a weapon with Singed’s and Renata’s help. The Firelights accept support from the Aquanimas (since Jinx was already looking for her sister) to help rescue Vi: while Caitlyn goes with the Firelights to help find where Vi is and to figure what else Silco is up to, Zeri joins the Academy to gather more engineering knowledge to power up the Firelights’ equipment with Jinx’s help. The discussion of Hextech weapons and prosthetic body parts starts as some big chemtech machines are starting to show up to cause havoc in Topcity. Introduces: Warwick, Camille and Urgot.

Act 4: rework in progress

Note: reminder that this is an AU with working in progress, stuff are subject to change.. and I'm still learning LoL's lore... but this is an AU, so a few incoherences can happen.

Note 2: I don't play LoL, I'm just a lore enthusiast and I got in this fandom through Arcane.

QUICK FAQ:

-Can I do fanart/fic?

Of course! I would love to see it! Just not NSFW(like porn or gore for example) and of course don’t forget to credit it.

-Can I use a concept(s) from The Toymaker? (ex.: ArcTech)

Sure! But as always, give credit, it took me too long to develop them. Plus, if you need help in applying these concepts, contact me, I will be glad to help!

-Can I do a video from your comics or arts in my videos? (ex.: adding voice acting, panels “slide show”, AMVs, etc)

Yes, BUT notify me when you start to work on it. In this case I ask to give credit somewhere in the video and link(s) to the original arts in the description.

-Can I translate your fic and/or comics?

Yes, but let’s talk about first, discuss details like where/how to post, etc.

-Can I edit/trace over/repost your arts?

NOPE.

But if you’re unsure about something, ask me.

[sadcatjae]

The Perfect Tyrant - Part 3 - Cut

Previous parts can be found in the Masterlist

.

Cw: disfiguration, disassociation, blood, violence, imprisonment, noncon touching.

.

Kharis bolts upright with a shuddering gasp. His own visage burns like a ghostly image in his mind as the last of his nightmare sluices away. He’s shaking (can’t stop) and his cheeks are damp with sweat (or is that tears?). There’s an audible whistle in his lungs as he tries to catch his breath, but there’s the dim relief that the worst of the tightness has passed.

“Bad dream?” A wry voice rumbles to his left. Eiran sits beside his bed in a wooden chair, casually whittling a piece of wood with a small knife.

Kharis recalls that Eiran comes from a family of artisan carpenters. When he was young, he’d be quietly jealous of the beautifully crafted things that Eiran would often gift his brother.

But he was used to Sargon getting things that he didn’t. Sargon was the Crown Prince, after all.

The tyrant draws a trembling hand across his forehead, feeling it damp. “Why…why am I here?”

Eiran rocks in his chair, his feet resting on the edge of the bed as he swings off the forelegs then back down again. It’s an irritating habit. “These are your quarters, no? Then it would make sense for us to bring you here.”

“But…” Kharis intakes sharply. He brings his hand to his chest. Clutches at his robes. “You stormed the palace.”

“That we did.” The big man huffs a laugh. A wood shaving goes flying. “It’s just as I remember it. Although, the throne room is a tad ostentatious, don’t you think?”

The tyrant snaps a wide-eyed glare at the rebel. “Where are my servants? My people? What have you done to them?”

“”Don’t pretend to care now,” Eiran drawls, raising a brow at the agitated royal. “But fear not - we will treat your servants with thrice the compassion you ever did.”

“Theodyn?”

“Huh? Oh, that ancient eunuch of yours?”

“If you have touched a single hair on his head–!”

“He’s pottering around somewhere, I’m sure.”

“Locke!”

“June.” Eiran’s chair drops down with a dull thud. His cold glare sends a shiver down Kharis’ spine. Those eyes speak of death. It’s like looking into endless voids that rips the very air from his lungs.

Kharis swallows and raises his chin, an arrogant tilt, a long ingrained habit of the royal.

