#Transformer Armored Alliance

[phenioxflame]

Transformers- Armored Alliance: Season 1 Mission 3: Facade

May Flower looks around her dest in her tent. She then looks under her medical table and then her testing table. She rushes out of her tent and walks to the ship. She walks on and looks around her quarters. Ultra Violet looks up from her work station and asks, “What are you doing?”

“Have you seen the spike?”, May Flower asks.

“The what?”

“The spike! The device I use to make and analyze the vaccinations. I put it in my tent and now I can’t find it.”

“I’ll help you find it.”

Angel Wing looks at the screen; data processing from the other night. Angel Wing thinks back to what May Flower said the night before about Stefano.

“Stefano’s infection is changing daily. From the data tonight, and from the one last week, he’s a walking bioweapon. Orbzorbing organic matter wherever he goes.”

Angel Wing grips her right arm, trying to contain her nerves. She starts to tap her heel on the ground. BumbleBee, Strong Arm and Side Swipe walk to the ship.

“Has Angel Wing found anything yet?”, Strong Arm asks.

“No, not yet.”, BumbleBee says. “She’s been at the monitors all night.”

“What exactly is she looking for?”, Side Swipe asks.

“I’m not sure.” The trio heard multiple taps coming from the console room on the ship.

“What is that?” The trio walk into the ship and walk over to the console room to see Angel Wing tapping her heel on the floor.

“Angie?” BumbleBee walks over to Angel Wing and puts his hand on her shoulder. Angel Wing stops tapping her heel.

“What are you guys doing here?”, Angel Wing asks.

“We came to check on you.”, BumbleBee says.

“Have you really been here all night?”, Side Swipe asks.

“I have. I’ve been going over the data collected from last night, and Stefano is only getting stronger.”

“How?”, Strong Arm asks.

“May Flower analyzed the data from the other night and–”

“Ghaaaaaah!” Before Angel Wing could finish her sentence, an angered scream could be heard from the junkyard.

“What was that?”, BumbleBee wondered.

“FIXIT!!!”

“That would be May Flower.”, Angel Wing says. The group walk out of the ship to see May Flower arguing with FixIt; holding him by his right wheel; hanging upside down.

“Mother Box, I knew it! I knew you took the spike!”, May Flower shouted. “Why did you take it?”

“I just wanted to use it.”, FixIt proclaims, trying to break away from May Flower’s grip on his wheel.

“This device is fragile! You can take it and–” Before May could say another word, the spike slipped from FixIt’s hand and fell to the ground; breaking into several small pieces. May Flower looks down and could herself turn a pale white. She drops FixIt and he falls on his head. Russell walks out from the trailer and looks at the others.

“Um, what’s going on?”, he asks. “Why does May Flower look like that?”

“Mind break.”, Wolf Fang whispers.

“FixIt… LOOK WHAT YOU DID!!”, May Flower shouted in rage, her eyes red with anger, her teeth sharp and her hands as sharp as claws.

“Some one help!”, FixIt yells. Ultra Violet and Tiger Lily hold May Flower by her arms and try to hold her back while she screams in anger.

“May Flower, calm down!”, Tiger Lily says.

“He Broke it!”

“Is that how angry she gets?”, Side Swipe asks. Angel Wing sighs and says, “Yes… but it’s not this bad.” Angel Wing quickly walks over to May Flower and places her index finger and middle finger on her neck. May Flower grits her teeth and falls to the ground in pain. “There. That should calm her down for a while.”

“Was that really necessary?”, BumbleBee asks.

“It was this, Or I straight up kick her ass.”

“That was the only thing I had to make the vaccinations for the O-Virus.”, May Flower says, her head in her hands. “I’ll have to make a new one from scratch…”

“May, It’s fine. You’ve made enough vaccinations for the next year.”, Silver Eyes says.

“It’s a bid problem!”, May Flower says.

“She’s right.”, Angel Wing adds.

“What do you mean?”, Wolf Fang asks.

“Stefano is getting worse," May Flower says. She types on the table and shows the other the data from last night and last week. “Stefano’s mutation isn’t normal. It’s changing daily. The more organic matter he consumes, the more he grows stronger.”

“So let’s find him.”, Ultra Violet says. “We end him in one blow and it’s the end of him.”

“Absolutely not!” Everyone looks at Angel Wing in confusion.

“Why not?”, Side Swipe asks.

“Even if Stefano is a criminal and a threat to Earth, he is still Cybertronian.”, Angel Wing says, her tone leveled and stern. “I will not have Cybertonian blood spilled on this planet.”

“If you say so, Cap.”, Ultra Violet says. “So what’s our plan to find our runaway scorpion?”

“Do we still have no leads?”, Tiger Lily asks Silver Eyes.

“I’ve had every scanner in the area look for him, But I got nothing.”, Silver Eyes says. “We’re pretty much in the dark.” Before anyone could say anything, the alarm goes off.

“What’s that?”, Grim Lock asks. Tiger Lily runs over to the monitors and types on the computer; bringing up multiple camera feeds.

“Fuck!”

“What happened?”

I set up cameras around the edge of the city and near the forest and guess which serial killer took them down.”

“He’s in the forest?!”, Silver Eyes asks with worry.

“Silver Eyes, get his location.” Silver Eyes types on the table and pulls up a screen.

“He’s in a cave?”, Silver Eyes says in confusion.

“I thought your scans didn’t go underground.”, BumbleBee says. Wolf Fang smirks and chuckles to herself. “Mind telling us what’s so funny?”

“While me and Stefano were fighting, I managed to hide a tracking device. Inside his body.”

“How the hell did you do that?”

“Angel Wing taught me how to do it. All I had to do was stab his chest with my sword.” Angel Wing clears her throat while covering her mouth and says, “You can explain that later. Let’s go before he gets away again.” While everyone walks out, Tiger Lily looks back to see Angel Wing looking at the data of Stefano.

“Captain? Are you okay?”, she asks. Angel Wing, still looking at the data, says, “I’m fine. Just…”

“You don’t have to say it, Angel Wing. I know.” Angel Wing walks out of the ship. Tiger Lily looks at the screen and thinks to herself, “I won’t let you break her down. Not while I have you at gunpoint.”

The group drives through the forest; the light of the half moon breaking through the branches and leaves.

“Why do we have to be under a tarp?”, Ultra Violet asks in annoyance.

“You know why.”, Angel Wing says. “You and May Flower don’t have proper disguises.”

“We’re in a forest, for crying out loud! I don’t see why we can’t use our Cybertronian forms.”

“Humans could be in the area. This is better than being found out.” Tiger Lily looks back while Angel Wing talks with Ultra Violet; worried and concerned. BumbleBee moves his mirror to face Tiger Lily, seeing her worry and concern. He drives back a bit and asks, “Tiger Lily, are you okay?”

“No. I’m not. I’m worried about Angel Wing’s state of mind.”

“What do you mean?”

“Angel Wing had been dead set on taking in Stefano. She let him get away back on Cybertron. I’m just worried that this might be driving her a bit insane.” She takes a breath and says, “I don’t know if she’ll be able to do this any longer.”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine.”, BumbleBee says. “You said it yourself: Angel Wing had been doing this longer than anyone else. She’s stronger than she looks.” Tiger Lily smiles and says, “You know, sometimes I forget that you’ve known Angel Wing longer than I have.”

“You're near the operation point.”, Silver Eyes says over the radio. The group transform into their standard forms and walk to the entrance of the cave.

“May Flower, scan the cave.”, Angel Wing says. May Flower takes out the scan and scans the cave.

“No virus detection.”, May Flower says. “It could be further in the cave.”

“So how do we go about this?”, Grim Lock asks.

“We go in with caution.”, Angel Wing says. “If this is anything like what happened back in sector seventeen, He won’t give up for a second.”

“Fine by me.”, Wolf Fang said, about to run into the cave but was caught by her tail by Angel Wing. “Hey, what gives?”

“We go in together, Wolf Fang.”

“Fine…” The group walks into the cave while BumbleBee looks back at Angel Wing, seeing her hand in a fist; practically throbbing.

“Angie, you okay?” Angel Wing snaps out of her trance and looks at BumbleBee. She shakes her head and says, “Yeah. I’m just a bit on edge.”

“Really? And here I thought you were braver than that.”, BumbleBee jokes, a playful smirk on his face. Angel Wing catches on and chuckles. “What?”

“If I remember correctly, I’m not afraid of a space barnacle after… you know what.”, Angel Wing jokes. Angel Wing chuckles while BumbleBee says in annoyance, “I thought we agreed to never bring that up again.” Angel Wing continues to chuckle while BumbleBee rolls his eyes and says, “Come on. I’m sure the others are deeper into the cave.”

The group walks through the tunnel while May Flower looks at her tablet; tracking any odd movements.

“I’m not getting any O-Virus movements.”, May Flower says. “Silver Eyes, what about you?”

“I’m not getting anything from my end.”, Silver Eyes says. 

“So you can track the virus from here?”, Russell asks.

“Yes. I created this tracking device to track any O-Virus that’s moving. Since it’s of Cybertonian origin, I can track it as if it was a normal Autobot or Decepticon.”

“So, how do you know if it’s the O-Virus or a normal Cybertronian?”, FixIt asks.

“When it’s a moving target, it normally shows a green or brown signal. But if it’s an isolated strand, it’ll act like a normal Cybrtonian signal.”

“But Stefano likes to play games.”, Angel Wing says in annoyance. From further in the tunnel, metal and steel could be heard scratching against the wall and ceiling. The sound echoed through the cave.

“What is that?”, Russell asks.

“I’m not sure,”, Silver Eyes says. The sound continued to become louder and louder until it stopped.

“Get your guns out.”, Angel Wing says. “He’s up ahead.” Wolf Fang leads the others to the end of the tunnel and stops. She grips her Sword tightly and swiftly turns the corner to see a cocoon-like statue.

“SHIHIHIHIHT!” Wolf Fang falls back and catches her breath. “What the fuck is that?!” May Flower looks at the statue and taps it a few times. She takes a closer look and sees organic and mechanical-like organisms moving around from the inside.

“It looks like some kinda cocoon.”, May Flower says. “And the inside of it had organic and mechanical parts inside it.”

“Organic”? You mean like… human organs?”, Side Swipe asks.

“Not really. It looks like vines and other ground matter that’s mimicking human organisms. As for the… metal like parts… I think he’s been… um…?”

“Massproducing?”, Angel Wing says.

“Took the words right out of my mouth.” Silver Eyes and Side Swipe cover their mouths to keep themselves from vomiting.

“How is he doing that?”, BumbleBee asks.

“I’m not sure.”, May Flower says. Strong Arm looks at the ground and sees tracks going right.

“Looks like he went this way.”, Strong Arm says.

“Yeah… but he could have gone this way too.”, Ultra Violet says, pointing over to the left tunnel.

“Let’s spit up.”, BumbleBee says. “Grim, May, Wolf Fang, Side Swipe, you're with me and Angel Wing.”

“Ultra Violet, Tiger Lily, Strong Arm, you go left.”, Angel Wing says. “If we find Stefano, we shoot. Move out!”

“Wilco!” The two teams split up down the two tunnels. Wolf Fang leads, Side Swipe, Grim Lock, BumbleBee and Angel Wing down the dark tunnel. Side Swipe looks down and sees small vines moving and wiggling around.

“Angel Wing, look.” Angel Wing looks down.

“Silver Eyes, do you still have Stefano’s signal?”, Angel Wing asks.

“I do. And he’s a few feet in front of you.”, Silver Eyes says.

“Um, Silver Eyes, We don’t see anything.”, Side Swipe says. “Are you sure he’s in front of us?”

“What?” Silver Eyes type on her computer. “He’s there! He’s right in front of you! Wait… do you have your lights off?!” Side Swipe turns on his light and reveals Stefano surrounded by vines, mold and fungus. 

“So you’ve finally come.”, Stefano’s voice distorted and clear. Both broken and demonic. Silver Eyes looks at Stefano from the screen and says, “What the hell?!”

“May Flower, identify!”, Angel Wing shouted.

“I can’t. His infection is too rapid!”

“This is where you die!” Stefano grows several flesh appendages and whips them at the group. They move out the way and Angel Wing, May Flower, and BumbleBee start to shoot.

“Tiger Lily, we found him!”, Angel Wing said on the radio. She continues to shoot at Stefano in places like the chest, legs and arms.

“You can’t kill me!”, Stefano shouts. He lowers his head and begins to separate from the wall. The group backs up a few feet as Stefano’s arms transform into oversized claws; red vines wrapping around his neck, torso, and legs. Stefano extends his claws and looks up at the group with a demonic smerk. His eyes black and red. “This is your end!” The ground starts to shake under Angel Wing and it starts to break. BumbleBee looks over and starts to run over to Angel Wing. Angel Wing falls mid way until BumbleBee grabs her by the forearm.

“You okay?”

“I think.”

“Look out!”, Wolf Fang shouts. BumbleBee looks over to see one of Stefano’s flesh appendages whip around. It hits BumbleBee’s right arm and causes him to drop Angel Wing and fall with her through the hole. “Master!!!”

(80 years ago)

“Organic life?”

“Yes. Earth has trees, flowers, and many other things that are organic.”, Crystal Heart says. “It’s something I want to show you one day.” Angel looks up at the cybertronian moon and says, “I wanna see it. I wanna see it one day.”

“And you will. I promise.”

Rumbles come from above; darkness all around. BumbleBee opens his eyes and turns on his head lights.

“What happened? Where are…” BumbleBee looks back to see Angel Wing knocked out. “Angel Wing, wake up. Wake up.” BumbleBee shakes Angel Wing awake until she opens her eyes. She looks around and says in a wary state, “What happened? What is this place?”

“We fell underground.”, BumbleBee says. He helps Angel Wing up. The two look around to see if there’s any way out. While looking around, BumbleBee hears metal shaking from behind him. He looks back to see Angel Wing’s right arm shaking. “Angel Wing? You okay?” No response. Angel Wing didn't hear him. “Angie. Angel Wing!” BumbleBee takes Angel Wing’s hand and it stops shaking. Angel Wing blinks a few times and looks down. “Angel wing, what’s wrong? You’ve been spacing out all day.” Angel Wing looks at BumbleBee, her eyes filled with worry and regret. She looks away and says, “I’m sorry.”

“What? What are you talking about?”, BumbleBee asks. Angel Wing takes a breath and says, “I haven't been honest to you and the others.” She lets go of BumbleBee’s and walks up a few steps. “I knew Stefano before all of this became a problem.”

“You knew him?”

“Yes. I was friends with him even before I was an apprentice. I found out he was creating the O-Virus when the Armored Alliance first started with Alpha and Omega. If I had known he was creating the virus back then… I should have told you all of this from the get go.”

“So that’s why you’ve been spacing out.”, BumbleBee says. “Does the rest of your team know?”

“I told them the second I found out Stefano was our unsub. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you this from the start. You and your team.” BumbleBee chuckles and says, “You were always too good at keeping a secret.”

“What?”

“Angel Wing, you were only trying to protect us. But I think you should tell my team about this.” Angel Wing sighs and says, “Right.” Angel Wing looks up. “Up is our way out of here.”

Wolf Fang uses her two swords to in pain and chop up multiple infected. She jumps back and bumps into Side Swipe’s back.

“Well, looks like the hunters have become the hunted.”, Wolf Fang says, a worried smile accompanying her words.

“Not the best time to be making jokes, Wolf Fang.”, Side Swipe says. Ultra Violet, BumbleBee, Tiger Lily, Strong Arm, and May Flower backup and shoot at the multiple infected.

“None of the vaccinations are working!”, Ultra Violet shouts.

“I can’t make a new one without the spike.”, May Flower yells.

“May Flower!” May Flower looks back to see FixIt rushing down the tunnel. “Take this!” FixIt throws a small device with all his strength; a swift woosh sound making its way to May Flower. She catches the device and sees that it’s the spike. She blinks in disbelief and then smiles.

“Guys, get ready!” May Flower stabs an infected organism and creates a new vaccination.

“Alright!”

“You think you can really stop me?! A god?!”

“No. But we can!” Stefano looks to the right of him to see Angel Wing and BumbleBee run out from the darkness. Inunison Angel Wing hits Stefano with her left arm while BumbleBee hits with his right. The duo punch him back and he hits the wall.

“Thought you could keep us buried forever?”, BumbleBee says. Stefano looks at both Angel Wing and BumbleBee in anger. She screams in a broken and terrifying voice and whips his flesh appendages at the group. It wraps around Angel Wing’s and drags her to Stefano; her legs keeping her up. Stefano takes Angel Wing’s arm and says in his corrupted voice, “You turned your back on me. You have me at gunpoint and you let me go. And now you fight alongside a used-to-be criminal.” Stefano moves a few inches closer to Angel Wing’s face. Angel Wing could feel her energon rushing through her body; like a river with a fighting current. “Oh how the Primes have for grace.” Angel Wing lowered her head for a second and then looked at Stefano, her eyes yellow and bright; darkness covering around her eyes. “What the–?!” Angel Wing kicks Stefano to the wall and holds him up by his neck with her right arm.

“Let me make this fucking clear to you, you bitch… you turned your back on your own kind because you are nothing more than a sick, twisted basterd who kills other to make himself stronger. I don’t care how long it takes for me to track you down! I will travel to the ends of this earth to make sure you rot in a–” Before Angel Wing could say another word, a sharp pain came from her right arm. She looks over to see one of Stefano’s appendages stabbing the side of her shoulder. She grabs onto the appendage and swiftly takes it out of her arm while jumping back. She covers the hole in her arm while gritting her teeth in pain. She looks at the hole in her arm and sees energon and red organic matter. Strong Arm lifts her head up to see Angel Wing injured from her arm.

“Angie!” Strong Arm rushes up and tries to help Angel Wing, but is stopped by Angel Wing, raising her injured arm as a sign to stop. “Angel Wing?”

“I shot him once, I can do it again.” Stefano growled like a wild animal; ready to chase and kill its prey. He rushed to Angel Wing but Angel Wing was one step ahead and quickly took out her gun and shot Stefano in the head. Energon, blood, and organic matter like vines, leaves, and small pieces of wood flying out from the hole in his head. Stefano’s mouth shutters for a bit until he falls backward, hitting the floor with a thump. Angel Wing lowers her gun and says, “Go to hell, bitch.”

“Are you okay?”, Strong Arm asks. Angel Wing looks back and says, “For the most part.” Strong Arm looks behind Angel Wing to see Stefano rise like a vampire; his eyes glowing red, several of his appendages writhing from behind him.

“You think you can kill me?!”

“Look out!”, BumbleBee shouts. Him and Strong Arm run over to Angel Wing while Angel Wing looks back to see Stefano about to strike. BumbleBee and StrongArm shot at Stefano and he jumped back. May Flower then runs in and with all her strength; punches Stefano to the wall. The impact from the blow caused a new hole in the wall to be formed. May Flower pants a few times before shouting, “That’s what you get for trying to kill me, Bastard!”

“Whoa.”, Side Swipe says.

“How is she that strong?”, Grim Lock asks.