“You must understand your situation here.” Schiick. The blade flashes in the firelight. The wood shaving flies onto the bed. “You are no longer the Emperor of Eshara. This palace is no longer yours. And the Empire will soon be within our grasp.”

“Who…” Kharis feels numb. He’s detached from his body, like another has taken control of it. “Who sits on my throne?”

Schiick. “The true heir to the throne.”

Kharis narrows his eyes in confusion. “That is I.”

“That is Sol, your eldest brother.”

“Sol?” Kharis brings a hand to his head, feeling it spin. He lets out a derisive laugh, though it comes weak, shaky. “Sol is but a servant.”

Schiick. “He bears the royal name.”

“My father adopted him out of an old fool’s sentiment,” Kharis snaps, shooting a glare at the rebel. “He is not of our blood, thus heir to nothing.”

“Blood is not everything, June. Sol is the eldest son of the Empire, which means he is the rightful heir to the throne.”

Kharis flinches at the name. June. How long has it been since he’s been called anything but his title?

A title that has been wrenched from him. Like how you wrenched it from Sargon? a quiet voice reminds him.

Schiiick.

“June is my mother’s name,” Kharis seethes, white knuckling the sheets. “You will address me as Your Majesty–”

“At most, it will be Your Highness, but considering what a depraved individual you are, I think June is the best we can do.” Eiran chuckles and tucks away his wooden piece. The knife, however, remains in his hand. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stares intently at the royal.

Kharis elongates his spine and stares back, unflinching. Even as the blade taps his cheek.

“You are a prisoner, June,” Eiran husks, a faint smirk tugging at the side of his lips. Arctic blues glitter, like shattered ice afloat at sea. “You have no rights. No freedom. You are at the mercy of our will. I have extended you the courtesy of avoiding the dungeons, only because Sargon loved you. But that is as far as my generousity extends.”

Kharis huffs through his nose, angling his head away from the blade. “You are foolish if you think that the palace is all you need to take the Empire. Your only claim to legitimacy is a servant who is of peasant blood. Think the people would bend the knee to their own kind? You are mad.” He spits the last, a razor sharp smile stretching across his pallid face. “The Empire is mine. She will always be mine. You may as well kill me, for you will never have her for as long as I breathe.”

Eiran’s gaze grows hooded, shadowed. Repulsion ripples across his mien. “I hate that you share his face,” he says, flatly. He tightens his grip on the knife. “I hate that you turn his face into something ugly. Something I can hardly bear to look at.”

Kharis laughs, the sound bordering hysterical. “This face is the only worthy gift Sargon has given me, if it torments you so!”

Eiran freezes. He stares at the hysterical tyrant for an aeon, not moving a single muscle. His expression blank. Thoughts unfathomable. And then, in a sudden blur of motion, he slashes the blade across Kharis’ face–

And the tyrant jerks back with a scream, a searing pain laid waste to his flesh. “AHH–!!!!” He scrabbles and clutches at his face, crying raggedly, blood splattering the sheets red.

“Much better,” Eiran sighs, smiling in satisfaction. He snatches the wounded man by his jaw and jerks his head back. “Move your hands.”

“No…no…don’t touch me–!” Kharis digs his fingers into his skull, convinced that his flesh would fall apart if ever let go. The stench of blood is suffocating. The white hot pain arcing across his mien is unbearable.

A large, impatient hand grabs his wrists in a merciless bind and rips his hands away. Blood trickles anew, dripping steadily from his jaw. His right eye stings red. The left stings with tears.

All he can make out of his captor are those arctic eyes. Those loathsome, hateful arctic eyes.

“I have taken Sargon’s name, his throne, his Empire, away from you. And now I have taken his face.” Eiran’s grip turns crushing around his wrists. Bones crunch, eliciting a strangled cry. He grins, dark features twisted in sick delight. “You know as well as I that you are nothing without him. You have filled in the borders of yourself with his image, his presence. And this is all that’s left. A thing that appears like a man and nothing more.”

Kharis closes his eyes, trying to control the frenzied hammering of his heart. He can’t stop shaking. His throat aches, like there’s molten lava welling from his chest. I must not cry. I must not waver. Not in front of him. Not in front of those eyes. But no matter how desperately he tries to maintain his composure, tears break and spill down his ruined cheeks, mingling with his blood.

The rebel barks a laugh at the pathetic sight of the proud tyrant crying like a babe. He gives Kharis a violent shove, and he goes crashing into the gilded headboard.

“There are guards posted outside your door at all times. Countless more patrolling the grounds outside. They are the men and women whose homes you have destroyed. Their families ripped apart and murdered by your hand. They will not hesitate to kill you if you should attempt to leave. Hell, they may kill you anyway to sate their thirst.” Eiran chuckles and starts for the door. He pauses, glances back at the fallen tyrant. “Enjoy your rest, June. I can assure you that there will be very little of it from hereon.”

The door opens and shuts. A heavy silence falls.

A loud sob bursts from Kharis and he curls up on the bed, pressing his palms against his ruined face. The pain doesn’t bother him anymore. There is far greater agony that he must endure. One that threatens to unravel him, one despairing thought at a time.

This is all that’s left. A thing that appears like a man and nothing more.

.

Part 4

Masterlist

.

[rainyydxyz]

After a few weeks (and 7hrs according to ibispaint) the Firelight's are done !!

So let's go over some things and facts:

-- No, Sol is not adopted. Phoenixes tend to look like their mothers, however Sol got her father's genes.

-- Luc's feathers are black because they're burnt out. When he was a nestling, he ventured out of the nest and got into a water incident that permanently damaged him. He was originally a blue phoenix.

-- Luna, Astrid, and Sol, all have heterochromia, but different kind. Sol has two different colours per eye, her right eye being blue, Luna has single eye heterochromia where a small bit of her left eye has orange, and Astrid has single-eye heterochromia too, however it's in the center of his left eye.

-- Luna, Astrid, and Asteria, are triples, being 8 years older than Sol and Luc, who are twins.

-- Yes, this is a toh fan species that I MAY have built on too much.

Phoenix lore... mmm....... it shall be expanded on...

[bluerasbunny]

Hey!

Tell me about your meanest oc >:3

these two. 100% these two!

phoenix comes across very nice at first, a well respected figure- though, it seems like that respect is built off of fear more than anything else. a sweet talker with skill in social manipulation isn't one you really want to cross (though, to be very fair to her, she usually reserves her wrath for people that have hurt her or her friends in some way)

sol... well, it depends on if you stick to his strict expectation of perfection. most people don't! sol's less outright mean and more backhanded and passive aggressive. he's not afraid to insult people, but he'll do it in a very backhanded way (at least, if you haven't pissed him off enough. if you have, he just goes straight for the throat) he's all bark and no bite!

neither of them are really traditionally 'mean'- phoenix is more slow and venomous with her cruelty if she sees fit, whereas sol is fairly friendly and amicable if you stay on his good side! neither of them will just be an ass to someone for no reason!

[claudiosuenaga]

Os 45 anos de Contatos Imediatos do 3º Grau

Por Cláudio Tsuyoshi Suenaga

Steven Spielberg (1946-) começou a se interessar pelos OVNIs desde cedo. Em 1964, aos 18 anos, tendo por equipamento uma câmera Kodak de 8 mm e no elenco seus amigos de Phoenix, Arizona, rodou Firelight, um filme de duas horas e meia de duração baseado em relatos de avistamentos de UFOs.

Treze anos depois, em 1977, munido de um aparato técnico invejável proporcionado pelo mega-sucesso do suspense Jaws [Tubarão (1975)], Spielberg retomou o gênero e promoveu a chegada à Terra, com toda pompa, de um gigantesco disco voador em Close Encounters of the Third Kind (Contatos Imediatos do Terceiro Grau). Quebrando a tradição hollywoodiana de tratar os OVNIs como uma parábola da Guerra Fria,[1] Spielberg libertou a ficção científica dos vínculos políticos e ideológicos e recuperou a sua essência mítica e religiosa.