“Let that be a warning not to get on May Flower’s bad side.”, Ultra Violet says. Stefano pulls himself out of the wall and says, “This isn’t over, Alpha!” Stefano melds into the wall and vanishes.

“Are you okay, Angel Wing?”, BumbleBee asks.

“Aside from the hole in my arm, I’m alright.”, Angel Wing says.

“Let me have a look at it.” May Flower takes out her light and shines it on Angel Wing wound. “Looks like it’s not too far in. I can crystallize it until we get back to the junkyard.” May Flower takes out a pen and injects a small dose of the vaccination into Angel Wing’s wound. “That should do it.”

“Good. let’s get out of here.”, Wolf Fang says. Before May Flower followed the others, She walked over to FixIt and asked, “FixIt, how did you fix the spike?”

“It wasn’t that hard to fix. It was a rush job, but I was able to fix it. I’m sorry that I broke it before, May Flower.” May Flower smiles and lifts FixIt.

“Thank you, FixIt.” May Flower kisses him on the forehead. As the group started to walk out of the cave, Angel Wing stopped. BumbleBee put his hand on Angel Wing’s left shoulder and says, “You have to tell them.” Angel Wing looked at all of them and took a breath.

“Side Swipe, Grim Lock, Strong Arm, I need to tell you something.”

“And that’s it. The truth.”, Angel Wing says.

“So he was like us.”, Grim Lock said. “An Autobot.”

“Why did he create the O-Virus?”, Strong Arm asks.

“He had a fear that the Decepticons would rise again, so he created the O-Virus as a bioweapon.”, Angel Wing says. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you this from the start.”

“You really put us in a bad place, Angel Wing.”, Side Swipe says, his voice angry, frustrated, and calm. “You even put Wolf Fang in danger!”

“She knows that, Side Swipe.”, BumbleBee says. “You don’t have to twist the knife.”

“Bro, I knew that thai was gonna be dangerouse from the get go.”, Wolf Fang says. “And Angel Wing told me about her and Stefano and how things got this bad.”

“I know what I did was wrong.”, Angel Wing says. “All that I’m asking is that you give me another chance.” Strong Arm and Grim Lock look at each other and smile. Strong Arm knew that Angel Wing was only doing what she thought was right. She didn’t tell her the truth because she was trying to protect them. Grim Lock hadn’t known Angel Wing for very long, but he could tell that she was a good Cybertonian.

“Angie, you don’t even have to ask.”, Strong Arm says. She walks over to Angel Wing and takes both of her hands. “You’ve been my friend for a long time. And I know you were only trying to protect me, Grim Lock, BumbleBee, and Side Swipe. I’ll give you another chance.”

“I will too.”, Grim Lock says. “I wanna get Stefano back for what he did to us!”

“Side Swipe?” Side Swipe looks away and says, “Sorry, Angel Wing. You're gonna have to prove to me that you can be trusted again.” Angel Wing Puts her hand into a tight fist behind her back. She knew where Side Swipe was coming from. He was only worried about his team, and wolf Fang’s wellbeing.

“I… understand.”

“I told them everything. And now, Side Swipe doesn’t trust me.”

“I’m so sorry, Angie.”, Celestia says.

“I did this to myself. I only have myself to blame.”

“What about Wolf Fang?”, Dynasty Rail said.

“She’s fine, But I’m sure Side Swipe is gonna be a protective older brother more than ever now.”

“Is there anything we can do to help?”, Celestia asks.

“Not for the time being.”, Angel Wing says. “You two need to focus on your team.”

“Right.”

“Keep your chin up, Angel.”, Dynasty Rail says. “I’m sure things will get better.” Angel Wing smiles.

“Thank you. Both of you. I have to go now. I’ll talk to you both soon.”

“Talk to you soon, Angie.” Celestia and Dynasty Rail hang up and end the call. Angel Wing sighs and looks up at the screen above her, displaying her report of the events that happened hours before. She holds her left shoulder and looks down.

“What am I gonna do…? Is this… my fault…?”

[sirenjose]

Hullabaloo (Manor Game) Timeline

(Theory based on the letters)

1. Most initially think Joker = Sergei

- Violetta and Margaretha at least initially do

- Mike seems to realize who "Sergei" really is based on Joker’s limping

2. “Rehearsal Schedule” left on the table

- Found by Violetta, who shares it with everyone

* Maybe the “rehearsal schedule” is the nursery rhyme referenced by Violetta and Joker?

3. Disagreements/Factions: Margaretha and Joker, Mike and Murro (with Violetta)

- Someone finds a phonograph/record and plays “Smiley Face Polka”

- Margaretha realizes Sergei = Joker

- Margaretha confronts Joker, sharing how she knows who he is and asks him to ally himself with her for protection against Mike, who she thinks will kill her

- Meet that night

4. (?) Joker gives Margaretha a music box - Joker notices Margaretha’s room has a strange smell - Joker notices a bottle with a strange marking (drug?)

5. (?) Margaretha gives Joker a letter + tells Joker about “the perfume”

6. Joker thinks the “play” is a “fight”

- Baits (“invites”) Violetta by using the excuse of “searching for ‘inspiration’”

- Removes Violetta’s mechanical leg, immobilizing her

- Throws her out of the manor and leaves her to die in the snow

* Joker may have somehow used “the perfume” on Violetta as part of his plan?

- Violetta also saw a nursery rhyme, likely the same one Joker referenced ("We will forget everything in the past and gain new life")

- "The perfume" may be Mnemosyne/Euphoria. Caused Violetta to forget?

7. Mike begins to discover the truth(?)

- "From the moment Violetta was assaulted, Mike had a vague answer to his questions.."

- "It took that incident to make me realize that this so-called family of ours is no better than a stinking sewer"

8. Margaretha fears Joker after what he does to Violetta - Joker seemingly tells Margaretha the "sacrifice" was potentially necessary for the next phase of the game to begin

(?). At some point, Margaretha loses the music box Joker gave her.

9. Game begins - "Guest performance" (planned by Mike and Murro to crush Margaretha and Joker's alliance)

* The "guest" may be Violetta (who may have forgotten quite a bit due to the perfume)

- Truth behind the Moon River Park tragedy is exposed

* Tragedy (or circumstances/situation?) in the circus "repeated itself" and Joker's "armor of lies" crumbled.

* Joker couldn't face his "bare" self (unmasked?), and he lost control of his emotions (mental breakdown)

* Regarding this “guest performance” and the truth of the Hullabaloo tragedy being revealed, Mike may have pretended to be Sergei or Joker or something (maybe Mike as Sergei was the “guest” rather than Violetta? Or maybe alongside her?), based on Mike saying “you didn’t expect white and cinnabar to trick all of you”. Cinnabar being a shade of red, along with white, are some of the colors we see on Joker/Weeping Clown’s face. And as we know Mike was figuring out the truth, it’s possible, based on his sarcastic mention of “Sergei” that he might’ve been trying to reveal who Joker was, as well as what he did, considering his previous letter mentions how, after Violetta was attacked, that Mike “had a vague answer to his questions” (aka the truth) and “light was shone on the numerous dark events of the past”. This could then explain Joker’s “lies” being torn away and the reference to his “bare self”. If Mike maybe understood some of who Joker was, maybe even slightly had an idea to Joker’s inferiority complex, maybe that would’ve contributed even more to why Joker would lose control of his emotions?

Joker's protectiveness for Margaretha "transforms into coercion"

Margaretha goes to extremes. "Lady luck didn't smile on her this time"

* "I-If he really does make me his next target, I will never give him the chance, and I won't let myself be fooled again!"

* If the circus tragedy "repeated itself", Margaretha originally escaped from Moonlit River Park during the tragedy via jumping into the river. If "lady luck didn't smile on her this time", she may not emerge from the river this time

Joker falls into a depression from losing Margaretha

Mike gives up on revenge (family is most important to him) and "remained on the stage he'd missed for so long"

Mike realizes "his stage of happiness only existed in that short peaceful memory. Once his core value collapsed, Mike couldn't face reality in a mature manner anymore.

Mike’s “Grand Performance”

* Mike seeks the truth, closure.

* "I've even prepared a grand performance for it — an explosive performance! Bernard was always against it due to safety concerns, but he failed to realize that burning up in a sea of flames is the best ending "Hullabaloo" could ever have!"

10. Ending

Hullabaloo burns? (Mike doesn't plan to escape/survive with Murro)

Joker "followed in Margaretha's footsteps"

* If Margaretha jumped into the river, maybe he attempts the same thing?

Murro is the sole survivor

As for the trailer for the Hullabaloo event/game, based on Mike being on stage and the main person shown, and him specifically addressing Sergei, no one else being seen, I assume this could be part of Mike's "Grand Performance"?

(If not, I imagine it's the "guest performance")

[night-heart]

translate：

If Luna and Celestia were status reversals in the last post, then Wormcocoon and Rhyme are reversals of fortune

Crystal Cocoon is the long-serving, iron-fisted ruler of the Crystal Empire. He has a strong uneasiness about the borders of the country, and is a dull and uninteresting person who is obsessed with consolidating his power and has an overprotective and controlling attitude towards his subjects. But it is also because of the high alertness and training that he has repeatedly repelled the invasion of the Black Crystal King so that he has never succeeded.

Later, after the emergence of the Phantom Spirit race on the continent, they were pressured to form an alliance with Luna's horse country. The Phantom Spirits' method of invasion is very different from that of the Black Crystal King, and the Crystal Cocoon is almost powerless to do anything about it, becoming sensitive, thin, and neurotic from the days and nights of personal labor.

Demon Law, on the other hand, is the queen of the Illusory Spirit Clan. They are born with the ability to bewitch people, disguising themselves as glamorous and making intimate relationships with others, gradually sucking their emotional energy and turning it into their own life force.

Demon Ruler tries to cover up her broken body to fill her empty heart with the love of others day in and day out. She specializes in playing male horses into her hands, and one of the young up-and-coming archmages of the Crystal Empire's royal family, Silver Glimmer (Silver Armor), is one of them

Phantom Spirits' bodies are the same pink color as Demon Law, and even if they haven't experienced the burns of the original their bodies are still riddled with holes, and the emptiness that comes from their hearts becomes their own most feared form. Disgusted with the ugly body constantly transformed into a more shiny skin to cover their own uneasiness

Crystal Cocoon hates Demon Rhythm, and like the original Sky Ray is trolled by others for aging. Rhyme treats her people with gentleness, letting them go wherever they want to draw love back into their nests to feed themselves

[makeshiftdraco]

“Even if our High King agrees to an alliance, he will not surrender the ring to you.” Adar surprised him yet again, placing a hand upon the Half-elf’s breastplate just beneath his throat. Elrond knew the Moriondor could not truly feel Nenya hidden beneath the armor, but somehow Adar knew…and yet he did not take it by force. “If Gil-galad will deny me the ring, then I will require another prize in its stead.” His words baffled Elrond, and his proximity was alarming. “I have no time for riddles,” he told the Moriondor. “Speak plainly.” Adar let out a low chuckle, seemingly amused by his impatience. “I believe it is customary in many cultures to secure a political alliance through marriage.” This negotiation was getting more astounding by the minute. Elrond glanced at Galadriel whose fiery glare promised violence. Apparently Adar had kept her as his prisoner for this very reason. An Elven noble of her status would certainly elevate the Uruk’s claim to his shadow kingdom. “Lady Galadriel is already married,” Elrond informed her captor, gray eyes shifting to meet the Moriondor’s dark gaze. “According to Elven custom, she cannot be your bride.” Another smirk arose on Adar’s pale face. The expression triggered a pulse of heat low in Elrond’s gut, a warning that felt far too arousing. “I never specified that I wished to take Lady Galadriel as my betrothed.”

The Diplomacy of Desire

Adarond Diplomatic Marriage AU by makeshiftdraco

Chapter One: A Charged Proposal

Rating: Explicit

Fandom: The Rings of Power/Lord of the Rings

Pairing: Adar/Elrond

Status: In Progress

Description:

Tensions run high as Adar and Elrond meet to negotiate outside the besieged city of Eregion. When the Elven commander refuses to give up the ring of power, Adar suggests an alternative solution that catches the Half-elf by surprise. The Moriondor will agree to an alliance between Uruks and Elves upon one very specific condition...a diplomatic marriage between Elrond and himself.

Elrond must grapple with political duty and personal desires as he considers Adar's proposal. Is he willing to surrender himself to the enemy for the sake of peace? Can the Half-elf heal a wounded Middle-earth by binding himself to a ruthless stranger?

Adar knows his desire for the Half-elf is dangerous, but he cannot resist his gentle beauty. Conquest requires patience both on and off the battlefield, and the Moriondor is determined to win Elrond's hand as well as his heart.

Hopefully there's an audience for a lengthy Adarond slow burn... This rare pair needs more fics, and I'm determined to deliver!

[hath-e]

I come bearing questions.

What Mecha games are you familiar with and would recommend?

So to get the obvious out of the way:

Armored Core 6, the one most people (including myself) started with and probably the easiest to get into.

Gundam Breaker 4, personally the story is a miss for me but the gameplay and the building aspect is really fun

Titanfall 2, peak FPS probably heard of it before.

Now onto the stuff I love (I still love all 3 of these above but these ones below are so niche they deserve the extra love) :

Gearbits, it's so cheap and simple but God damn is it fun, if you have a pc that connects to a socket or a laptop that uses a battery you should definitely get it, steam exclusive unfortunately.

SD Gundam Battle Alliance, my jam before I got into GB4, it is a bit grindy but it's story is enjoyable enough and the gameplay is fire, definitely get it even if you're not sold on the SD ascetic (also first PC game to feature the Xi Gundam I'm pretty sure, tho it is dlc locked)

Into the Breach, the best turn based mecha roguelike ever made, definite classic that is both challenging and fair.

Phantom Brigade, the best turn based mecha Xcom like, although not featuring a grid system it's mechanics are fun, I haven't beaten it yet but it's probably my top 3 game (poly graphics indie games save me)

Airmech, my favorite RTS ever ever made. You get to play as a transforming robot that either sends out troops all around the map in plane mode or joins the action directly in robot mode. Absolutely love it.

Lightyear Frontier, a farming sim but you get to pilot a mecha, it is a brilliant chill game and I absolutely love it, I only played the demo but I'm getting it sometime soon.

Now onto the game I haven't played but is really good from what I've heard:

Battletech, a slow strategic Xcom like that I've wanted to get into for a while, still on the list, tons of dlc and pretty expensive.

That's all I got, there's a ton more tho, oh and:

Mecha break, a coming soon fast action PvP mecha fighter, fully customizable machines with absolutely ridiculous speeds from the looks of things.

[gerlionrise]

Reign of the Heart P2

Pairing: Jon Snow x Reader (female character) Synopsis: In a realm where duty binds hearts and crowns weigh heavy, a fragile alliance transforms into something far more powerful. Amid battles, secrets, and an unyielding desire for a better future, love may prove the most formidable force of all. But can passion thrive in the shadow of the Iron Throne?   AN: Please note that this story is a work of fiction set in the world of «A Song of Ice and Fire», but it does not adhere strictly to the canon of Game of Thrones. I have created original characters and changed certain family names, titles, and locations to fit the narrative. While inspired by the world George R.R. Martin has built, the names and events in this story are not meant to represent the original characters or lore. This is simply a new adventure within a beloved universe. Enjoy! PART 2 (part 1 is here)

Promises Shattered

The days after your explosive argument with Jon Snow settled into a tense quiet, but the silence between you felt sharper than any words. You carried the weight of your resentment like armor, unwilling to forgive the man who claimed you as his wife yet gave you none of the warmth or partnership that title should entail.  

You had always dreamed of a family—a loving husband, children to hold close. But Jon Snow had crushed that dream beneath the cold stone of his indifference. You were a queen in name, a wife in duty, but in truth, you felt like little more than a pawn in his life.  

And Jon? He seemed caught between the role of a king and the man he used to be. His attempts to close the chasm between you were clumsy and ill-timed, as though he couldn’t decide whether to embrace his emotions or suppress them.  

---  

The next morning after the feast, Jon approached you in the courtyard, where you stood brushing down your mare. His expression was hesitant, almost uncertain—a rare sight for the stoic king.  

“I thought we might ride together,” he said, his voice softer than usual.  

You glanced at him, skeptical. “And why would we do that?”  

Jon shifted his weight, uncomfortable. “Because… your father once told me you had always loved to ride. I thought it might be… pleasant.”  

Pleasant. The word grated against your already raw nerves, but part of you wanted to believe he was trying. Reluctantly, you agreed, if only to escape the oppressive walls of the Red Keep for a while.  

---  

The ride was quiet, the tension between you palpable. Jon tried to engage you in conversation, pointing out the beauty of the fields and the crispness of the northern air, but you offered only curt responses.  

At one point, he reached over to steady your horse when it startled, his hand brushing yours. The touch lingered for a moment, and for the briefest instant, you felt a flicker of the connection that had been so elusive.  

But then the anger returned, sharp and biting. Why had it taken him so long to try? Why had he let so much resentment fester before attempting to mend things?  

When you returned to the castle, you dismounted without a word, your silence speaking volumes. Jon watched you go, his expression unreadable, but you didn’t look back.  

---  

The following morning, a message arrived.  

Lord Harrick, the same man who had caused a scene at the feast, invited you to join him on a hunt. The offer was unexpected, but it gave you an idea—a way to vent your frustration and, perhaps, to provoke Jon.  

Without consulting anyone, you accepted.  

---  

The hunt was exhilarating. The wind whipped through your hair as you rode alongside Harrick, his easy laughter and charming conversation a welcome distraction from the storm brewing at home. He treated you with respect, yet there was an undercurrent of flirtation in his words—nothing overt, but enough to remind you that you were still desired, still seen.  

You spent the day among the trees, the thrill of the chase momentarily easing your anger. For the first time in months, you felt free.  

---  

When you returned to the castle that evening, Jon was waiting for you in the courtyard. His dark eyes burned with barely contained fury, his fists clenched at his sides.  

“Where have you been?” he demanded, his voice low but dangerous.  

You dismounted slowly, meeting his glare with one of your own. “I was hunting,” you said simply.  

“Hunting,” Jon repeated, his tone icy. “With Harrick.”  

You shrugged, brushing past him. “He invited me. It was a pleasant way to spend the day.”  

Jon grabbed your arm, spinning you around to face him. “You thought it was pleasant to spend the day with a man who has no respect for our marriage?”  

“Our marriage?” you snapped, yanking your arm free. “What marriage, Jon? The one where you ignore me until it suits you? The one where I’m little more than a title and a duty to you?”  

Jon’s jaw tightened, his anger barely held in check. “I’ve been trying,” he said through gritted teeth. “But you make it impossible.”  

“Trying?” you laughed bitterly, “You waste months ignoring me, and then a single horseback ride is supposed to fix everything? Do you even hear yourself?”  

“I’ve been trying to be better for a long time,” Jon said, his voice rising. “To be the husband you deserve. But you… you make it harder every day with your defiance, your games.”  

“Games?” you repeated, your voice sharp. “If anyone is playing games, it’s you, Jon. You don’t want a wife; you want a shadow who follows you silently, who never questions you. That’s not who I am.”  