A índole dos seres em Contatos extrapola a humana, equiparando-se a de anjos salvadores. Em uma das cenas há uma clara referência ao filme The Ten Commandments (Os Dez Mandamentos), dirigido em 1956 por Cecil Blount DeMille (1881-1959). Os filhos do “escolhido” Roy Neary (Richard Dreyfuss), um entediado funcionário de uma empresa de luz e força do subúrbio de uma cidade de Indiana, em vez de irem dormir manifestam o desejo de assistir o épico de quase quatro horas na tevê.

O episódio de Moisés está ligado à visão obsessiva a vários personagens que desenham ou modelam uma montanha, conforme suas inclinações, de maneira quase psicográfica. Na narrativa bíblica, Moisés vai buscar a tábua dos mandamentos no Monte Sinai; em Contatos, os cientistas vão à Devil’s Tower (Torre do Diabo), em Wyoming, receber e decodificar mensagens em forma de luzes e sons musicais.

A referência mais marcante de Contatos é justamente a música, em escala diatônica de cinco notas: “ré-mi-dó-dó-sol”.[2] Essa melodia é ouvida no Ocidente e no Oriente, no México – quando um índio mexicano declara que “el sol cantó para mí!” –, nos Estados Unidos e na Índia, configurando um sintomático fenômeno religioso de massa.[3]

Apoiado em casos verídicos e na consultoria do astrofísico e ufólogo Josef Allen Hynek (1910-1986), que faz uma ponta como um cientista que assiste ao desembarque dos alienígenas enquanto fuma cachimbo, Contatos Imediatos é o único filme inteiramente concebido e escrito por Spielberg, ou seja, ele foi o único autor tanto da história original como do roteiro.[4]

O astrofísico Josef Allen Hynek (1910-1986), consultor da USAF para o assunto dos OVNIs e estabelecedor da classificação dos Contatos Imediatos com os OVNIs e seus tripulantes em graus, faz sua ponta no filme.

Spielberg pensou no cineasta francês François Truffaut (1932-1984) para o papel do cientista e ufólogo Claude Lacombe, inspirado na figura do astrofísico e ufólogo Jacques Vallée. Temendo que Truffaut recusasse o papel, chegou a oferecê-lo a Lino Ventura, Yves Montand, Gérard Depardieu, Phillipe Noiret e Michel Piccoli. Mas, uma semana depois de receber o roteiro, Truffaut ligou à produtora do filme, Julia Phillips, perguntando quando começavam as filmagens. Alguns anos depois, Truffaut avaliou que “o sucesso de Contatos Imediatos deve-se ao talento muito especial de Spielberg de dar plausibilidade ao extraordinário. Se vocês analisarem Contatos Imediatos do Terceiro Grau, verão que Spielberg tomou o cuidado de rodar todas as cenas da vida cotidiana dando-lhes um aspecto um pouco fantástico, ao passo que, no outro prato da balança, dava o máximo de cotidianidade às cenas fantásticas.”[5]

Spielberg concretizou seus sonhos de infância por meio dos efeitos especiais de Douglas Trumbull (1942-2022), de 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), Silent Running (1972), Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979) e Blade Runner (1982). A gigantesca nave-mãe, com seu design de árvore de natal ou candelabro invertido, passa uma impressão de leveza. A orquestra cita When you Wish Upon a Star, a canção do Grilo Falante em Pinocchio [Pinóquio (1940)], de Walt Disney (1901-1966). As naves voam feito as fadas de Sleeping Beauty [A Bela Adormecida (1959)], e da mesma maneira fascinam e atraem tanto o adulto Roy Neary, quanto o garoto Barry Guiler (Cary Guffey).

Em sua primeira obra oficial sobre extraterrestres, Spielberg foi buscar os alienígenas não em outros planetas, mas na Terra do Nunca. O Peter Pan em questão, o homem que encontra um jeito de não crescer, é Neary, que leva uma vida chata. Seus filhos bancam os pequenos adultos e sua mulher não se interessa por fantasias infantis. Até que, numa bela noite, seres brincalhões provocam um blecaute e interceptam o caminhão de Neary.

Ele passa a dividir com outras testemunhas a obsessão por uma peculiar formação geológica. Convergindo para o mesmo ponto está o professor Lacombe, que investiga uma série de pistas deixadas pelos visitantes do espaço, dispostos a manter contato direto e intercambiar conhecimentos com os habitantes da Terra.

Os alienígenas que aparecem no final do filme estão no caminho evolutivo entre o feto que fecha 2001 e o monstrinho de ET. Para Arthur C. Clarke (1917-2008), o encontro do homem com uma inteligência superior significa o fim da infância para a humanidade. Para Spielberg, a infância recomeça na porta de um disco voador.[6]

Contatos Imediatos teve uma das maiores bilheterias da história até então, e só não foi a maior bilheteria de 1977 porque, naquele ano, um colega e amigo de Spielberg, George Lucas (1944-), revolucionaria a maneira de como os filmes eram pensados e produzidos com Star Wars: Episode IV – A New Hope (Guerra nas Estrelas: Episódio IV – Uma Nova Esperança), o primeiro da primeira trilogia em ordem cronológica inversa.

Instigado com a inata propensão das testemunhas em pinçarem elementos da ficção e as incorporarem aos relatos, o psicólogo social argentino Roberto Enrique Banchs empreendeu um estudo rigoroso e categórico dos efeitos na população de filmes nitidamente sugestionáveis. Mediante gráficos e quadros estatísticos, demonstrou cabalmente que as ondas de OVNIs irrompiam, incrementavam-se e decresciam muitas vezes acompanhando a época de lançamento, exibição e saída de cartaz.

“É notório observar que sua projeção coincide com os meses de maior incidência de informes, os quais se reduzem sensivelmente quando o filme deixa de ocupar as telas das salas cinematográficas”, escreveu ele em seu livro Fenómenos Aéreos Inusuales: Un Enfoque Biopsicosocial. O comentário se refere a justamente a Contatos Imediatos do Terceiro Grau, exibido na Argentina em 1978, ano em que esse país se viu às voltas com uma gigantesca onda de discos voadores.

Banchs afirmou que “A relação de causalidade estabelecida entre ambos – filmes-onda – não pode passar despercebida no momento de analisar o papel desempenhado pelo gênero ficção científica na atividade ufológica. Assim sendo, o presente estudo confirma a hipótese de que o fenômeno não se manifesta em ciclos ou ondas devido a sua natureza intrínseca, e sim a fatores alheios, denotando um estado de emoção latente que aguarda não mais do que uma oportunidade para manifestar-se.”[9]

Notas

[1] Para mais detalhes sobre esse gênero de filmes, ver a segunda edição de meu livro Contatados: Embaixadores das Estrelas, Arautos de uma Nova Era ou a Quinta Coluna do Governo Mundial?

[2] Curiosamente, Contatos Imediatos foi o primeiro filme exibido pela extinta Rede Manchete de televisão – do jornalista e empresário ucraniano naturalizado brasileiro Adolpho Bloch (1908-1995) –, apenas três horas após sua inauguração, em 5 de junho de 1983. Por muitos anos a saudosa emissora (que permaneceu no ar até o dia 10 de maio de 1999) usou a trilha sonora do filme nas suas vinhetas, tornando-a uma de suas marcas registradas.

[3] Colangelo, Adriano. “Contatos Imediatos do Terceiro Grau: sons e cores na simbologia esotérica de um filme”, in O melhor de Planeta: Ufologia II, São Paulo, nº 100-A, s.d., p.31-33.