Jon stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “If you don’t want to be my wife,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, “then so be it. But you will give me heirs, the council demands it.”  

The words hit you like a blow, stealing the breath from your lungs. For a moment, you could only stare at him, your anger giving way to disbelief.  

“Is that all I am to you?” you said, your voice trembling with fury. “A vessel for your heirs? A broodmare to serve your legacy?”  

Jon’s expression faltered, but he didn’t back down. “You’re my queen,” he said simply.  

“No, Jon,” you said, your voice breaking. “I am your wife. Or at least, I thought I was. But if this is what you think of me, then maybe I was wrong.”  

Without waiting for a response, you turned and walked away, your heart heavy with anger and pain.  

---  

That night, the walls of the Red Keep felt colder than ever. The unspoken tension between you and Jon had finally boiled over, leaving a rift that seemed impossible to bridge.  

But even as you lay awake, your thoughts consumed by his words, you couldn’t ignore the flicker of something deeper—something that neither of you had been willing to admit. Whether it was love, hate, or something in between, you couldn’t yet say. But whatever it was, it burned brighter than either of you could control.

[pompomqt]

Journey to the West Chapter 59

Welcome back to this week's chapter of Journey to the West with @journeythroughjourneytothewest. This week we get to continue our ongoing segment of Sun Wukong getting into trouble with members of the Bull Demon King Family. So let's get into it shall we?

So the gang is traveling along, and soon enough autumn once again comes along. However, it's feeling rather hot for this time of year, which- mood. The gang debates why this might be for a while, before Tripitaka finally just sends Monkey to ask one of the locals about it. So Monkey asks one of the locals to tell them where they are, and also if there is any particular reason for the extreme heat, you know- since global warming wasn't really a problem yet in the 7th century. And after the usual song and dance about how the disciples are so ugly and frightening, but Tripitaka's pretty boy face is enough to make up for, the random villager invites them inside for tea and exposition.

Turns out they are currently in the region known as The Mountain of Flames- aptly named after the on fire mountain that is right in the middle of their path westward. While Tripitaka is waiting for the latest bad news to finish sinking in, Monkey spots someone selling rice-puddings, and transforms one of his hairs into a coin to buy one. The rice pudding is super hot, so while Monkey tosses it from hand to hand like a hot potato while waiting for it to cool off, Monkey asks how they get any farming done under these conditions.

So the rice peddler tells them that there is an Immortal Iron-Fan who has a palm-leaf fan that can extinguish the fire with one wave, summon a breeze on the second, and on the third wave it summons rain. The times when the Immortal does this are when they can get all their farming done.

After hearing this Monkey goes back to Tripitaka and hands him the rice pudding to eat while he asks their current host where the Immortal Iron-fan lives. The villager tries to tell them that asking for the fan won't be easy, since they don't even have any offerings for the Immortal, but Monkey is insistent. So the villager tells him that they live on Jade Cloud Mountain in a cave called Palm-Leaf Cave, about 1450 miles away from here. Now that he has directions, Monkey decides to take the trip to ask for the fan. The villager tries to offer Monkey provisions for what will surely be a long and hard Journey, but Monkey just waves him off saying he's fine and takes off in a cloud somersault.

So Monkey fast travels to the mountain, but decides to gather some last minute information before going to the Immortal. Monkey spots a local wood cutter and asks for where the Palm-Leaf cave of Immortal Iron-Fan is. The Woodcutter doesn't quite know of an Immortal Iron-Fan, does he mean Princess Iron-Fan instead? You know- wife of the Bull Demon King?

Monkey, who has ran out of hope of previously being sworn brothers with the Bull Demon King getting him any special treatment in this family around the second time he had to fight a member- isn't overly pleased to hear this. Monkey isn't overly optimistic about his chances for negotiating for the fan, but decides to give a shot anyways.

So Monkey makes his way to the cave and bangs on the door, asking for the Bull Demon King to come out. Instead a young servant girl opens the door, so Monkey asks the girl to announce him to Princess Iron Fan. So she asks for his name to pass along to the Princess and Monkey tells her he's a priest from the land of the east called Sun Wukong. So the girl goes back inside and tells Princess Iron fan that a monk by the name of Sun Wukong is hear to ask to borrow the Palm-Leaf Fan.

Unsurprisingly, upon hearing this the Princess flies into a rage, and gets dressed in her armor before going out to meet him, weapons in hand. Unable to read the mood, Monkey politely greets her as 'sister in law', and tries the whole 'I had an alliance with the Bull Demon King five hundred years ago' spiel one more time. The Princess however doesn't care about any of that, what she wants to know is why Monkey got her son in trouble. Monkey tries to explain that RedBoy started it by trying to eat his master, and honestly he's in a much better position serving Guanyin now a days anyways, so really he did him a favor. However the Princess is still upset, since even though her son wasn't killed, she is still unable to even visit him now.

Monkey tries to suggest a compromise, if she loans him the fan, then after he puts out the fire he'll pay Guanyin a visit and bring RedBoy here so she can see how well he's doing herself, and he'll return the fan to her at the same time. Which I personally find a pretty fair offer, it's nice to see Monkey trying to work things out through negotiation rather then jumping straight to violence. However the Princess offers a compromise- he should instead just stand there and let her hack him up with her sword, and if he can endure it she'll lend him the fan- if not, well he'll be dead anyways and no longer her problem I guess.

Monkey is more then happy to agree to this new deal, and honestly, getting whacked a few times with a sword is probably easier for him then going all the way to Guanyin for a visit anyways. So Monkey just sticks out his head for the Princess to hit until she gets tired and tells her to have at it. So the Princess hits him about fifteen times, but doesn't accomplish anything, so she tries to flee, but Monkey insists she hand over the fan first. The Princess refuses, so Monkey pulls out his staff and the two begin to fight in earnest. The two fight until it starts getting late, and finally realizing that she'll never beat him, the Princess takes out her Palm-Leaf fan, and fans at Monkey, creating a gust of wind that blows him out of her hair.

Monkey is left blowing on this wind throughout the entire night, unable to stop or touch the ground, until he finally manages to catch onto a mountain and bring himself to a halt. And Monkey actually recognizes this mountain from a previous adventure. It's where he defeated the the other wind themed demon the Yellow Robed Demon with the help of Lingji. While he's already in the neighborhood, Monkey decides to visit Lingji to ask for directions back to where he came from. So Monkey goes to Lingji's place, and Lingji asks him if he's acquired the scriptures already. Monkey explains that there's been a slight hiccup in that plan, and that he was actually blown all the way here by Princess Iron fan.

When Monkey asks how far away he is from the Mountain of Flames, Lingji, explains that he is about fifty thousand miles away. Also that he is impressed that Monkey managed to stop when he did since the fan is capable of blowing people eighty four thousand miles. Monkey then asks if Lingji knows how they can overcome this trial, and Lingji explains that it's actually good fortune that Monkey ended up hear again. Because way back when, the Buddha had given Lingji two different items to deal with the Yellow Robed Demon, the first is the dragon staff, that they used on the Yellow Robed Demon. The second however is a Wind-Arresting Elixir that they hadn't needed to use back then, so he still has it. With the Elixir, the fan won't be able to work on Monkey, so Lingji helps sew the pellet into Monkey's collar before sending him on his way.

Monkey once again arrives at Princess Iron-Fan's doorstep, and once again bangs on the door demanding the fan. The Maid from earlier once again reports his presence to her boss, who is surprised he's back so soon, since if he should still be getting blown away by the fan right about now. This time she resolves to blow him away three or four times so that he won't be able to come back at all as she heads back out to meet him. When Monkey see's her, he once again asks to borrow the fan, and says he'll bring it back after he's done. The Princess however isn't having it, since it isn't even about the fan, not really, it's about her not being able to see her son anymore. So the Princess attacks, but this time when she gets tired of fighting and tries to blow Monkey away the fan doesn't work on him. Unsure what else to do, the Princess feel's and seals herself inside her cave.

Rather then banging on the door again, Monkey instead transforms into a tiny mole cricket and sneaks inside. And just in time to, since Princess Iron-Fan is currently calling for tea, which gives Monkey inspiration. So while the maid is pouring the Princess a cup of tea, Monkey takes the opportunity to dive into the tea. Once the Princess drinks the tea, and Monkey finds his way in the Princess's stomach, he decides to make his presence known to her. From inside of her, Monkey once again calls out to borrow the fan. The Princess is horrified and asks how he's inside her house since they locked the doors, but the maid points out that it's worse then that, he's not just in the house, he's inside her.

Monkey confirms to Princess Iron-Fan that he is indeed in her stomach right now, by punching her intestines and causing her unbearable pain. And Monkey keeps up the torture until Princess Iron-Fan finally gives in and begs for mercy, and agrees to loan him the fan. Princess Iron-Fan has one of the maids fetch the fan, once Monkey confirms it's there, he finally leaves through her mouth and transforms back into his usual form. Monkey then thanks her, before taking the fan and returning to Tripitaka and the others.

Tripitaka is delighted to see Monkey back, fan in hand. Monkey then explains his latest adventure and about how Immortal Iron-Fan is actually Princess Iron-Fan and the wife of the Bull Demon King. All caught up on current events, the group travels on-wards towards the mountain until it gets to hot for anyone but Monkey to go any further. So Monkey tells everyone to wait here for him while he goes to the mountain to extinguish the fire.

So Monkey goes to the mountain and fans the flames once, only for the flames to burn even hotter, he fans a second time only for it to become even more intense, and the third makes it even worse until the flames have increased a hundredfold. Seeing that this has not gone at all according to plan, Monkey retreats back to the others, and warns them to run since the fire is coming. After they have retreated to a safe distance, Tripitaka asks Monkey what happened. Monkey throws the fan away saying that he must have been tricked which causes Tripitaka to start crying again.

Monkey explains everything that happened to the others, and said that if he hadn't gotten away in time all his hair probably would have burned up. Pigsy asks why that is, since Monkey is usually pretty fire proof, but monkey explains that he has to prepare ahead of time with a fire repellent sign or magic to protect himself, but this time since he was expecting to put out the fire he wasn't prepared for it. For now though they have to decide what to do next since the fan was a bust.

Before they can get to deep into discussion however, the local mountain god stops by with some lunch and information. He tells them that the fan they have is indeed a fake, and for the real one they are going to have to talk to the Bull Demon King himself.

Current Sun Wukong Stats: Names/Titles: Monkey, The Stone Monkey, The Handsome Monkey King, Sun Wukong (Monkey awakened to the void), Bimawen (Banhorseplague), The Great Sage Equal To Heaven and Pilgrim Sun. Immortality: 5 + 94,000 years Weapon: The Compliant Golden Hooped Rod Abilities: 72 Transformations, Cloud-Somersault, Ability to transform his individual hairs, super strength, Ability to Summon Wind, Water restriction charm, and the ability to change into a huge war form, ability to duplicate his staff, ability to immobilize others, the ability to put others to sleep, and the Fiery eyes and Diamond Pupils, intimidating horses, churning large bodies of water, sleeplessness, seizing the wind, enhanced smell, discerning good and evil within a thousand miles, Spirit Summoning, lock picking, object transformation, distance reduction, vanishing in a flash of light, super healing, transforming others, Invisibility and Wind Resistance Demon Kill Count: 10 + Unknown Number of Minions Human Kill Count: 1039 God's Defeated: 23 + Unknown number Defeats: 7 Crime List: Robbery, Murder, Mass Murder, Arson, Theft, Coercion, Threatening a Government Official, Resisting Arrest, Assault, Forgery, Employee Theft, False Imprisonment, Impersonating a Government Official, Treason, attempted murder, failure to control or report a dangerous fire, desecrating a corpse, breaking and entering, trespassing, violating Tree Law, looting corpses, trading counterfeit goods, criminal threat, animal abuse, Assisting or Instigating Escape, Damage to Religious Property, contaminating a substance for human consumption, Identity Fraud, and Disorderly Conduct Cry Count: 9 + 3 fake cries Mountains Trapped Under: 4

Current Tang Sanzang stats: Names/Titles: River Float, Xuanzang, Tang Sanzang, Tripitaka and the Tang Monk Abilities: Curing Blindness, making branches point a certain direction (allegedly), reciting sutras, pretty privilege, memorization, Heart Sutra and Meditation. Cry Count: 31 Tight Fillet Spell Uses: 63 Paralyzed by fear: 6 Bandit Problems: 3 Kidnapped by demons: 9 Falling Off Horses: 10

Current Bai Long Ma Stats: Names/Titles: Bai Long Ma (White Dragon Horse), Prince of the Western Ocean, and third prince jade dragon of the dragon king Aorun Abilities: Transforming into a human, a water snake, and a horse, eating a horse in one bite, flight, Magic of Water Restriction, Singing, and Sword Dancing. Cry Count: 1 Crime List: Arson, and Grave Disobedience. Contributions to the plot: 3 Kidnapped by demons: 1

Current Zhu Wuneng Stats: Names/Titles: The Marshal of the Heavenly Reeds, Zhu Wuneng (Pig who is aware of ability), Zhu Ganglie, Pigsy, Idiot and Eight Rules. Weapon: Rake Abilities: 36 Transformations, parting water, fighting underwater, cloud soaring, size enhancement and CPR Demon Kill Count/Kill steals: 5 Kidnapped by Demons: 4 Human Kill Count: 1 Failed Flirtation/romances Attempts: 4 Cry Count: 2 Crime List: Sexual Harassment, Murder, Kidnapping, arson, defamation, Damage to Religious Property, contaminating a substance for human consumption, Identity Fraud, Theft and Forcible entry

Current Sha Wujing Stats: Names/Titles: The Curtain-Raising General, Sha Wujing (Sand Aware of Purity), Sandy and Sha Monk Weapon: Monster Taming Staff Abilities: Fighting underwater, Cloud soaring, and fetching water from a well. Demon Kill Count: 1 + Unknown number of minions. Kidnapped by Demons: 3 Human Kill Count: 1 Cry Count: 1 Crime List: Breaking a Crystal Cup, murder, desecration of a human corpse, Damage to Religious Property and contaminating a substance for human consumption

Previous - Masterpost - Next

[azure-tiamat]

Hi people, so I'm back in the brainrot fandom known as Transformers Prime (Tfp). .. I'm also up for crossovers.

As such I present to you: Jackson 'Jack' Darby as Lance McClain, Blue Paladin of Voltron AU.

After the Autobots returned to Cybertron, Jack tries to retain that sense of Space and adventure, yearning to meet them again. Agent Walter gets him into the Garrison, requiring a fake ID if he doesn't want them to realise he's a special case - which he doesn't want. Though he wonders how Iverson would react to knowing his background when 'the only reason he was admitted into fighter jet was because the best pilot in their class had a disciplinary issue and flunked out'. Yes, he's got the line down pat, the man says it often enough.

He thought the alien war had ended with the Autobots and Deceptions; apparently he was mistaken. Where before it was cybertronic life forms fighting over resources (mostly), there was a civil war that dragged out against what was effectively furrys, the Galra were even older than the feud back on earth and far beyond the level of 'war' as he's known it to exist... Depends if they have a deity of destruction capable of terra-forming a planet and appearing as earth titans. They got the mystery aspect already, with Voltron and quintessence.

He could've hoped for a better team though. Keith sometimes reminded him of Miko, but at least she was more annoying than stabbing on contact. Shirt had his work and trauma cut out for him, at least that's something he knows how to handle from watching Arcee, Ratchet and Optimus. He honestly can't handle Allura though -- was royalty like this? He'd been a child -teen- soldier, but the rest of them had been cadets with no prior exposure and now they're all with shallow support systems to fall back on (nevermind the whole Holt-fiasco Pidge has going on.)

....

It just so happens that Allura found Cybertron and decided to propose an alliance. Lance debated wether he should tell them the Galra and Lions (why were they both feline?) weren't the only visitors earth had and decides it's high-time he tells them he's friends with them, but he ends up getting shot down for 'bad/ inappropriate jokes'. He raises his hands in the air, acquiescing to their dismissive reaction since he's far more eager to meet Arcee, Bee, Bulkhead, Ratchet and more than to correct their opinion.

Lance goes to meet them in classic clothes, without his armor, since he 'doesn't want to come off as aggressive' unlike the rest who, come what he may hint at, still follow Altea's thousands of years old data on their races society - slaves, war, etc. Something he knows best will not be received well. At all. He's also partially expecting Allura or one of the others, bets on Pidge, to go on about their Hierarchy system and slavery - which, he gets it, honestly, knowing her own situation, but that'll rather serve to sever any prospective alliance than 'revolutionize their society'. So it's gonna be bad, as the Cybertronians have technology surpassing even the Galras on kriffing space bridges. Shame too, as it would stop the overreliance on Allura to input coordinates and their allies could use it as well to offer assistance in a snap.

So when they enter Cybertrons gravitational pull Lance is the only one not up-to-snuff, dressed in his old clothes who were newly synthesized by the Castle's repair systems. Arcee is bound to get a visual alert on the similarities, at least. If she's not too busy to meet him. Ratchet should be there though, he'd received the transmission. But he hopes to see the femme again. He'd missed her and their rides around Nevada a lot. He'd been her charge, she'd seen most of his wardrobe in the span of -give or take- 5 years and thus bound to recognize him from any angle. She was there, probably as backup or guard and, as while Voltron's heads were talking politics -thank Primus Wheeljack's not here for that- they were subtly scanned for weapons and threats. He kept an eye on her, which her optics picked up on and when she turned to Lance she stared. For a good few doboshes neither blinked, before a hopeful expression grew on her face. Thank Primus she recognized him! Actually, so did Bumblebee and Bulkhead who, while not as quick to notice as Arcee, did have a memory file pop up at the sound of his voice: It was a done deal when he told Pidge off and Keith to stop running off, the same way he'd do with Miko when she (again) ran straight into blaster fire or portals.

If only she could see him now, she'd see the irony of it.

Ratchet was surprised at the foreign contact before he was pleased, an offer for an alliance to stop a tyranny would be the distraction some of them needed and a fresh start for Cybertrons dark past. Then he was slightly concerned as they came to meet them with weapons, stating they themselves are armed. Also, what are humans doing here?? What is the Altean expecting of them, not lose an arm? Be legendary warriors like Optimus?? Hah! They were friendly compared to other species in their galaxy, having disengaged the automatic target system for their blasters!! When the princess came into the picture, proudly stating that they were aware of the risks and willing to fight to the death for their cause he was so fragging pissed at her he wished he had a larger exhaust pipe to blow off steam.

"By the Allspark- have you no shame in sending a species not even into adulthood to fight your war at the front lines!?"

"Jack, I thought you were more responsible than that." Arcee starts. Ratchet momentarily lags, blinking his optics at the human clad in a dark blue turtleneck and pants. He barely looks like he's aged.. oh, don't tell him Miko is hiding somewhere too.

"I am. You're looking at the one and only multi-talented sniper of Voltron." He looked at Bumblebee whilst his old guardian was still looking pissed but at least she was joining Ratchet on grilling Allura instead of his morals. The femme had always been his inspiration for angry power-walks and she proved that, stomping so close he worried she'd step on her before letting all of Cybertrons hear her rage.

Wisely, from.experience, he opts out of listening to that and focuses on the scout "...Yeah, it really helped that you taught us some of your tricks as a scout way back then. Didn't think I'd need it after we... thank Primus for that, really."

The yellow cameron let out a string of beeps, not using his radio. Perhaps for old time's sake, he's feeling nostalgic too, seeing them again. The high chirps and deep rumble takes him longer to translate than Raf would, but he also knows how the other thinks, so he makes a pretty educated guess.

"Raf and Miko are fine, last I video chatted with them - a year or so ago. Raf was graduating from some fancy science school in Arizona, aiming to get into State Security, maybe Satellite Scanners legally." The Autobot was listening intently, so he can safely assume he hit the hammer in the head. Actually, looking at the scout reminded him: "He also remade his own yellow car; it's got AI and spy cams. He really misses you buddy. He managed to keep the feed from the base saved on his laptop. We watched them like, every month after you were gone. Miko actually made a mixtape out of the funniest moments - kinda like a video documentary."

He looks at the Wrecker that's been keeping watch on the other paladins, Keith in particular was receiving Knockouts -the red sports car, medic and ex-decepticons- attention. "Miko is working her way up the music industry, though as a Voice actor right now. She's getting pretty popular and working on getting support for solo albums. And, cause we know Miko, she's also doing parkour. It reminds her of our adventures.

We missed you all pretty bad."

A digit picked him up and Hunk yelled out for him, fearful as Keith drew his sword and tried hacking it at his capturers pede. It was Ratchet, who took a pause in denoting Allura's self-esteem from Royal know-it-better to galactic fuck-up her father would cast from his presence. He also gave Keith the 'this is clearly not working, are you dumb' look. Also a memorable sight from Earth.

A part of him felt avenged, and comforted in knowing Ratchet was the one coming to their defense when it had been just him still fighting for their peace. This war wasn't theirs, they belonged home, the Holts deserved to be recovered, yes, but war would be a couple dozen steps away still if it hadn't been for Allura (and Blue, but she didn't have many options on isolated Earth to glean help from. Allura did, a rebellion existed - the Blade of Marmora and the Freedom Fighters).

[novaursa]

Of Gods and Men (covenant)

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.

- Pairing: reader!Daenys Targaryen/Leto Atredies

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

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Previous part: daybreak

- Next part: god killer

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

Half a year had passed since the alliance between House Atreides and House Targaryen had been sealed with parchment and promises. Now, in the grand city of Arrakeen, the bond between Leto and Daenys would be sealed with something far more lasting—marriage.

The day had come.

Arrakeen had never seen a celebration quite like this one. The streets were alive with music, banners, and the hum of a thousand voices. The once somber and desolate city was transformed into a vibrant festival, where representatives from allied Houses had gathered, not just from within the Imperium but from the far reaches of the Targaryen's hidden domain. House banners rippled in the hot desert winds, and there was no mistaking the awe that gripped those who had never before encountered the Targaryen sigil—the three-headed dragon on black, alongside the Atreides hawk.

Inside the towering stronghold, Leto stood at the far end of the hall, dressed in the deep green and gold of his House, his posture commanding, but his heart undeniably lighter than it had been in many months. His eyes were focused on the massive entrance doors, waiting for you—Daenys. He had dreamed of this moment, though it still felt surreal. The weight of leadership, of the war that loomed over them, fell away for just a moment. He was not just the Duke today. He was a man about to marry the woman who had come to mean more to him than he had thought possible.

Across from him stood the Targaryen delegation, Aenys resplendent in his armor, a silent observer of his daughter’s union. His expression, though calm and unreadable, carried the pride of a father knowing that his bloodline would now shape the future of Arrakis and beyond. Aelor and Maelor stood beside their father, the former nodding in approval to Leto, the latter slightly more cautious, but no less honored to witness this union.

And then the doors opened.

All eyes turned as you stepped into the hall, your figure framed by the light of the desert sun spilling through the doorway. You moved with the quiet grace of a dragonlord’s daughter, wearing a gown woven with threads of silver and red, reminiscent of your family’s ancient colors. Dragonscale patterns glimmered faintly across the fabric, a nod to your heritage, and yet the simplicity of the gown allowed your natural beauty to shine through.

The hall fell into a reverent hush as you walked toward Leto, your gaze locking with his. His breath caught in his throat for a moment—he had seen you in battle, watched you soar on the back of your dragon, but in this moment, you were more radiant than ever before. And you were his.

As you approached, Leto stepped forward, closing the distance between you, his heart pounding with something more than just nerves. He could see the same emotions reflected in your lilac eyes, a mix of anticipation and warmth that made him feel at ease. This wasn’t just a political arrangement anymore. It was something real, something profound that would bind you both in ways neither of you had expected when you first met.

The ceremony began, overseen by a Fremen elder and a representative of the Targaryen faith—an unusual combination that symbolized the unity not just between two noble Houses, but between two entirely different worlds. The elder’s voice was low and steady, speaking words of unity and strength, while the Targaryen priestess invoked the ancient words of Valyria, calling upon the power of dragons to bless the union.

And then came the vows.

Leto took your hand, his grip firm yet gentle. His voice, usually so commanding, softened as he spoke. “Daenys,” he began, “I’ve stood on many battlegrounds, faced countless dangers… but none of that compares to the honor of standing here, before you. Today, I take you not just as my wife, but as my partner in all things. Together, we will face whatever comes, and I will stand beside you, as we forge the future of our Houses.”

You smiled softly, squeezing his hand in return. When you spoke, your voice was filled with the same strength and tenderness. “Leto, my journey began long before I came to Arrakis, but in you, I found someone worth standing with. You’ve faced hardships that few could understand, and yet you’ve remained strong, not just for your House, but for the people who rely on you. Today, I promise to be your strength, as you have been mine, and together, we will bring fire and life to this world.”

The final words were spoken, and the Fremen elder nodded, stepping back to allow the couple to seal their union.

Leto leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, lingering kiss that spoke of more than just duty or alliance. It was a promise—of love, of partnership, and of a future together, no matter what dangers lay ahead.

As the kiss ended, the hall erupted in applause, the sound filling the chamber as the guests celebrated the new union. Leto smiled at you, his heart full as he turned to the crowd, hand in yours, ready to face the world as husband and wife.

The celebration that followed was grand, as expected, with banquets and music filling the stronghold well into the night. Fremen, Atreides soldiers, and Targaryen warriors alike mingled together, enjoying the shared moment of peace and joy. The vast hallways were decorated with banners from both Houses, and the sound of instruments from both worlds blended harmoniously, a symbol of the unity that had been achieved.

As the night wore on, Leto found a moment to pull you aside, away from the prying eyes of guests. You stood together on one of the high terraces, overlooking the vast desert that stretched out before you. The stars above were bright, twinkling against the deep black of the Arrakis sky.

Leto turned to you, his hand still in yours, his voice soft but filled with emotion. “This is the beginning of something incredible, Daenys,” he said, his gaze locked on yours. “We’ve done what many thought impossible.”

You smiled, leaning into him. “We have. And we’ll continue to surprise them.”

He chuckled softly, pulling you closer. “I never imagined I’d be standing here, like this. But now, I can’t imagine being anywhere else.”

From a distance, Paul, Gurney, and Duncan stood on one of the smaller terraces, overlooking the grand festivities below. The sounds of laughter and music filled the air, but their attention was elsewhere—focused on Leto and you, as the Duke gently pulled you aside for a moment of privacy. The newlyweds stood together, just beyond the reach of the crowd, silhouetted against the desert sky, their conversation private but their bond visible to anyone who cared to look.

Duncan watched the scene with a sly grin, nudging Paul lightly with his elbow. "Well, looks like the Duke has finally found someone to keep him on his toes," he said, his tone light with amusement. "Can’t say I blame him."

Paul, who had spent the last several months getting to know you better, chuckled softly. "She’s strong—stronger than anyone I’ve met. Father’s in good hands."

Gurney, standing with his arms crossed, nodded in agreement. His usually gruff demeanor softened ever so slightly as he watched the two of you together. "The lass will do the Duke some good," he remarked, his voice tinged with affection. "She’s got that fire in her, but there’s a kindness too. Just what Leto needs."

Duncan smiled at Gurney’s rare moment of sentimentality. "Is that so, Gurney? You sound like you’re getting soft on us."

Gurney shot him a look, though there was no real heat in it. "Don’t push your luck, Duncan."

Paul couldn’t help but smile at the camaraderie between the two men. It was a rare moment of levity in a life that had been filled with far too much uncertainty and danger. His eyes, however, remained on you and Leto. There was something about the way you both stood together, the ease with which you interacted, that struck a chord in him. It was clear that the bond between you and his father was deeper than politics or duty—it was something real, something Paul hadn’t seen before in his father.

As the conversation between the three men continued, Aenys Targaryen walked nearby, flanked by his sons, Aelor and Maelor. The Dragonlord’s eyes lingered on the scene, but his thoughts seemed elsewhere. He walked with slow, deliberate steps, his expression more thoughtful than celebratory.

"It’s a shame your mother couldn’t be here to witness this," Aenys remarked quietly to his sons, his voice carrying the weight of his thoughts. "She would have been proud to see how far we’ve come, how our House is forging new paths." His tone was soft but tinged with regret, the burden of his wife’s absence weighing on him.

Aelor, ever the calm and measured son, nodded solemnly. "She’s bedridden, but I’m sure she knows, Father. She would have wanted to be here, but her health…"

Maelor, less guarded than his older brother, spoke with a more direct tone. "She would have loved this. Seeing Daenys marry into another powerful House, especially one like Atreides." He glanced over at the crowd below, where you and Leto stood. "But we know she’s with us in spirit."

Aenys let out a sigh, his gaze briefly flickering to the stars. "I hope so. The future of our House is bright, but it comes with its own burdens. I wonder how much of that she truly understands."

The Dragonlord’s voice trailed off as they continued walking, the weight of responsibility ever present on his shoulders. Though he spoke of his wife’s absence, there was an undeniable pride in his voice when he spoke of you. The alliance between Targaryen and Atreides was more than just a political move—it was a union that had the potential to reshape the galaxy. But even in the midst of such monumental events, Aenys couldn't help but lament the personal moments his wife was missing.

Jassica wandered the fringes of the festivities, her steps unsteady with the weight of her thoughts. The flickering lanterns that illuminated the courtyard felt like a distant blur as her mind raced, filled with the unsettling awareness that the noose of the Sisterhood was tightening around her neck—and worse, around Paul’s.

Since they had arrived on Arrakis, Jessica had watched with growing unease as Paul began to embrace the desert, to find his purpose in realizing Leto’s dreams of reshaping this hostile planet. And now, with this cursed alliance between Atreides and Targaryen, Paul’s path seemed to drift further from the one the Sisterhood had laid out for him. The dream they had carefully crafted for generations was slipping from her grasp, and there was nothing more dangerous than a plan coming undone.

Jessica’s eyes scanned the crowd, moving over the various guests with a distant detachment until her gaze landed on you. You were standing not far from Leto, but your attention was elsewhere, your body language suggesting that you were briefly disengaged from the festivities. For a moment, Jessica hesitated. She had been putting this off, avoiding what she knew needed to be said, but tonight… tonight, the time had come.

The fear she felt wasn’t just for herself or for Paul, but for what the future held if she didn’t confront you. And underneath that fear was something darker—an unsettling truth that gnawed at her: you were immune to her Bene Gesserit powers, to the subtle manipulations that had guided so many others. The Targaryens, with their dragon blood, were immune to the Sisterhood’s control. You couldn’t be bent or swayed by the techniques that had served her for so long.

She straightened her posture, swallowing her trepidation as she moved toward you. The crowd parted easily for her as she approached, the others unaware of the silent storm brewing beneath her composed exterior. When she reached you, her voice was calm, but the urgency was unmistakable.

"Daenys," Jessica began, her tone measured, "I need to speak with you."

You turned to her, your expression neutral but alert, as if sensing the weight of what was to come. There was a brief pause between you, the distant sounds of the celebration fading as a strange stillness settled between you two.

"I know what this is about," you said, your voice steady, not needing to hear the words. "You want to talk about Paul."

Jessica’s gaze sharpened, though she forced herself to remain calm. "You’ve become close to him. Closer than I would have liked."

You gave a slight nod. "Paul has questions, and I’ve answered them. I’ve been honest with him. Something your Sisterhood doesn’t seem to value as much as secrecy."

Jessica stiffened at the mention of the Sisterhood, feeling the unspoken accusation laced in your words. It was true, of course, but it wasn’t something she could admit openly. Not to you, not now.

"This isn’t about honesty," she said, her voice tightening. "It’s about influence. You know what Paul is meant for. What his future is supposed to be. You—your people—have derailed everything. You’ve changed his path."

You met her gaze evenly, unflinching. "Perhaps his path was never meant to be the one you planned. Paul isn’t a tool in your game, Jessica. He has a mind of his own. Maybe it’s time you realized that."

The air between you grew heavy, a silent battle of wills, but Jessica knew there was no use in trying to manipulate you. You were immune to her tricks, her subtle influence. The Bene Gesserit had tried for generations to touch the Targaryens, but your bloodline, steeped in the fire of dragons, was beyond their reach.

Still, she couldn’t let this go. She couldn’t stand by and watch as her son’s destiny slipped further and further from the Sisterhood’s control.

"Do you even understand what’s at stake?" Jessica’s voice lowered, her frustration spilling over. "What your presence here, your influence on Paul, could mean for him? For all of us?"

You studied her for a long moment, your lilac eyes unwavering. "I know more than you think, Jessica," you replied, your voice soft but firm. "I know that your Sisterhood has spent generations trying to create a weapon—a person who can bend the future to their will. Paul may be part of that plan, but he’s not yours to control."

Jessica’s breath caught at your words, and for the first time, she felt truly outmatched. It wasn’t just that you were immune to her powers; it was that you saw through her in a way that unnerved her. You knew the deeper game, the one she had tried so hard to keep hidden.

"I won’t let you take him from me," Jessica said, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and anger. "I won’t let you sever him from his destiny."

You stepped closer, your expression softening, though your voice remained resolute. "I’m not taking Paul from you. But maybe it’s time you let him decide his own destiny. Let him be the man he was meant to be, not the weapon you want him to become."

The words hung in the air, heavy with truth and challenge. Jessica stood there, feeling the weight of her failure—her inability to control this situation, to bend it to her will. And she knew, in that moment, that she had lost the battle she hadn’t even realized she was fighting.

Without another word, you turned and walked away, leaving Jessica standing alone amidst the celebration, the sounds of joy and laughter feeling distant and hollow. She had played the game for so long, but tonight, she realized that the rules had changed.

And the Sisterhood would not forgive her for it.

As Jessica stood there, she glanced toward Leto, who was now laughing quietly with Aenys and the others, and she understood with cold clarity that her time of influence over House Atreides was coming to an end.

Her son was slipping away, just as Leto had.

At the center of the hall, Stilgar was locked in an amusing debate with Serus Ix and his sister Xyla Ix, their exchange drawing the attention of many nearby. The topic? Something as trivial as desert hydrophonics and whether Ixian technology could outlast Fremen ingenuity in the harsh conditions of Arrakis.

"I’m telling you," Stilgar said with his usual gruffness, his arms crossed, "you could drop your fancy machines into the desert, and in a week, the sand would eat them alive. There is no machine you’ve made that could survive the heat and the worms."

Serus raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the challenge. "Oh, come now, Stilgar. Our machines are built for extremes. You underestimate us! What do you think keeps those harvesters running day after day?"

"The sweat of the Fremen, that’s what," Stilgar shot back with a grin, and a wave of laughter rippled through the room.

Leto and Daenys stood nearby, watching the lighthearted exchange. Leto’s arm rested lightly around your waist, his posture relaxed as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. It had been a long time since the Duke had allowed himself such a moment of peace, and your presence at his side made it all the more precious.

"Who do you think will win this argument?" Leto asked quietly, an amused smile playing at his lips.

You smiled, your gaze fixed on the lively debate. "I’d say it’s a tie. Serus won’t back down, but Stilgar has the wit and the desert on his side."

Leto chuckled softly. "I think you might be right."

The laughter from the debate drew the attention of those around them, but the mood remained light, even as Duncan approached from the far side of the room, his usual composed demeanor softened by the humor in the air. Paul sat nearby, observing it all with the quiet fascination of someone absorbing every detail.

After a moment, you turned to Leto, your eyes sparkling with an idea. "Tomorrow," you said, your voice playful, "I’m taking you to ride with me on Vexiae."

Leto, caught entirely off guard, nearly choked on his drink. He sputtered, setting the glass down with wide eyes, a bit of wine trickling down the side of his mouth. "You—you want me to what?"

Across the room, Duncan, who had heard the comment, barely managed to stifle his laughter, his shoulders shaking as he pretended to be deeply interested in something else. Paul, watching his father’s reaction, grinned widely, thoroughly amused by the prospect.

Even Aenys, who had been in conversation with Aelor, turned his head just enough to smirk at Leto’s reaction, though he said nothing. It was clear he found the idea as amusing as anyone else.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at Leto’s surprise, leaning in closer to him. "Oh, come now, Duke. You said you wanted to understand my world better, didn’t you?"

"I didn’t mean riding a dragon!" Leto exclaimed, still trying to process the idea. He wiped his mouth, glancing around the room to see everyone watching with varying degrees of amusement.

You shrugged, your eyes dancing with mischief. "It’s the best way to see the desert."

"Or fall to my death," Leto muttered, though there was a glimmer of excitement beneath his protest.

"Vexiae won’t let that happen," you reassured him, a knowing smile playing at your lips. "Besides, you trust me, don’t you?"

Leto met your gaze, his eyes softening as he realized there was no escaping this. "I do," he admitted with a sigh, shaking his head with an affectionate smile. "I just didn’t think you’d try to kill me before the honeymoon."

More laughter erupted around them as the others enjoyed the playful banter between the Duke and his new bride. Duncan, no longer able to hold back, finally let out a full laugh. "You’ll be fine, Leto. Just hold on tight and keep your eyes open."

"Easy for you to say," Leto grumbled good-naturedly, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward in amusement.

Aenys finally joined in, his voice rich with humor. "Don’t worry, Leto. You’ll get used to it after the first drop."

"The first drop?" Leto looked at Aenys in alarm, but the Dragonlord merely gave him a pat on the shoulder before turning back to his conversation with Aelor.

You leaned closer, your voice soft and teasing. "Tomorrow, at sunrise. Be ready."

Leto sighed again, but this time there was no real reluctance in his expression—just a mix of affection and nervous anticipation. He smiled at you, his heart full, despite the uncertainty that came with your adventurous spirit.

"All right, Daenys," he said with a resigned chuckle, "I’ll be ready."

The night air of Arrakeen was cool, a rare relief from the heat of the desert, as Leto and Daenys made their way through the quiet halls of the stronghold. The celebrations outside continued, but the two of you had slipped away, eager for the privacy that awaited behind the doors of your chambers.