[4] Spielberg, Steven. Contatos Imediatos do Terceiro Grau, 3ª ed., Rio de Janeiro, Record, s.d.

[5] Texto escrito para o prefácio da edição francesa do livro L’Aventure Spielberg, de Tony Crawley, em 1984 (Paris, Ed. Pygmalion/Gerard Watelet).

[6] Smirkoff, Marcos. “Contatos Imediatos chega em versão remontada”, in Folha de S. Paulo, 4-1-1990, ilustrada, p.5, c.E.

[7] Araújo, Inácio. “Guerra…  sintetiza Hollywood”, in Folha de S. Paulo, 17-2-1997, ilustrada, p.7, c.4.

[8] Campbell, Joseph & Moyers, Bill. O Poder do Mito, São Paulo, Palas Athena, 1990, p.VIII-IX, 19.

[9] Banchs, Roberto Enrique. Fenómenos Aéreos Inusuales: Un Enfoque Biopsicosocial, Buenos Aires, LEUKA, 1994, p.83.

[ghost-town-story]

Will sighed and sat back on his heels. “I know you two are there,” he called.

There was a pause, then the sound of paws skittering across stone echoed through the chamber as Sol tumbled into view, Luna close on his heels.

Will raised an eyebrow at the two pups. “And why are you in here?” he asked.

“Looking for you,” Sol yipped. “What’re you doing shut up in here for so long? You’re never in here for that long, except--” He cut off with a guilty little start. 

The eyebrow raised higher. “Except for?”

Sol deflated a bit under Will’s gaze, his tail dropping with a soft whine. Luna answered for him. “Alizeh said that every summer, you spend a whole day in here, and you won’t even come out for food.”

Will repressed the urge to sigh heavily, raising his eyes to the ceiling briefly.

“So?” Sol’s curiosity could never be tamped down for long.

Will watched the flames flickering across the dais for a few long moments, corralling his thoughts and considering if the pups were even old enough for this story.

Finally, he made up his mind. “Come here.”

Sol bounded across the floor in a few overexcited leaps, nearly bowling over Will in the process. By the time he settled into a squirming pile, Luna had curled up by Will’s side, resting her head on his knee. Will scratched behind her ear and ruffled Sol’s scruff before he spoke again.

“Once upon a time, a long time ago, I was just like one of the humans that lives down in the valley.”

“What?” Sol surged to his feet, but a sharp look from Will had him reluctantly sinking to the floor again. “But you’re a wolf just like us!”

“Am I?” Will placed his hand on the ground next to Sol’s paw, splaying his fingers. Sol looked between his paw and Will’s hand, then whined softly in confusion.

“But you can speak like us,” Luna said quietly. “And they can’t. And you live with us, and hunt with us.”

“True.” Will ran his fingers through her fur. “I was... changed. I am no longer fully human, and while I’m not a wolf like you or Sol, I am somewhere between wolf and human.”

“How?” Luna asked.

Will couldn’t help the shudder that ran through his body. “That is a tale for another time,” he said. “The point of this is, even though I’m not human anymore, there are still some human traditions that I follow.”

“Like being shut up in a cave?” Sol shook his head, his fur ruffling in distaste.

“Not exactly.” Will watched the flames dance across the stone, wondering if he was just imagining the little suns and moons he saw in the patterns, wondering if perhaps they were unconsciously reacting to him and Sol and Luna.

Luna whined softly, pushing her head up against his hand. Will closed his eyes and shook his head, as if to dislodge those thoughts. “Well,” he said, “if your goal was to coerce me out sometime before midnight, consider that achieved. Wait for me outside, and I’ll join you soon, alright?”

Sol immediately bounded to his feet, but Luna was a little slower, a little more perceptive of Will’s mood.

“I’m fine,” Will said quietly, soothingly. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Luna still didn’t look wholly convinced, but she allowed her brother to lead her out of the cave to wait.

Will sighed heavily, then got to his feet. Out of habit, he glanced down at the dais, searching without hope for any sign of change.

It was the same as it had been the last thousand or so times Will had checked it. The fire still ran freely across the stone, cradling and protecting Jared’s sleeping body within its grasp.

Will watched the firelight play across his brother’s feathers for a few moments, unable to stifle the faint hope that at any moment Jared might open his eyes and sit up. But Jared didn’t so much as stir from his enchanted sleep.

Finally, Will sighed and took a step back. His voice echoed slightly in the emptiness as he spoke again.

“Happy birthday Jared.”

Then, Will turned and made his way out of the cave without a backwards glance.

[bvlgae]

"I hate you!"

He's acting his age and he knows it. At least he has that much of an excuse. His eyes sting. Tears are welling up, threatening to spill over, to draw glistening streaks over his cheeks. Sephiroth balls up his fists instead, wills the tears not to fall because that's the last gods damned thing he needs. And what he needs right now is to hang onto his anger.

Somehow, he thought he'd be used to it by now. Nothing but a muzzled pet, a prized science fair project, or a show horse paraded around for a crooning audience. Not a person. Not someone to anybody.

All those life lessons, the wrinkles at the corner of Ravus's eyes when he narrated over a new story and Sephiroth laughed along with it, cuddling by firelight on cold nights, discarded candy wrappers, and counting shooting stars. That wasn't for him.

Why can't he just be? Why can't people just let him exist for who he is? To see him and not something or someone else?

The signs were there. He had chosen to ignore them for so long. Whenever Ravus looked at him out of the corner of his eye or when the other man ruffled his hair...He wasn't seeing Sephiroth, but Lunafreya.

Pinpointing the exact moment he figured out what was happening seems impossible. Hearing Ravus stumble over Lunafreya's name, openly confusing memory for reality...that hurt too much to describe.

Sephiroth tries to leave, to turn away and fight his way through the shrubbery clawing at his legs because he knows he can't stop the tears now. They run hot, like little flames burning all the way down until they drip off the end of his chin.

"You miss her so bad-- you should go find her then! What the hell are you doing with me?! Just leave me alone. I don't need you. I don't need anybody."

It was a mistake, he knows. But his attempt at explaining his error is cut short, by three words that manage to wound him deeper than any sword or stray bullet.

The boy doesn't mean it. He couldn't.

...did he?

"Wait, you're only going to hurt yourself-" he tries to keep his tone steady, not raising volume or casting an edge to it, nothing that can be further misconstrued.

As much as it hurts, Sephiroth's emotions were more important to him. He wanted- No, needed to set this right.

"I misspoke. You've seen me get confused before- Disassociate from the present. That's all it was."

Perhaps a weak excuse, but there was truth to it.

Of course he missed her. How couldn't he? How could he ever disrespect or think ill of Lunafreya after what he did.

"She's... dead, Seph. And I've known, for a long time, that she's never coming back. No one could ever replace the void left in my heart that she once occupied. The same way that no one could ever replace you."

How could he describe it in words that didn't sound paltry in comparison to what he felt? If he couldn't retain his pride, he could at least retain what little humanity he had left. Maybe it was too late for even that.

"All I had to ground me for years was revenge. They tell you sometimes it's better to just forget- How could I forget? How could I forgive? To me, forgiveness was something that could only be given by those who still had something to begin with. You know that when it gets tough like that, it's going to turn ugly. I thought that I didn't care how low I sunk, how far gone I'd be, but it's different now. Everything's different. I hated it at first, but fuck it- I've been working for a long time and I haven't done much with the earnings. You want to leave? You want to disappear, we can do that. You wanted to go to Costa del Sol? Hell, we'll do that too- Buy a bed with feathers stuffed into it and everything, no keeping our backs to the wall, no sleeping with one eye open anymore. Just those fruity drinks with stupid, tiny umbrellas and miles of nothing but ocean."

They'd done enough killing, it was time to start living.