As the door closed behind you, the world beyond seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of you bathed in the soft, warm glow of the lanterns that flickered along the walls. The silence was filled with anticipation, the quiet intimacy of the moment drawing you both closer.

Leto turned to you, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your heart skip. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you gently against him, and in that moment, all the formality of the day melted away. His fingers brushed against your skin, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver through you.

“I can’t believe we’re here,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “After everything… we’re finally alone.”

You smiled softly, lifting your hand to cup his cheek. “Alone at last.”

The kiss that followed was slow, deliberate—filled with a passion that had been building for what felt like an eternity. His lips moved against yours with a tenderness that belied the hunger beneath, and you responded in kind, deepening the kiss until the world outside ceased to exist. There was nothing now but the warmth of his body against yours, the steady thrum of your heartbeats in sync.

As you kissed, Leto’s hands began to roam, slipping beneath the layers of fabric that still clung to your bodies. Your clothing fell away, piece by piece, until there was nothing between you but bare skin. The heat of your bodies mingled, and his touch, so gentle at first, became more insistent, his need for you growing with every passing second.

Without breaking the kiss, you guided him toward the bed, your lips never leaving his. The room seemed to blur around you as you moved, your breaths quickening in time with the building desire between you. His hands were firm yet tender as they explored every inch of you, learning the curves of your body, savoring the way you responded to his touch.

When you finally reached the bed, Leto lowered you onto the soft sheets, his body pressing against yours with a weight that felt both comforting and exhilarating. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a line of fire in their wake, and you arched into him, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer.

The night was filled with passion, wild and untamed, yet underpinned by something deeper—love. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered word was a testament to the bond you had forged, one that transcended the political alliance that had brought you together. This was something real, something raw, something that neither of you had expected but had both come to cherish.

As your bodies moved together, the world outside faded into nothingness. There was only the two of you, lost in each other, in the rhythm of your shared breaths, in the heat that built between you until it reached its inevitable climax.

When it was over, you lay in the quiet aftermath, the sheets tangled around your bodies, your skin still warm and slick from the exertion of your lovemaking. Leto’s arm was draped over your waist, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin as he gazed at you with a soft smile that made your heart swell.

“You should sleep,” you whispered, your voice still breathless. “You’ll need your strength for tomorrow… for Vexiae.”

Leto chuckled, the sound low and warm. “You want to become a widow after one day of marriage, is that it?”

You laughed, a light sound that filled the room, leaning in to kiss him again, your lips brushing against his in a tender caress. “I won’t let you fall, Leto. Trust me.”

“I do,” he murmured, his fingers tightening slightly around you. “I trust you more than anyone.”

You kissed him again, softer this time, a promise of more to come. As you lay in the quiet of your shared chambers, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s arms, the weight of the world outside seemed to disappear. For now, there was only this—only the two of you, together.

As the night grew late and the last echoes of laughter and music began to fade into the desert winds, Paul wandered away from the remaining guests, his steps deliberate as he sought out the one person who had distanced herself from the festivities. He found his mother, Jessica, standing alone near the far edge of the courtyard, her figure silhouetted against the moonlit dunes beyond.

She stood with her arms folded tightly, her gaze distant, as though the weight of everything she carried was too much to bear. Paul watched her for a moment, feeling the tension radiating from her. He knew the burden she carried—it was one of fear, control, and the knowledge that the future was slipping away from her grasp.

Taking a deep breath, Paul approached, his presence calm but resolute. "Mother," he said softly.

Jessica didn’t turn to face him immediately, but he saw the slight stiffness in her shoulders as she acknowledged his presence. For a long moment, she remained silent, staring out into the night. When she finally spoke, her voice was laced with frustration and something deeper—fear.

"Paul," she said quietly, "both you and your father are making a mistake."

Paul’s expression remained steady as he came to stand beside her. He had been expecting this, knowing how deeply his mother had resisted the path they were on. He had seen it in her eyes, felt it in her presence ever since the Targaryens had entered their lives. And yet, he knew this path was the only one that mattered.

"You’re wrong, Mother," he said, his voice unwavering. "Without Daenys, Father would be dead."

Jessica finally turned to him at that, her eyes searching his face, looking for something—doubt, hesitation, anything that might confirm her own fears. But Paul’s conviction was unshakable, and that, more than anything, unsettled her. His words held such finality, such certainty.

"You can’t be certain of that," Jessica said, her voice sharper now. "There are too many futures, too many possibilities. You’re too young to understand how easily things can shift. How quickly everything can fall apart."

Paul held her gaze, his own eyes filled with a quiet intensity that Jessica hadn’t seen in him before. "I’ve seen it," he said simply, his words cutting through the doubt like a blade. "In every other future, Father dies. In every single one—except this one."

The certainty in his voice made Jessica pause. There was something in the way he spoke, something that felt almost prophetic, and for a moment, she couldn’t find her voice. Her son—her son, who she had raised and trained, who carried the hopes of the Sisterhood—was slipping away from her control. And what frightened her the most was that she didn’t know how to stop it.

"You’ve seen it," she repeated, almost to herself, her mind racing as she tried to process what he was saying. "The future…"

Paul nodded, his expression softening just a fraction. "Yes, Mother. I’ve seen it. And Daenys—she’s the key. She saved him. Without her, none of this would have been possible."

Jessica’s eyes hardened, and her fear took on a sharper edge. "The Sisterhood will not forgive this. You know what they want, Paul. What they’ve planned. This alliance, this marriage—it’s a betrayal of everything they’ve worked for."

Paul’s lips pressed into a thin line, his own frustrations beginning to surface. He had always known the Bene Gesserit had their own agenda, but the more he saw, the more he understood that their plans were never meant to protect him or his father. They had always been about control—control of the future, of bloodlines, of destinies. And he was done being a pawn.

"They would have betrayed us too, Mother," Paul said firmly. "They would have left us to the mercy of the Harkonnens and the Emperor. They’ve been playing their own game, and you know it. You’ve always known it."

Jessica flinched at his words, the truth of them striking too close to home. She had spent years walking the fine line between loyalty to the Sisterhood and love for Leto and Paul. But now, with the future hanging in the balance, that line had blurred beyond recognition.

Her silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken fears and the weight of a lifetime of decisions. Paul watched her, his heart heavy with the knowledge that their paths were diverging, that he could no longer follow the course she had laid out for him. His future—his true future—was his to shape, not the Sisterhood’s.

"You don’t have to agree with me, Mother," Paul said softly, "but I need you to understand. This is the only way forward. I won’t let them control me—or Father—anymore."

Jessica’s eyes shimmered with emotion, and for a moment, Paul thought she might say something—something to bridge the growing gap between them. But instead, she turned away, her face set in a mask of quiet resignation.

"Just be careful, Paul," she said, her voice low and pained. "Be careful where you place your trust. There are forces at work here that neither of us can control."

Paul nodded, understanding the warning in her words, but knowing that his course was already set. The future was uncertain, but in this moment, one thing was clear: his path lay with Leto and Daenys, and the world they were trying to build.

And whatever the Sisterhood had planned, Paul would no longer be a part of it.

As the first light of dawn crept over the horizon Leto found himself standing beside you at the edge of the courtyard. The air was cool, still tinged with the lingering chill of the night, but there was an electric hum of excitement in the air—one that had been building ever since you had made your proposal the night before.

Leto glanced sideways at you, and despite his best efforts to appear calm and composed, there was a hint of nervousness in his eyes. "Are you absolutely sure about this?" he asked, his voice betraying just a touch of anxiety.

You smiled, your lilac eyes gleaming in the early morning light. "Don’t worry, Leto. I’ve done this a thousand times. Vexiae is more than capable."

Leto swallowed, clearly trying to convince himself that this was a perfectly reasonable activity for a newlywed Duke to be undertaking. "Right," he muttered, more to himself than to you. "What could possibly go wrong?"

From the steps behind you, Duncan, Gurney, Aenys, Paul, and Hawat watched the preparations with varying degrees of amusement and disbelief. Duncan crossed his arms over his chest, grinning from ear to ear as he leaned over to Gurney. "I’m betting five solari that the Duke screams at least once before they hit the desert."

Gurney chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, you’ll hear more than a scream, lad. If the Duke survives this without wetting himself, I’ll eat my stillsuit."

"Your faith in the Duke is inspiring," Paul said, though the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips showed he shared their amusement.

Hawat, always the pragmatist, eyed the dragon with a mixture of fascination and concern. "If the Duke falls off, we’ll need to ready an emergency team," he muttered under his breath. "I’ve seen some strange things in my time, but this…"

"You worry too much, Hawat," Aenys said with a wry grin, his arms crossed as he watched the scene unfold. "She won’t let him fall. Probably."

At that moment, Vexiae, your dragon, let out a deep, resonant growl that reverberated through the air, shaking the very ground beneath their feet. The magnificent creature spread her wings, her molten-red scales catching the rising sun, casting a golden glow over her sleek, powerful form. The sight was awe-inspiring, even for those who had seen dragons before.

Leto stared up at the beast, then at you, then back at the beast. "You’re sure about this?" he asked again, his voice cracking slightly.

"Yes," you said with a laugh, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. "Trust me. Vexiae won’t let you fall."

Leto took a deep breath, straightened his posture, and nodded. "All right then. Let’s do this."

With your help, Leto climbed onto Vexiae’s back, his movements a bit stiff as he tried to settle himself into the saddle behind you. His hands gripped the edges of the saddle with white-knuckled determination, and it was clear to anyone watching that this was going to be a test of his composure.

You turned slightly, giving him a wink. "Hold on tight."

Before Leto could respond, Vexiae’s wings snapped open with a thunderous whoosh, and with a powerful leap, the dragon took to the sky. The rush of wind hit them immediately, the ground falling away as the city of Arrakeen became a distant blur beneath them.

"DID SHE JUST TAKE OFF WITHOUT WARNING?!" Leto’s voice carried through the wind, high-pitched and panicked, as he clung to the saddle for dear life.

Duncan, Gurney, and the others burst into laughter as they watched the dragon soar higher, Leto’s shouts of terror echoing back down to them. "There it is," Duncan said with a grin, slapping Gurney on the shoulder. "That’s the scream I was waiting for."

Gurney wiped a tear from his eye, barely able to contain his own laughter. "Oh, Leto's going to have stories to tell after this one."

Paul, still smirking, crossed his arms as he watched the dragon loop gracefully over the city, heading toward the deep desert. "He’ll get used to it," he said, more to himself than anyone else.

High above, as the city below began to shrink into a collection of sand-colored specks, Leto finally found his voice again. "I’m starting to think this was a terrible idea!"

You laughed, leaning back slightly so he could hear you better. "You’ll be fine! Just don’t let go!"

Leto let out a shaky breath, his knuckles still white from his death grip on the saddle. But slowly, as the wind rushed past them and the desert opened up beneath them, the sheer majesty of the experience began to sink in. The vast expanse of Arrakis stretched out as far as the eye could see, and the sun bathed the sands in a golden light, making the dunes shimmer like waves on the ocean.

"I… I can’t believe it," Leto muttered, his voice quieter now, filled with awe rather than fear. "This is incredible."

You smiled, glancing over your shoulder at him. "I told you, didn’t I?"

For the next few moments, they flew in peaceful silence, the wind rushing past them as Vexiae carried them effortlessly through the sky. Leto’s grip on the saddle slowly relaxed, and he even managed a tentative smile as they glided over the desert, the morning light casting long shadows across the dunes.

Back on the ground, Gurney shook his head, still grinning. "Well, I’ll be damned. Maybe he won’t need new trousers after all."

Aenys chuckled, watching as the dragon disappeared over the horizon. "He’ll be a proper dragonrider before you know it."

As Leto and you soared through the sky, the fear that had gripped him earlier began to melt away, replaced by a sense of freedom he hadn’t known before. It was exhilarating, terrifying, and beautiful all at once. And for the first time in a long while, Leto felt truly alive.

As they circled back toward the city, Leto leaned closer to you, his voice softer now, filled with wonder. "I think I’m starting to see why you love this so much."

You smiled, turning your head slightly to meet his gaze. "I knew you would."

And with that, the two of you soared back toward Arrakeen, high above the sands of Arrakis, where the world felt limitless, and the future—whatever it held—seemed just a little brighter.

The chambers aboard the Harkonnen flagship were surounded by cold steel walls. Baron Vladimir Harkonnen sat at the head of the table, his massive form hunched forward, eyes gleaming with malevolent intent. His ever-present suspensors hummed faintly, carrying his bulk just enough to make his movements fluid despite his size. His nephew Feyde-Rautha leaned against a pillar nearby, his smirk betraying his impatience, while his brutish brother Raban stood near the doorway, looking as though he’d rather be anywhere else. The Baron’s Mentat, Pieter De Vries, hovered close by, his pale eyes glinting with the cold, mechanical calculation of a man whose mind was a maze of schemes.

On the table before them was a holographic display of Arrakis, its cities and territories illuminated in sharp detail. The Targaryen base was marked, and so too was Arrakeen, where House Atreides still held firm. For now.

"So," the Baron began, his voice a slow, oily rumble that seemed to fill every corner of the room, "we have finally perfected it." His thick fingers tapped idly against the armrest of his floating chair, a look of deep satisfaction crossing his bloated features. "A weapon that can take down a dragon."

The words hung in the air, heavy with sinister promise. Feyde’s smirk widened as he straightened from his lazy slouch, his eyes gleaming with the prospect of revenge. Ever since that encounter on the frozen wasteland of Arctis, the reader had haunted him. The way she had humiliated him—fleeing from him, slipping through his fingers like sand—had gnawed at him endlessly. Now, he would have his chance.

"Finally," Feyde drawled, running a hand through his hair. "When can we strike? I’ve been waiting long enough to deal with that dragon-riding witch. I’ve chased her across the stars, and yet she keeps slipping away."

The Baron gave his nephew a look of mild amusement, his lips curling into a cruel smile. "Patience, my dear Feyde. Patience. All things in time."

Raban, ever the brute, grunted from his place near the door. "Just tell us when to hit them. I’m tired of sitting around."

Pieter stepped forward, his eyes gleaming as he addressed the group. "The weapon is ready, but we must move carefully. It fires concentrated bursts of energy capable of disrupting even the strongest shields—Targaryen or otherwise. A direct hit on a dragon’s wings or its vital points will bring it crashing down from the sky. But we must keep this… advantage… to ourselves."

The Baron nodded, his eyes narrowing as his fingers drummed against the table. "Indeed. We can’t let the Emperor or his Sardaukar get wind of this. If Shaddam learns of the weapon, he’ll want it for himself, and I have no intention of giving him such power."

Feyde’s expression darkened. "Then what’s the plan, Uncle? I’ve waited long enough to settle this score."

The Baron glanced at him, his amusement returning. "Eager, are we? Very well. We will strike soon, but not yet. There’s still much to be done. House Atreides is strong, and with the Targaryens at their side, we cannot afford to be careless."

Pieter folded his hands behind his back, his voice cool and methodical. "We must weaken them first. Isolate them. Draw them out where they are vulnerable. Once the Atreides and Targaryens are separated, we can strike the dragons. When they are grounded, they will be nothing more than myth turned to ash."

"Grounded?" Feyde’s grin widened at the thought. "That’s all I need. Once that dragon is out of the sky, she’s mine."

Raban grunted again, his arms crossed. "And the Emperor?"

The Baron waved a dismissive hand. "Let the Emperor deal with his Sardaukar. He doesn’t need to know what we’re planning, not yet. Shaddam thinks he controls the game, but we’ve always played by our own rules. The Targaryens—dragons or not—will fall, just like House Atreides will."

The room was silent for a moment as the weight of the plan settled over them. The Baron’s gaze flicked between his nephews, his Mentat, and the holographic image of Arrakis flickering before them. His plans, always shifting, always moving toward his ultimate goal, were nearing fruition.

"Once we strike," the Baron said slowly, "we will take everything from Leto. His House, his alliances, his future. And as for the dragon girl," he added, turning his cold gaze to Feyde, "you’ll have your moment with her. But don’t make the mistake of underestimating her again. She has proven… resilient."

Feyde’s eyes gleamed dangerously. "This time, she won’t get away. I’ll make sure of it."

The Baron smiled darkly. "See that you do."

Pieter nodded in agreement, his mechanical mind already working through the details. "Our forces are nearly ready. Once we move, it will be swift. Silent. We cannot afford to leave loose ends."

The Baron’s smile widened, his fingers steepling beneath his chin. "Good. Then it begins soon. But remember, this weapon—this power—stays with us. No one else must know, not even the Emperor. The time for secrets is upon us, and those secrets will be our victory."

As the meeting drew to a close, the Baron’s eyes gleamed with the dark satisfaction of a man who knew he held the upper hand. For now, the Atreides and Targaryens were united, but soon… soon, they would fall.

And the dragons would burn.

The soft hiss of the cylinder's seal being broken echoed in Leto's private study as Hawat handed him the sealed message bearing the unmistakable sigil of House Corrino. The weight of the small object felt heavier than it should have, as if the Emperor’s presence was already looming in the room, pressing down on everything with unseen authority.

Leto unrolled the message, his eyes quickly scanning the formal wording. His brow furrowed as he read further, tension building in the set of his jaw.

The Emperor, Shaddam IV, was coming to Arrakis in a few weeks. Accompanied by representatives from both The Guild and the Bene Gesserit Sisterhood. It wasn’t a casual visit, and it certainly wasn’t an admission of defeat after the failed attack on House Atreides and the Targaryens. No, this visit had a purpose, one cloaked in polite diplomacy but undoubtedly laced with veiled threats.

Leto set the message down on the table, the edges of the parchment curling as it settled. He exhaled slowly, his eyes dark with frustration. "What do you make of this, Hawat?"

The old Mentat, standing quietly by the window, didn’t answer immediately. He stared out at the dusty horizon of Arrakeen, the city still buzzing with activity below them, though everything felt strangely tense, like a coiled spring waiting to snap.

"Emperors don’t come to planets like Arrakis without purpose, my Lord," Hawat said at last, his voice low and contemplative. "And Shaddam doesn’t admit mistakes. If he’s coming, it’s because he believes he can still turn the situation in his favor. He’ll come with an offer. One that seems to benefit you, but in reality, it will only serve to strengthen his hold on the throne."

Leto’s hands clenched into fists, the muscles in his arms tightening as anger bubbled beneath his calm exterior. "His hold on the throne should be the last of his worries. After what he tried to pull with the Harkonnens, he should be on his knees asking for forgiveness."

"He’s not the type to kneel," Hawat said dryly. "No doubt the Guild and the Sisterhood will try to sway your decisions as well. They’ll each have their own interests, all woven into this elaborate web of power."

Leto stood abruptly, pacing the length of his study. His frustration boiled over, filling the air around him with an unspoken tension. "The Harkonnens are still out there. They’ve been spotted in the deep desert near the Targaryen base. They’re preparing for something—another strike, maybe."

He paused, his gaze darkening as his thoughts turned to you—Daenys. His wife. The mother of his unborn child. She had been spending more time at the Targaryen base recently, overseeing the expansions with her brothers, but there was always that underlying threat of danger, especially now with the news of the Harkonnens lurking nearby.

"And with Daenys pregnant..." Leto’s voice trailed off, the thought too bitter to finish. His anger simmered beneath the surface, but there was fear there too—fear for her, for their child, for everything they had fought to protect.

Hawat’s gaze softened slightly, though his demeanor remained composed. "We must prepare carefully, my Lord. The Emperor’s visit is not just about power—it’s about control. He knows your House has gained strength, especially with the Targaryen alliance. He’ll want to ensure that any threats to his reign are neutralized."

Leto stopped pacing, turning to face Hawat with a deep frown. "Neutralized?"

"Yes," Hawat said, nodding slowly. "He may offer you something that seems too good to refuse. Perhaps a guarantee of safety or some form of protection. But it will come at a cost. And if we’re not careful, that cost may be too high."

Leto clenched his fists, the frustration mounting. "The gall of him... to come here after all this. To dare show his face while the Harkonnens are still out there, plotting, while Daenys carries our child..."

Hawat stepped forward, his voice calm but firm. "This is why we must tread carefully. We can’t let our emotions guide us, my Lord. The Emperor is dangerous, and he won’t hesitate to exploit any weakness he sees. He’ll test you—test us all."

Leto exhaled slowly, trying to temper his rage, to think clearly through the anger that clouded his judgment. "We’ll need to be prepared for anything."

"Indeed," Hawat agreed, folding his hands behind his back. "And we must assume the Harkonnens will use the Emperor’s visit to their advantage as well. We can’t let our guard down. Not for a moment."

The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of what was coming pressing down on both men like a suffocating cloud. Leto’s mind raced, the possibilities spinning in his thoughts like a storm. The Emperor’s visit would change everything, for better or worse. And in the meantime, the shadow of the Harkonnens still loomed large, a threat that hadn’t been fully eradicated.

Leto ran a hand through his hair, staring out the window at the city below. "Make sure all preparations are in place for the Emperor’s arrival," he said finally, his voice quiet but filled with resolve. "And have Vaegor’s men keep a close watch on any Harkonnen activity. If they move on the Targaryen base again, I want to know about it immediately."

Hawat nodded, already planning the necessary precautions in his mind. "I’ll see to it personally."

As Hawat turned to leave, Leto remained at the window, his gaze fixed on the endless horizon of the desert. 

He thought of Daenys again, her strength, her fire, and the child they were about to bring into the world. He would fight for them, for his House, for their future—no matter what the Emperor had planned.

And if the Harkonnens dared to strike again, they would find themselves facing not just the fury of House Atreides, but the wrath of dragons.

...

"They are twins. A boy and a girl."

You pause for a moment, letting his words hang in the still air of the room. The flickering light of the map display casts soft shadows on the stone walls of the Targaryen base, but neither of you pays attention to it.

"I know," you reply softly, your voice barely above a whisper. The calm acceptance in your tone belies the weight of the conversation.

Paul stares at the holographic projection, but his mind is clearly elsewhere. "I dream of them," he continues after a pause, his voice distant, as though he’s trying to make sense of the fragments that flit through his mind. "A brother and a sister. I see them sometimes, as if they’ve already lived. It’s strange... in another life, they would be something else to me entirely."

You turn your gaze toward him, studying the lines of thought etched into his face. There’s an understanding between the two of you—one born from shared experiences of visions, dreams, and glimpses of a future that might never come to pass. You’ve felt it too, the pull of a destiny that you’ve long learned to accept.

"I dreamt of them once as well," you admit. The memory of that fleeting vision stirs inside you, like an echo from another time. "But my dreams aren’t like yours."

Paul shifts slightly, his eyes narrowing as if trying to grasp something that remains just out of reach. "The Bene Gesserit always said my dreams were tied to their plans. But I see things they don’t. Paths they never considered." His voice trails off, and for a moment, it’s as though the two of you are standing at the crossroads of fate, caught between what is and what might be.

You nod slowly, understanding the complexity of his burden. You’ve always known the weight that comes with having visions, but Paul’s are unique—crafted by powers beyond anything you’ve encountered. It makes you wonder how much of this world is already written, and how much is still yours to shape.

Before either of you can speak again, Aelor strides into the room, his expression sharp with urgency. "The Harkonnens," he begins, his voice tight. "They seem very interested in the system of caverns not far from here."

You look up at him, immediately alert. "What kind of interest?"

"They've been surveying the area," Aelor replies. "It's close enough to the base that it’s making Maelor uneasy. We’re going to investigate."

You straighten, preparing to join them without hesitation. "Then I’m coming with you."

But Aelor shakes his head, his gaze firm. "No, you’re not. It's too dangerous, especially now. You need to stay here."

Your jaw tightens, irritation flaring at his overprotectiveness. "I'm not some helpless bystander. I can handle myself."

"I know you can," Aelor says, his tone softening, "but you have other things to think about now. You can't take unnecessary risks, especially with the child coming."

The weight of his words settles over you, though it’s not enough to quell the fire in your chest. You know he’s right—part of you understands that your role is shifting, that there are bigger responsibilities to consider. But another part of you, the part that grew up leading skirmishes with dragons, rebels against the idea of staying behind while others head into danger.

Paul watches the exchange quietly, sensing the tension between you and Aelor. His eyes flicker to you, sympathy in his gaze, though he says nothing.

Aelor steps forward, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Stay here," he says, quieter now. "We’ll handle it. We can’t afford to lose you, not now."

You nod reluctantly, knowing that arguing won’t change his mind. Aelor turns and heads toward the exit, leaving you and Paul in the dimly lit room, the tension still simmering.

"I wonder what they’re really after," Paul muses aloud, breaking the silence. He glances toward the map display, his thoughts shifting back to the broader conflict. "It’s never just about territory with the Harkonnens."

"No," you agree, your gaze following the same path. "It's always more than it seems."

...

The caverns beneath the Harkonnen control were dim and humid, the air thick with the stench of sweat and damp rock. Feyde-Rautha Harkonnen paced restlessly at the mouth of the cavern, his eyes flicking toward the deeper shadows as his men prepared for their next move. His mind was ablaze with thoughts of revenge, power, and glory. Arrakis was theirs to reclaim.

And then she appeared.

A flicker of red from the shadows caught his eye, and Feyde’s hand instinctively went to the blade at his hip. The Red Woman stepped into the cavern, her scarlet robes flowing like molten fire as she moved with a grace that seemed out of place in such a bleak and grim setting. Feyde’s men, hardened as they were, shifted uneasily. She had been in Emperor Shaddam’s custody, in the hands of the Sisterhood, and now she stood before them—free.

Feyde’s eyes narrowed. "You’re supposed to be in chains, priestess. How did you manage to slip away from the Emperor’s clutches?"

The Red Woman, her eyes glowing faintly with a strange fire, met his gaze without fear. "Chains are for those who serve without purpose. And I serve a power greater than any emperor or sisterhood."

Feyde sneered, stepping forward, his amusement barely contained. "A power greater than the Emperor? The Sardaukar will crush your Lord of Light as easily as they would crush a worm under their heel."

Her lips curled into a slight smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes. "You’re dabbling in forces you don’t understand, Fayde Harkonnen. Your ambition blinds you. If your House does not turn away from this path, it will crumble into the dust of forgotten histories."

Feyde laughed, the sound echoing through the cavern. "Arrakis is ours. Shaddam was a fool to hand it to the Duke, even as part of his elaborate trap. We’ll reclaim it soon enough, and no mystic flames or prophecies will stop us."

The Red Woman’s eyes darkened, her voice taking on a weight that chilled the air around her. "The power of the spice... its time is coming to an end. No matter how much the old Houses cling to it, no matter how tightly the Guild tries to bind it to their will, its influence is fading. Something else is rising—something you cannot control. The currency of the universe will no longer be melange."

Feyde’s amusement soured into irritation, his patience wearing thin. He wasn’t one to waste time on mystical ramblings. "Enough," he snapped. "You’re nothing but a madwoman preaching doom and gloom. Kill her."

His men surged forward, weapons raised, eager to carry out the order. But the Red Woman didn’t flinch. She raised her hands, and in an instant, the cavern lit up with flames, swirling around her like a protective barrier. The heat was intense, pushing the soldiers back, their skin singed as the flames grew hotter.

"You will not see me die by your hands," she said calmly, her voice echoing through the chamber. "But know this, Feyde. Your time is running out."

Before Feyde could react, the flames roared higher, swallowing her figure completely. When they died down moments later, she was gone—vanished into thin air. The cavern was left in silence, save for the crackling embers that still clung to the rocky walls.

Feyde’s frustration boiled over, his face twisting into a snarl. He slammed his fist into the nearest rock wall, cursing under his breath. "Get back to work," he barked at his men. "We proceed as planned. I don’t care what that witch says—Arrakis will be ours again. The spice will continue to flow, and I’ll see to it personally."

As his soldiers scrambled to obey, Feyde turned his gaze toward the cavern's exit, his mind racing with thoughts of the Red Woman’s cryptic warning. He didn’t believe in her prophecies or her fiery theatrics, but something about her words left a nagging unease in the back of his mind.

Determined to shake it off, Feyde steeled himself, his jaw clenched with renewed focus. He would prove her wrong. The Harkonnens had always survived, always risen from the ashes of every defeat.

And this time would be no different.

[cherrypikkins]

Here is my contribution to today's prompt from @fe-oc-week ! Oct 14 - Supports

with some more Kitt art and lore :3

cw body horror, death

I will also be linking some old support art soon :3

and once again for more lore, take a look below the cut!

The Burgess Family It is difficult to pinpoint exactly when the family of Burgess arrived at Annwen, though in likelihood they appeared some time after the defeat of Nemesis, and well after Gwyn was laid to rest. Though they claimed to be a family of merchants, many suspected that they were refugees from remnant factions of the now dismantled Agarthan empire. Gwyn, the founder of the original city of Annwen, had been known to take in defectors of Agarthan origin. And so, in following the example of their departed hero, the people of Annwen accepted the merchant family into the fold, sheltering them from the Church of Seiros.

They settled in without trouble, bringing with them ancient artifacts stolen from the underground caches of their former civilization. These they offered up to the people of Annwen for safekeeping and communal use. Mostly, they included crafting implements that were used to forge armor, weave garments, and polish stones.

Among the artifacts was a curious knife, ordinary-looking in all appearances yet strangely versatile in various applications of craftsmanship. Villagers would often remark on how it would subtly change in appearance over time, but not in a way that signified normal wear and tear. There were times when it appeared to shift and transform before their very eyes, though many dismissed this as a trick of the light. Others believed that the knife was magical. But whenever the people of Annwen used it for their own purposes, there was never any trouble.

In any case, these artifacts enabled the people of Annwen to thrive independently, away from the Church and the Empire, as well as the Kingdom and the Alliance when they each formed years later. These contributions cemented the Burgess family's place in the village for ages thereafter, even enabling them to take on leadership and guidance roles within the village from time to time. Eventually, enough time passed such that not even their present day descendants could remember their Agarthan ancestry…

The Village at Lake Annwen - Part II Many followers of the Church of Seiros wondered why certain remote settlements were allowed to exist in Fodlan away from the enlightenment of Seiros' teachings. The village of Annwen, which Gwyn held sacred, was one such example before its destruction. In particular, Saint Cichol was known to forbid anyone from interfering with the affairs of the village by order of the Church. Even in recent years, Seteth has remained adamant on this stance. Only a handful of scholars and researchers have been allowed to visit on a provisional basis, on the condition that there was to be no proselytizing.

That was not to say that the people of Annwen did not pay respects to the Goddess - only that Seiros and the Four Saints were less prominent in their worship. Even the hero Gwyn, despite not trusting Seiros and her followers, had been known whisper prayers to the Goddess Sothis. And so, in following the example of their hero, the villagers of Annwen honored the Goddess in a manner wholly unique from the Central, Eastern, and Western Churches. For some reason, the Central Church has decided not to object to this, and allowed the people of Annwen to live peaceful lives of their own choosing. Such was the promise sworn by Saint Cichol to the hero Gwyn.

Perhaps this was one of the factors that led to its destruction, for it left the Church unaware and unable to intervene when mages from a more sinister faction began to make frequent visits, making their ill intentions known only once the people of Annwen were fully accustomed and trusting to their presence. Disguised as humble scholars, they were determined to retrieve the fabled Heart of Annwen for their own dark purposes. In a sudden and coordinated attack, they struck down any who dared stand in their way, burning the village to the ground in the process.

One can only imagine the wrath they would have faced if Gwyn were to witness the crimes inflicted upon their beloved village and its people. Perhaps this was why the survivors who managed to escape the initial attack decided with heavy hearts that the time had finally arrived to enact the Rite of Awakening, even at the cost of their own lives.

Though the Rite of Awakening was meant to revive Gwyn from their endless sleep, it is speculated that something more ancient and terrible was summoned forth instead. But what could have gone wrong? The only evidence is a peculiar knife that was found at the scene of the ritual. At first it was ordinary and innocuous in appearance. But once placed in Kitt's hands, it transformed into weapon resembling a Hero's Relic. As its power awakened, so did the rage and torment of the demonic creature whose bones and blood were used to forge it.

But as the legend goes, both hero and demon are one and the same - thus it can be argued that perhaps in some unrecognizable shape and form, Gwyn did return to life.

... A few months after Kitt was rescued by Seteth and Flayn, a handful of dark mages returned to the scene of Annwen's destruction to pick at the ruins, searching for clues on where a certain Crest Stone may be found. One by one they were hunted down and felled without mercy, while a scant few survivors fled back underground to tell the tale. How ironic that those who fancied themselves superior to gods and beasts alike would now flinch at having to contend with a ghost instead.

[phenioxflame]

Angel Wing Crystal Prime 2024 ref sheet

I have never simped over a character this much in my life. And I have no shame in admitting that.

[melishade]

Ladies, Gentlemen, and the Technicolor Rainbow in-between! I now present to you the summary of Attack on Prime up until chapter 93, which will come out on July 4th. So spoilers ahead for everything thus far!

Main Story

GO!

At the end of Transformers Prime: Predacons Rising, Optimus has merged his spark with the Allspark to prevent it from being devoured by Unicron. Because he can't separate the Allspark from his body, he has to sacrifice himself and become one with Primus in order to ensure life can flourish on Cybertron again. However, instead of being reincarnated one again, he is sent to the world of Attack on Titan through the power of divine intervention.

During this, Megatron has left Cybertron while the Autobots have remained on Cybertron to rebuild. Keep an eye on both.

Optimus is alerted to the destruction that is happening in Trost and immediately goes to help the humans and protect them from being devoured by titans. He ends up saving Armin after the teen witnesses Eren being devoured by a pure titan. Armin, a few moments later, tells Optimus of the Titan’s weakness being the nape of the neck.

Armin and Optimus work together, a few other things happen, Optimus and the Rouge Titan work together, turns out to be Eren, and more things happen but the point is that Eren and Optimus are able to work together to seal the hole in Trost and protect humanity.

Eren and Optimus’ trials happen separately, and both are handed over to the Survey Corps, where Optimus gets familiar with Eren, Hanji, Levi, Erwin, and a few other people. Optimus helps get energon. Optimus and Eren begin bonding, Optimus starts training Eren at the titan shifter’s request, and Optimus is made aware of Erwin’s plans to lure out enemy forces.

The Survey Corps expedition happens. Female Titan vs Optimus Prime, and with Optimus’ interference, more lives are saved. The Female Titan tries to escape and fights Eren to capture him, but Optimus’ training helps Eren hold his own long enough for the Female Titan to be captured, aka Annie Leonhart.

After the expedition, Optimus is able to build trust with more humans by respecting the dead. He also tries to persuade Annie into joining humanity. But Annie refuses and destroys the courtroom that she and everyone else is in in Stohess. Annie tries to capture Eren and flee, but Optimus stops holding back and shoots off Annie’s titan arm with energon, which ends up destroying her human arm. During their fight, they learn of the Colossal Titans residing within the walls.

The Beast Titan launches an attack in Wall Rose with an army of titans at its disposal. The Survey Corps learn of Historia Reiss, Ymir being the Jaws Titan, and of the titans being created from humans. Optimus loses his sanity for a brief moment when learning that tidbit information and tries to kill the Beast Titan, but Optimus goes to aid his comrades before dealing the killing blow and the Beast Titan escapes.

The Beast Titan also encountered Megatron right outside of Trost.

Reiner and Bertholdt reveal their identities of being the Colossal and Armored Titan. Megatron finally makes himself known to the story by shooting Bertholdt in the hand with dark energon and punching Reiner directly in the face. Optimus and Megatron tag team to take out Reiner, but Bertholdt creates a diversion for them to escape with Ymir. The Survey Corps attempts to go after the three while everyone is trying to figure out who Megatron is. Armin and Jean know after talking with Optimus one night.

The Survey Corps manages to capture Bertholdt and Eren learns that he has an ability to control the titans. Reiner is left to fend for himself while Ymir chooses to go after him and save him.

The Survey Corps learn of their corrupted government and the kidnapping of Annie and decide to stage a coup with Optimus and Megatron’s help. The Survey Corps also learn of who Megatron is from Optimus, and there is now a reluctant alliance between them and the former warlord. Megatron ends up causing problems and blackmailing people in the Survey Corps. Eren and Historia are captured by Kenny Ackerman and Rod Reiss. Megatron is asked to find Annie per Optimus’ request while Optimus is guarding Hanji and Erwin. Megatron ends up going to find her, with help from Mikasa and Armin. They find Annie, but Rod had experimented on her and managed to create an energon serum that allows for immunity against energon and instant regeneration. Armin pleads with Megatron to keep her alive while also figuring out Megatron’s reasons for staying on their world. It’s Optimus. It’s always Optimus. So Annie is captured instead.

Meanwhile, Erwin turns himself into the government after revealing his own selfishness to Optimus because Megatron had blackmailed him about it. The government is prepared to execute him, but the rest of the military pulls off their plan while Optimus manages to draw the residents of Wall Rose to gain the attention of the government. The rest of the Survey Corps go into the underground cave discovered by Armin, Mikasa, and Megatron to deal with Rod and Kenny’s army. Megatron destroys the remaining energon serums, motivates Historia to kill her father as a human, and stalls for time so Levi can jump Kenny.

The coup was a success and Historia is put on the throne. But Annie and Bertholdt manage to escape. And Eren’s lack of self worth almost causes him to take his own life, but Megatron manages to stop him, but it completely messes with the former warlords head. Megatron has one of many psychological breaks in this story, this is number two. His first break was in the Purpose OVA.

Later, Eren, Mikasa, Optimus, and Megatron after his breakdown, go to Eren’s home and learn the truth about the basement, aka, humanity not being extinct. Optimus, Eren, and Mikasa, leave with this information while Megatron fights Annie, Bertholdt, and Reiner. The trio barely manage to escape with their lives, but Annie has managed to do actual damage to Megatron’s armor. Meanwhile, Megatron takes Ymir back to the Walls per Historia’s request.

The Survey Corps read the notebook and learn of the outside world, the power of the titans, and the curse of Ymir. Megatron destroys the port, revealing himself to Marley in the process, and has a heart to heart with Eren by the ocean.

Meanwhile, the Warriors return to their homeland in shame and Bertholdt and Annie are studied for the dark energon and energon in their bodies respectively. Meanwhile, Ymir and Historia get married while the titans are cleared from Paradis. Survey Corps also find an abandoned Cybertronian ship.

Months pass, and Megatron has infiltrated Marley and its military per Hanji’s request, under the human disguise of Matthew Hayes. He saves the Tybur family, gets arrested for protecting Colt and Falco, is employed by Marley Military, and is immediately found out by the Beast Titan, aka Zeke Jaeger, aka Eren’s half brother, because of the conversation they had way back when.

Zeke proposes and alliance with Paradis, which they hesitantly accept. Megatron employs an insurance plan by recruiting former Commander Erwin Smith, current commander is Hanji Zoe, and said Commander breaks Kenny out of prison to get his help, which Megatron is not happy about. Kenny leaves an energon serum he swiped from Rod's bag behind so the Survey Corps would be less inclined to run after him. They inject that serum into Eren and Eren starts seeing glimpses of the future. Meanwhile, Nile ends up getting involved in Megatron's insurance group by complete accident.

Technological advancements are made, Marley starts injecting Titan shifters with the energon serum they had replicated from Annie. Megatron steals energon serums and ships them over to Paradis so Eren and Ymir can get injected with the serum and get a powerup. Bertholdt has been corrupted by the power of dark energon and is eaten by Porco Galliard, leading both side to grieve over the titan shifter. Eren also starts seeing more future memories because he asked Historia if the two of them could make contact with each other, and he also sees Optimus’ death at his hands.

What?

Later, Eren has a memory of a fourth notebook that was in his father’s possession, and they later surmise that it is now in Keith Shadi’s’ possession. Keith gives them the notebook excluding the last page, and the Survey Corps learn about Eren Kruger’s life and how some shadow that’s following him around is suppose to end the power of the titans. Megatron finds out about Keith and finds the last page that he’s been hiding.

Keep an eye on that shadow.

Zeke then tells Paradis of the Azumabito clan and Hizuru, and the clan comes to the island after some persuasion from Zeke and Megatron. Kiyomi explains Zeke’s plan, but Optimus interjects with his own plan of contacting Cybertron to prevent the use of the Rumbling, which they accept. Optimus and Eren get into an argument about using the Rumbling, and Mikasa decides to go to Hizuru with Megatron as her bodyguard to build alliances, and she learns about her homeland and makes a new friend in the prince, Kenshin.

When Mikasa returns, two new Autobots have arrived, Arcee and Wheeljack, and they’re here because they’ve been investigating other planets to tell Cybertronians that the war is over and picked up a single from the ship that they found, guiding them to the island. The main reason they left Cybertron; however, was because they couldn’t handle a life of peace there. The Autobots agree to help Paradis and get more acquainted with the island and it’s people, slowly becoming friends with them over time. Meanwhile, Marley has finished injecting energon serums into the Titan shifters and Pieck is somehow able to see the same dark entity Kruger was able to see.

Remember to keep an eye on it!

Eren is able to get stronger and is also seeing memories of the future come to fruition, the Ackermans learn that they have power ups due to the integration of energon in the power of the titans, Hanji and Levi learn of Mike’s death when going to Hizuru, Colt gets sick from energon poisoning from the Colossal Titan and Megatron finds a cure for him, slipping up in the process and exposing his identity to Annie, who he blackmails into silence before proposing she help them in exchange for a chance for a new life on Earth with her father included, which she accepts.

Character dynamics and character growth happens during these moments, Megatron slowly becomes a better person, blah, blah, blah. Megatron learns of the dark energon in Porco and orders Zeke to kill him or face something worse being Unicron. Zeke doesn’t believe him, but starts to when he comes to the island for a few hours which puts everyone on edge and Optimus is warning him of the exact same thing. Zeke agrees to get Porco killed but only if he’s allowed to meet Eren.

Megatron’s secondary team is able to find out about the infected wine with Wheeljack’s help, and all outsiders to Paradis have been arrested. With tensions running high on the island, Arcee and Megatron have a verbal confrontation with one another which nearly gets violent, but this leads to Megatron’s third psychological breakdown where he takes out a group of Middle Easterners that invaded the Marley compound to kill Porco because of Zeke’s tip off. They do succeed in killing him, but Megatron’s destruction can’t be overlooked. One the Warrior Cadets also dies during this.

Things are still tense on the island, Megatron has a heart to heart with Hanji, Armin, and Mikasa, and agrees to go back to Cybertron to face criminal prosecution, much to Optimus’ confusion and denial. Wheeljack decides to do something nice for the Survey Corps and takes them to space. Eren has an existential crisis while up there about nothing really mattering in the grand scheme of things. They come back down, Eren and Optimus have a heart to heart moment with Optimus calling Eren his son. Totally not going to bite him in the ass later.

Eren then talks to Yelena with Floch’s help and learns of Zeke’s plan of euthanization, which pisses Eren off and makes him decide to be selfish and go with his own plan of a full scale Rumbling. Survey Corps go to the mainland, Eren goes rouge, Floch and Louise are interrogated by Megaltron’s secondary team, and with Kenny’s help and the last piece of the fourth notebook from Keith which is supposed to be a drawing of Optimus, Megatron is able to deduce that the Attack Titan can see into the future.

The Marley-Middle Eastern War is over, ending Megatron’s reconnaissance mission and forcing him to leave. Eren sneaks in to Liberio when Megatron heads out. Annie is still kept in the loop, helps out with getting supplies from another Cybertronian ship to help contact Cybertron, and is forced to confess what happened to Marco to the 104th. Eren still uses Falco to send correspondence letter to the Survey Corps.

The Liberio festival happens, Willy declares war, but Megatron as Matthew saves him from getting eaten by Eren and has the holoform get eaten instead. The battle breaks out, Eren isn’t able to get the War Hammer Titan, Annie and Zeke are able to escape with Paradis but Zeke is arrested, Gabi and Falco jump onto the Jackhammer and Falco gets shot instead of Sasha because Arcee protected Sasha and indirectly hurt Falco. Oh and Porco is alive because the dark energon brought him back from the dead and now he’s an unstable Titan shifter who’s Titan form resembles that of a flaming ghost rider skull, expelling steam laced with dark energon.

There is still infighting on the island, but the Jaegerists aren’t that strong since Megatron got to Floch first and Floch is now a double agent for him. Gabi breaks out of prison and Optimus finds her and takes care of her. Pieck infiltrates the island, and encounters Optimus before deciding to follow him, because the shadow that had been following both her and Kruger told her to put her faith in Optimus and that he will end the power of the titans. Optimus, Pieck, and Gabi end up going on the run for a bit, and Gabi’s brainwashing has become undone in the process.

Eren tries to get the future back on course, but Megatron’s secondary team uses the Jackhammer to get the Survey Corps out of Eren’s hands. Wheeljack is finally able to set up communications to Cybertron and tells Hanji and Onyankopon to send an S.O.S while he goes to get Levi with Kenny and Erwin. By the way how’s Levi doing?

Zeke killing most of the Survey Corps in an ambush, leaving Levi the only survivor.

Marley still invades, Megatron and Reiner have a heart to heart, Porco’s Titan form is unleashed, Wheeljack ends up fighting Zeke and almost kills him, but Eren ambushes him and makes contact with Zeke just as Wheeljack detonates a grenade to kill them both.

Now remember that shadow that has been following Pieck and Kruger, and that picture of Optimus’ human form from the fourth notebook, yeah that’s not Optimus. That’s his creator, Primus, who had felt the integration of energon in the Paths, and heard Founder Ymir’s cry of help, prompting him to go and rescue her.

IM SORRY WHAT?!

He learns of Optimus and Megatron being on this world and Eren supposedly killing Optimus and Primus gets angry. He takes away Zeke’s connection with his royal blood, and nearly kills Eren but learns that Eren caused too much damage to the world that killing him in that moment would do nothing to change it. Primus frees Ymir from the burden of the power of the titans, turns the tree into a field of flowers. Primus gives Eren a choice, Eren chooses violence and gets control of the Founding Titan, going to Shinganshina and leaving Wheeljack to die. Thankfully Optimus, Erwin, Levi, Kenny, Pieck, and Gabi are able to find him, and Optimus leaves Gabi with Wheeljack while the rest follow Eren.

Meanwhile, Arcee, Lara, Reiner, Annie, and Megatron work together to take down and kill Porco Galliard, which ultimately completes Megatron’s redemption arc. During this, Magath protects Colt from getting infected with dark energon, but gets infected himself. Eren ambushed Reiner and eats him, gaining his power. He fights Megatron and Arcee, uses the Founder to steal Lara’s power and cuts off Arcee’s arm, creates puppet titans to fight against Megatron, attacks his friends, taking out Hanji’s eye and killing Floch and Louise. Eren traps Megatron, nearly activated the Rumbling, and Optimus tries to persuade him to stop. Eren doesn’t listen, Magath shoots off his head with a weapon that was created from the piece of armor that Annie cut off of Megatron four years ago. The power of the titans emerges and reconnects with Eren’s head, turning him into an armored up version of the form his has in the anime, and then Eren activates the Rumbling.

(Am I missing things here? Probably, but I got the major points down! You are more than welcome to read all 92 chapters of this if you haven't already~!)

[chaos-chloe]

Cleaning Chaos - Pezzy x Reader

Summary: Cleaning the house on your day off

TW: Kissing, established relationship, lmk if i missed anything <3

It was one of those rare, sun-drenched afternoons when the world felt oddly quiet and time seemed to move at its own leisurely pace. You had been looking forward to this day off, but the urgent weight of chores loomed like an unwelcome guest. Your laundry basket overflowed like a magician's trick gone wrong, scattered socks and shirts forming a daunting mountain. The dishes in the sink were beginning to resemble a small archaeological site in their dusty, greasy layers.

As you tiptoed to the laundry room, you couldn’t help but glance at Pezzy, your boyfriend, who was immersed in his livestream. His animated gestures and laughter were an intoxicating culmination of passion and creativity, each word reaching out to an audience you couldn’t see. You didn’t want to interrupt him; the last thing you wanted was to break that fragile bubble of productivity he had created for himself, especially on a day when he was so close to finishing a big project that had been brewing in the late-night hours.

You decided to be stealthy. Sneaking past him like a cat burglar, you tossed your clothes into the washer, set a timer on your phone, and moved to the kitchen. The clinking of plates and silverware echoed in the room, but you made sure to keep the sounds quiet enough to not invade his space. You turned on the dishwasher, the gentle whirring just barely audible over Pezzy’s lively banter with his fans.

In your mind’s eye, the mop became a dancing partner, twirling around the floor as you swept it clean. You envisioned the dust bunnies scurrying away, forming an alliance against the vacuum but ultimately succumbing to your determination. As you polished the countertops, they transformed into gleaming mounts of shining armor, where little kitchen knights held imaginary jousts over who could keep the mystical realm of “Clean” intact.

Suddenly, the timer on your phone buzzed, tearing you from your whimsical daydream. Quickly, you rushed back to the laundry room and switched the clothes to the dryer, noting how the rhythmic sound reminded you of a distant heartbeat. It felt oddly soothing, almost as if the house was alive, breathing along with you.

After transferring the clothes to the dryer, you paused for a heartbeat, allowing yourself to catch your breath and appreciate the pulsing tranquility of the moment. The soft hum of the dryer felt comforting, like a lullaby sung by the house itself, almost as if the walls had gathered around to support your efforts, whispering words of encouragement.

With a sense of purpose, you gathered the towels and lighter blankets that had somehow migrated to various corners of the house. They were like wayward travelers, each piece harboring its own stories – a splash of water from the shower here, a snippet of laughter from a cozy movie night there. You lovingly tossed them into the washer, imagining each one whispering tales of comfort and warmth.

Setting a new timer, you took a moment to notice the gentle rhythm of the clothes still tumbling within the dryer. Each thud against the metal drum was a reassuring beat, echoing the calm atmosphere that enveloped you. The smell of clean laundry began to mingle with the faint scent of lemon from your cleaning supplies, crafting a fragrant harmony that filled the air.

With the clothes now in motion, you glanced out the window at the golden sunlight streaming through, illuminating the world beyond with a warm glow. It was like an invitation to play, beckoning you to enjoy the beauty that lay outside, but you held the reins of responsibility tightly. There was still more to do, and the day was slipping away faster than you imagined.

You returned to the kitchen to check on things, wiping the table with a newfound vigor. You could hear Pezzy’s voice from the other room, animated and full of life as he engaged with his livestream audience. You couldn’t help but smile at the rhythm of his words; his passion always seemed to inspire you. It was another reminder that teamwork came in many forms – sometimes it was sharing space, and sometimes it was moving in perfect harmony, although at different paces.

With the kitchen gleaming, you made your way back to the magic of laundry. The timer went off, and you hopped back into the laundry room to switch the towels and blankets to the dryer. As you fluffed the new load and sent it on its way, your mind wandered again.

With the rhythm of the dryer humming pleasantly in the background, you entered a meditative state, lost in the comforting flow of your cleaning routine. Folding the fresh load of clothes, you turned the process into a dance, twirling one topped sleeve and then another as if you were leading an elegant partner across the floor of your shared space. Each fold became a moment of gratitude; for a shirt that carried you through countless adventures, for a cozy sweater that wrapped around you like a protective cocoon.

As you finished folding, you couldn’t help but reminisce about the stories behind some of the clothes. The faded tee covered in paint spots belonged to a spontaneous art night with Pezzy, where you both created masterpieces that resembled a wild confrontation of colors rather than actual subjects. The lively plaid flannel reminded you of chilly evenings spent beneath a pile of blankets, laughing over shared memories, and the lighter fabrics invoked the promise of warmer days ahead, filled with sunlit outings.

Once all the pieces were neatly arranged, you grasped a handful and made your way to the shared bedroom, glancing out the window as a soft breeze invited in the twilight. The golden hour cast a warm glow across your space, and for a moment, everything felt perfect.

Entering the room, you immediately noticed how it danced with soft shadows, reflecting the charm of the late evening. You began to seek out every drawer, every nook where those freshly folded clothes could find their home. 

With rhythmic precision, you put the t-shirts neatly in the drawer, arranging them by color like a rainbow. Carefully, you placed the pants on their designated shelves, making sure they sat effortlessly as if just waiting for their turn to be worn. As you nestled in the socks, you paired them up, joking internally that they should thank you for rescuing them from the depths of the laundry basket, a place of despair for wayward socks.

As you hung the jackets in the closet, an unexpected realization washed over you. This space, this shared room, and the clothes in it were not simply possessions; they represented the life you built together. Each piece of fabric held a memory, a reminder of shared experiences, laughter, and sometimes even the comfort of silence after a long day. 

Once you finished arranging everything, you stepped back and admired your work. The room exuded a sense of tranquility, with everything in its rightful place, like a harmonious symphony of life.

The sight of Pezzy’s side of the room, cluttered with clothes that were increasingly close to tumbling into a chaotic heap, tugged at your sense of order. It was a far cry from the serene cleanliness you had just established. You hesitated for a moment, marveling at the transformation of your section, but soon reality nudged you to face the truth: the room would feel complete only if both sides were brought into harmony. 

After a moment of contemplation, you took a deep breath and approached the door of his office, adorned with playful sketches of gaming characters and a small handwritten sign that read "Enter if You Dare!" adorned with doodled hearts. You lightly knocked before peeking your head inside. 

His office was a cozy den of creativity, the walls plastered with artwork and quirky posters, and the desk strewn with various gadgets and open notebooks filled with ideas. Pezzy was leaning back in his chair, eyes flickering between his computer screen and a comic book, blissfully unaware of the laundry situation.

“Hey,” you called softly, trying not to disrupt his focus too much. “I’m doing laundry right now. Do you want me to do yours as well?”

He looked up, the comic book teetering precariously in his lap as his expression shifted from concentration to surprise. “Oh! I mean, if it’s not too much trouble,” he replied, blinking at the pile of clothes that called out for attention like a neglected garden. 

“It’s no trouble at all!” you reassured him, stepping fully into the room and gesturing toward the colorful assortment of shirts and pants spilling from the basket. “You know I find peace in all of this chaos.” 

He chuckled, knowing that your penchant for tidiness often clashed with his laid-back approach to cleanliness. “Well, I suppose I’ll just let you work your magic while I conquer this speedrun.”

“Consider it done, mi amor!” you proclaimed, doing a little flourish with your hand before grabbing the basket and turning on your heels. As you walked back to the laundry room, a ripple of affection washed over you. It was endearing how he could immerse himself in a world of creativity while leaving the physical chaos for another day. 

Once back in the laundry room, you began sorting through his clothes, giving each piece your thoughtful attention. Just as with your own, there were stories woven into the fabric—a hoodie with a logo from his favorite band, a shirt that brought back memories of a weekend adventure with friends, and a jacket that bore the marks of many rainy days spent gaming indoors. You couldn’t help but smile as you recognized each article and the memories they held.

With everything sorted into neat piles—lights, darks, and the oddly colored socks that always seemed to end up in his laundry—you powered on the washing machine again, this time filled with his clothes. As the familiar whirl of the water began, you took a moment to lean against the counter, feeling the warmth of the moment surrounding you.

As you glided from room to room, a sense of satisfaction enveloped you. It felt good to take charge of the small spaces you shared, transforming each corner into a cozy retreat. Entering the living room, the light streaming through the windows painted everything in a soft golden hue, accentuating the warmth of home.

Sly, your charming feline companion, lounged lazily on the couch, her eyes half-closed but alert enough to observe your movements. She seemed like an adorable little queen surveying her kingdom, and instinctively, you knew the toys scattered around the room would be the first to fall under your organized touch.

You knelt down, scooping up the colorful assortment of squeaky mice, crinkly balls, and feathery wands, banding them together in your arms like a proud treasure hunter. Each toy brought a smile to your face—Sly had her favorites, the toys she’d take to her perch on the cat tower and those that became instant victims of her mischievous little paws. 

As you placed them back on her tower, Sly watched closely, her tail flicking with curiosity each time a toy settled into its designated spot. You could almost hear her inner monologue, questioning your choices but ultimately satisfied—after all, it was her domain. 

With the toys accounted for, you turned your attention to the blankets that had been carelessly tossed around. Some were draped over the couch, remnants from cozy evenings spent binge-watching shows. You gathered them, folding and fluffing your way to comfort as you created a newly inviting atmosphere. 

The cushions joined the blankets in your organizational spree; you fluffed them expertly, ensuring they sat up proudly, ready to cradle anyone who dared to nestle into the couch. You smirked, appreciating how these small touches transformed the room from a busy, messy space into a cheerful haven, inviting warmth and stories to be shared.

Finally, as you stepped back to admire your handiwork, you spotted some stray bits of cat fur glimmering on the floor. With a chuckle, you grabbed the broom, reminded that Sly’s shedding was a small price to pay for her love. The gentle swishing of the broom across the floor became yet another rhythmic motion, filling the air with the soft sound of sweeping as you mixed practicality and routine with a sprinkle of joy.

The living room soon sparkled, devoid of clutter and full of light and positivity. You took a moment to step back and appreciate the transformation, a little oasis waiting for Pezzy and Sly to join you. Content with your efforts, you turned to check on the washer in the laundry room again, hoping you wouldn't find any sneaky sock thieves lurking around.

As you entered the laundry room, the sound of the machine quietly churning reassured you that everything was going smoothly. You peeked in to check the progress, marveling at how quickly time flew when you were engaged with tasks that filled your heart with warmth. The laundry still churned vigorously, the space filled with the comforting smell of soap and freshness.

After a quick glance at the timer, you decide to return to the living room to grab the remaining items you might need for your laundry missions—detergent, softener, and a few of the mismatched socks that you would pair up later during the folding.

When you returned to the lively living room, Sly had decided to join you on your journey, leaping elegantly from her perch to inspect your progress. She strolled up to you and the neatly arranged toys, giving you a lingering gaze mixed with approval and a subtle demand for playtime.

“Ah, I see you’re interested in a game, Your Majesty,” you laughed, bending down to scratch her behind her ears. She chirped softly, lifting her chin and flaunting her furry coat as if to say, ‘Yes, of course, I'm the center of attention here!’

“Okay, just one quick game before we dive back into the laundry saga, how about that?” you proposed, grabbing her favorite feather toy and giving it a gentle flick. With a playful pounce, Sly transformed into a whirlwind of fur as she chased the feather around, her little feet making soft thumping sounds against the floor.

With chores nearing completion, you made one last dash to put everything away – the bedroom and bathroom received their finishing touches, smooth surfaces gleaming like freshly polished gems. 

With the last remnants of your cleaning spree tidied up, you took a moment to catch your breath. The bedroom and bathroom sparkled, every surface gleamed as if the sun had bestowed its favor upon them. You stood, surveying your work, satisfaction blooming in your chest like a flower coming to life in spring. 

Your moment of peace, however, was fleeting. Just as you turned to head back to the living room, Pezzy’s cheerful voice rang out from his office. “Hey! Baby! Come here for a second!” It was a beckoning, irresistible call, brimming with energy.

You padded over, curiosity piqued as he poked his head out from behind his computer screen. There was an unmistakable glint in his eye that made your pulse quicken. “I want to show you off!” he exclaimed, a playful grin lighting up his face.

Before you could even respond, he gestured for you to come into the office. As you entered, the enchanting world of his stream unfolded around you—lights glowing, cameras ready, and the chat scrolling above his head, illuminated with excited messages from his audience. 

“What do you think, chat? Isn’t my girlfriend the best?” Pezzy asked, his voice thrumming with delight. The chat erupted into a flurry of hearts and exclamations, enthusiasm overflowing as they welcomed you into the spotlight.

Before you could say a word, Pezzy reached out, wrapping his arms around you and drawing you close. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, the world outside fading into a hazy background as time froze for just a moment. The joy radiating from him intertwined with yours, creating a bubble of warmth that felt almost magical in the midst of the chaotic streaming environment.

“Say hi to everyone!” he prompted gently, his eyes sparkling as he turned to the camera. You found yourself giggling, your cheeks flushed from a blend of exertion and the nervous thrill of being on camera. “Hey, everyone!” you managed to exclaim, waving your hand animatedly. More hearts and playful messages flooded the chat, each one making your heart swell with a sense of belonging.

You decided to embrace the moment—taking a seat on Pezzy’s lap, basking in the shared laughter that filled the air. In this little cocoon, you felt connected to him, to the audience, and to the joy of being present. For a minute, everything felt right, and the stresses of the day melted away into pure euphoria.

But then, just as your moment of bliss seemed perfect, a timer chimed, breaking the spell with its decisive ding. “Ah! The laundry!” you exclaimed, jumping up slightly at the sound, and suddenly remembered the chores still awaiting you.

Pezzy chuckled, his playful demeanor never faltering. “Looks like you’ll have to go save the laundry from certain doom,” he teased, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “But don’t think you’re getting away that easily—I still need you for my stream!”

“Only for a few more minutes!” You laughed, the reality of your day inching back into focus. “Then laundry duty calls!” 

“Fine! Just one more minute…” he relented dramatically, pulling you back toward him. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he leaned in closer as the camera captured your playful banter, the chat now buzzing with a new wave of excitement and joyful comments about your dynamic partnership.

The minutes flew by in a charming whirlwind of playful conversation and laughter. You took turns answering questions from the chat, relaying stories about your shared adventures and the little antics that had made your life together feel so vibrant. The joy of sharing this moment filled you both, the love and laughter circling around you like a well-loved melody.

With one final laugh and a promise to continue the fun later, it was time to bid the chat farewell, leaving the cozy office filled with cheer. You swiftly leaped off Pezzy’s lap, nudging him playfully as you headed toward the laundry room once again, ready to tackle the next chapter in the day’s adventures.

As you walked away, you could already feel the warmth of the moment lingering like a sweet aftertaste, carrying the delightful chaos of the day into a beautiful tapestry of shared experiences.

[makeshiftdraco]

There was sorrow in Gil-galad’s eyes. “You should want more from a marriage, Elrond. Such a union should be born out of love…” Elrond pulled his hands out of the king’s grasp and sighed. “Love takes time, and time is a luxury we do not have.” The High King looked upon him with pity. “Be that as it may, I would not ask you to sacrifice your happiness or your freedom for the sake of politics.” The Half-elf felt the cool metal of Nenya against his skin, remembering the press of Adar’s hand upon his armored chest. “You need not ask me anything, my High King,” he murmured, voice low and resigned. “I am offering myself freely.” Gil-galad’s expression was unreadable, and his gaze shifted back to the battlefield map. When he did not reply, Elrond continued. “Shall I accept Adar’s offer of marriage and tell him we agree to his terms? Or do we reject his proposal and meet him on the battlefield?” The High King’s lips parted as if to speak, but he did not answer. Elrond stepped forward, blocking his view of the map. “Which path shall we take?”

The Diplomacy of Desire

Adarond Diplomatic Marriage AU by makeshiftdraco

Chapter Two: A Fragile Truce

Rating: Explicit

Fandom: The Rings of Power/Lord of the Rings

Pairing: Adar/Elrond

Status: In Progress

Description:

Tensions run high as Adar and Elrond meet to negotiate outside the besieged city of Eregion. When the Elven commander refuses to give up the ring of power, Adar suggests an alternative solution that catches the Half-elf by surprise. The Moriondor will agree to an alliance between Uruks and Elves upon one very specific condition...a diplomatic marriage between Elrond and himself.

Elrond must grapple with political duty and personal desires as he considers Adar's proposal. Is he willing to surrender himself to the enemy for the sake of peace? Can the Half-elf heal a wounded Middle-earth by binding himself to a ruthless stranger?

Adar knows his desire for the Half-elf is dangerous, but he cannot resist his gentle beauty. Conquest requires patience both on and off the battlefield, and the Moriondor is determined to win Elrond's hand as well as his heart.

[sophiegoose]

Giant!Miguel Character/AU notes

Howdy.

I return to the Spiderverse G/t tag with my other Big(tm) Miguel/AU.

I've workshopped this guy and the world he comes from quite a bit. I plan on writing a multi-part reader x fanfic about him at some point down the line, so he's gotten a lot of fleshing out and Lore(tm).

This will be closer to an actual character profile with some lore and storyline beats mixed in compared to my previous Sizeshifter!Miguel post.

Hope y'all enjoy. :>

Name: Miguel

Pronouns: He/Him or It/Its

Species: Giant

Age: 810 (roughly 30-35 in human years)

Height: 150 feet/45 meters (head and shoulders taller than most other giants)

Occupation: Alchemist and tapestry weaver. Previously an armorer, weaponsmith, and warlord.

Associated magical sphere: Spiders

Appearance: Miguel is a looming figure  with tan skin, which is covered from head to toe in scars. These scars range in size, shape, and depth, suggesting combat with a variety of beings over the course of his lifetime. He has a very buff body type, with broad shoulders and pronounced musculature.

He has sharp cheekbones and a square jaw, and piercing red eyes that glow with an eerie, dim light in the dark. Several more pinpricks of glowing red are arranged under each of his eyes, appearing to be additional eyes/light-sensing organs. These lack pupils and eyelids. His jaws are lined with sharp teeth, with elongated incisors. His toes and fingers have long, tapering claws, which have a straight edge and cannot be sheathed. He has medium length black hair, which is slightly curled and has interwoven hints of grey.

He wears a black shawl, consisting of numerous layers of sheer black fabric. This is woven over his body in several layers, creating a skintight bodysuit that covers his body at its innermost layer. The outer layers are woven into a black cloak that obscures most of his body and face from view.

This outfit is magical, and freely responds to Miguel's will. It wraps and unwraps, weaving and unweaving from his body, transforming into any garment he may need. It also acts as an extension of his personage:  any damage done to it felt by him. It can be unfurled into a large web that can entangle and snare foes, or weave around him tightly, forming a cocoon for protection, and anywhere in between.

Most days, Miguel wears this outfit in the form mourner's cloak, with a bodysuit wrapped around him underneath. He rarely lifts the hood of his cloak to show his face, with only his glowing eyes visible within. The fabric has a faint iridescent sheen.

Backstory:

Miguel is a giant, one of many magical creatures that call his world home. Giant society is somewhat separated from the rest of the world: most of their villages and cities are built atop banks of clouds, high above the world below.

Due to their lofty home and intimdiating size, giants tend not to mingle with other species, but there have been times where giant society has meddled with the lives of those below, for better or for worse.

Miguel was once a famed weaponsmith and warlord, waging battle under the sigil and banner of the Spider. He took part in a massive conflict that spanned centuries and multiple kingdoms, involving numerous species and innumerable casualties.

While the war initially broke out between small local factions for land and resources after a devastating natural disaster, it quickly devolved. It turned into a clash of kingdoms, political causes, and warring economies. As kings, feudal lords, rebels and outside warlords joined the fray, things got ever more tangled,  complicated, and bloody. As these groups forged alliances and lost their comrades one by one, they began to lose track of what it was the war had been started for and what they were fighting for other than vengeance. The carnage spanned across entire generations for some of the species involved, with humans bearing the brunt of casualties.

Things came to a head when the toll of war hit too close to home: Miguel's daughter was captured by a rival kingdom. The human ruler of said kingdom called for her execution in retaliation for Miguel's direct destruction of a town on the outskirts of their territory.

Miguel arrived just in time to see the life fade from his daughter's eyes.

Overcome with the pain of his daughter's death and wracked with guilt for having lost himself so deeply in the bloodlust of war, Miguel lost the will to fight. He retired from the warfront and became a shut-in.

He spends most of his days alone, now.

Residing in his secluded home on the outskirts of a floating city, he neighbors several other giants who once fought under his command. He doesn't socialize with them often, instead spending his time pursuing what little remains of joy in his life.

He weaves tapestries and clothing, creating elaborate pieces in an attempt to express his emotions, and making pieces in tribute to his daughter. Occasionally he'll take up commission work, creating decorative armor pieces or aid in repairing older pieces of his. He dislikes when people brings weapons into his home of any kind.

Many long centuries have passed since the war ended, and while to humans and other beings in the world below it is merely a legend, relegated to a footnote in history...

To Miguel it is still a crushing weight upon his life that is slowly suffocating him alive.

And so he weaves his tapestries, much as a spider would weave its web, and seeks penance and peace amongst the ruins of his life.

Personality:

Miguel is stern, well-spoken, and regal...but make no mistake, he is NOT as level-headed as he seems.

Neither his smooth voice nor flowery language can hide his animalistic tendencies, deeply held trauma, and barely-contained temper. He is quick to anger, jumpy at even the smallest of sounds, and filled with a deeply jaded rage towards the world, himself, and, most intensely, humans.

He has a deep contempt and hatred for humans, viewing them as lowly, vile creatures whose intelligence and craftiness is only ever used for personal gain and trickery. He once freely allied with and fought alongside humans, but  now views them as monsters, despite the obvious hypocrisy and misdirected rage of this sentiment. Should he ever find a human in his home there's no telling what he'd do...

That being said, he doesn't extend such violence and disdain to everyone.

He has maintained relationships with many of his former comrades, as well as friends and relatives...although his increasingly reclusive behavior worries them. He's fiercely loyal to those close to him, betraying a softer side he prefers to keep hidden, concerned for their safety and worried he may lose another person he holds close. He rarely admits to or shows this vulnerability: he doesn't want to appear weak, nor have others take advantage of that weakness. He can't take any more pain than what is already upon his shoulders. Not again.

As such, he remains focused on his work and the solitude of his home, rarely letting anyone in, both physically and emotionally.

Powers/Abilities:

-Sphere of the Spider:

Giants are inherently magical beings. Their massive forms exist thanks to the powerful magic that flows in their veins, and they're more susceptible to magical attacks and spells than most other species. Deeply intuned with the flow of magical energy that moves through all things, giants take on a sphere/focus of interest to better hone and utilize their magical aptitude.

Some choose a particular profession, such as farming, smithing, book-binding and so on and apply their inherent magical skill to these pursuits. Other times, a sphere of magic will chose a giant to take it on.

Miguel was approached by the spirit of spiders herself, who granted him great power in exchange for spreading her sigil far and wide. He accepted...

But her blessing was a double-edged sword.

While she greatly sharpened his senses, gave him immense strength and agility, and honed his already exceptional skills in alchemy and weaving to a fine edge, he suffered many side-effects. While the growth of his extra eyes, his fangs, his claws, and the sharp increase in his senses were tolerable, other changes were not so easy to adapt to.

Extremely sensitive to light and vibration, Miguel is uncomfortable in direct sunlight and dislikes loud noise and music. He has also developed a visceral dislike for birds, and motifs for them are associated with death in his artistic works.

He is most active at night, something that clashes with the sunshine-loving norm of giant society, and his animalistic nature does startle even his fellow giants at times. Miguel is, however, overall grateful for his connection to this particular sphere of magic. He feels it suits him.

-Weaving/Alchemy:

While Miguel does not produce his own silk, his arachnid powers do lend well to the art of weaving and alchemy.

Miguel can weave with traditional materials, such as cloth, string, and rope, but he is also able to magically weave with other materials. He can change the alchemical properties of any material he touches, allowing him to spool it out into thread that he then weave into the item he's working on.

For example, Miguel's weaponsmithing process is different than any other in the world. He starts with the materials he intends to use for a piece, then thinly spools them out into thread, tempering the metal with alchemy. He then weaves these metallic threads into intricate patterns as he slowly but surely assembles a weapon of immense durability and sharpness, one strand at a time.

His weapons are renowned for their sturdiness and unique aesthetics, with a very distinct organic, woven style that makes them easy to spot. His textiles are also in high demand, as they are easily enchanted and are resistant to fraying or tearing. His tapestries are said to glisten with threads made from traditionally unheard-of materials, with strands made of alchemically-altered diamond, platinum, stone, wood, and more.

His pieces are highly sought after, but his clientele know that he's not easy to hunt down and get a commission slot. He is a grumpy, morose recluse, and that doesn't seem like it'll be changing any time soon.

Additional notes/info:

-Miguel is pansexual, panromantic, and polyamorous (though he's not been active in the dating scene for quite some time). He currently has no partners.

-Miguel's home is a looming, brutalist structure formed from stone. Inside there are several support pillars and rafter-like beams that he freely leaps between and crawls along. Any visitor better be ready to climb to reach most of the rooms inside.

-His home has a garden at its center, with a ceiling of enchanted glass that captures and casts down sunlight in glimmering colors. It is filled with plants from both the surface world and giant lands, with tangles of fruit trees and grape vines growing in the gaps between the shadows of massive trees native to giant lands. The entire garden is encircled and criss-crossed by an artificial spring, which is filled with rainwater from the bank of clouds Miguel's home is built on. He often harvests fruit from his garden for his meals.

-Housed in at the center of this garden, resting in its own custom-made pond, is the last remnant Miguel has of his daughter: a goose, crudely carved from gold. This enchanted object was sculpted and brought to life by his daughter through alchemy. Although an amateur work by the standards of most alchemists, it was deeply precious to her. This goose can eat any metal, and will take what it is fed and alchemize it into eggs made of solid gold. This goose is very precious to Miguel, and he pampers it as a pet, spoiling it rotten with hand-carved foliage made of different, high-value metals, and dotes on it daily.

-Whether he admits it or not, he has a soft spot for children, and is often a babysitter for his extended family and group of friends. He's particularly fond of the child of his former battle comrades Peter and MJ, and treats their daughter, Mayday, as if she was his own. He'd kill the very gods for her.

[theother9tenths]

To say that Gortash’s coronation was an illuminating experience would be an understatement. As you descend the stairs, his words swirl in your mind, one sentence standing out in particular.

“Gods, you are a sight for sore eyes!”

The way he’d said it had surprised you. You’d expected hostility, even disgust. But the look on his face, mischievous and autocratic though it was, had been almost… relieved? If you removed the layers of blind ambition and tyrannical superiority… it was almost as if he was happy to see you.

Of course, upon revealing your lack of memories, his face fell into a mask of indifferent amusement, that of a person who holds all the possible cards. He revealed the whole awful truth of it. This whole mess that you and your friends are in instigated by none other than you yourself. Everything you’ve apparently done. Everything the two of you have apparently done together.

“I tolerated Orin. But I liked you.”

Your skin hasn’t stopped crawling since he said the sentence, coated in a decadent layer of hidden meaning. You agree to the alliance numbly, The Emperor reminding you that you can break it if needed. You can barely pay attention to the sham coronation, despite Wyll’s anxiety for his father’s safety radiating next to you.

The whole thing is too much, but the sinking pit of your thoughts is instantly made worse by Gale’s comment.

“Well. It seems you have a type,” he throws out half-jokingly as the group of you stroll across the bridge out of Wyrm’s Rock toward the Lower City. “I’ll endeavor to be retroactively less hurt at your firm rejection of my past advances.”

Before you can protest, your type in question does it for you.

“Excuse me,” drolls Astarion. “I sincerely hope you’re not implying that that slippery worm and I belong to the same category.”

Wyll’s voice cuts in. “Dark, brooding, power-hungry, and clearly traumatized? Yeah, I can see it.”

“If it’s any consolation, Astarion,” You can hear Gale’s smirk without having to turn and look. “You’re much prettier than he is.”

“Can we just focus on finding an inn?” you blurt out, turning back to the group. “We’re finally in the city and I don’t know about you lot but I’d like to put some of this gold we’ve looted to good use.”

The three of them blink at you for a moment before Wyll concedes. “Right as usual,” he admits. “No use in being rich in coin if we end up sleeping on the docks.”

One figurative (and literal) song and dance later, the group settles into the Elfsong Tavern, and Astarion approaches you. He stands silently as you remove your armored boots for the evening, watching.

“...Yes?”

“I’d like to hear it from you,” he says with a pout.

“What?”

“That I’m prettier than him,” he clarifies, his tone breezy. “I would certainly hope I am considering how I spent two centuries using my beauty to lure in victims for Cazador and Gortash looks like a sewer rat who polymorphed into a man, but I’ve got this awful issue with mirrors, as you know.”