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itsswritten · 17 days ago

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Cauldron-born | Part 2

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader

Word count: 4.1K

Summary: When an unexplainable energy pulls the Inner Circle to barge into the Day court, they're all shocked at what they find. But it's Azriel who can't help wonder if his dreams have finally been answered.

Part 1

A cackle pierced through you as Cressida looked upon you with a devilish glint.

“You believe you are a witch?” Her tone caught you off guard. Her patronisation questioning everything you had ever held to be true. Surely you were? It was the only thing that made some sense. Your brows furrowed tightly as you regarded the woman who had offered you shelter and refuge over the past few years.

Her laughing died down, her beautiful skin perfect by the ruins and spells she’d used for centuries, not displaying a single crease visible upon her flesh.

“Oh child what an easy life this would have been if we were more akin.”

You sat upright with a jolt, the murmuring of a dream— a memory whispering at the corners of your mind. Your heart swelling with the familiarity of someone you missed, despite her disposition, her cruel tone, that mean glint in her eye— you missed her. But as you felt the plush sheets beneath your body you knew you were no longer in the witches cottage at the corners of The Middle.

You had left that plagued land a while ago now.

A soft rap roused you from your thinking. The usual wake up call must have been the noise to stir you from your slumber in the first place, a familiar rumble of a tone behind the oak doors.

“Come in,” you replied softly. Your feet swinging off the side of the bed, as you walked towards the large curtain that hung from the high ceilings to the dark obsidian floor beneath your feet.

It should have been cool to the touch under your toes, but the house had a magical way of ensuring your comfort— always.

You heard the bedroom door swing open, your back to the welcomed guest as your fingers dropped from the luxe curtain fabric you had just pulled, inviting the warmth of the morning sun into your rooms.

“Blessed be my morning star, did you sleep well?” A deep sing-song tone bellowed into the room, a playfulness dancing on his words.

You cringed under the greeting, choosing not to turn to show your disdain at his choice of greeting and nickname. The sun was only just rising, sending splintered beams of light across your bedroom floor and walls.

“Helion, must you greet me in such a way?” He could practically hear the way you rolled your eyes and cringed at his words. You hadn’t turned to him yet, your gaze settling on the tops of the city below that the curtains had just revealed.

The view from your bedroom had changed more frequently in recent years. No longer the welcomed view of your childhood— the farm fields you grew up in, the misty fog that covered the northern part of the continent that you had always found comfort in.

No longer the harsh winding forest, dark trees that looked more like creatures that lurked outside the witches cottage— Cressida’s home— if you could even call it a home. Her den, rooted in The Middle.

No longer the glistening golden rooftops of Day, the sparkling white walls that danced the sunlight off the buildings in a way that made the whole court shimmer.

Instead, the panes of glass showed three mountainous peaks, dusted with snow in the distance and a city below— Velaris, the city of starlight.

Or the city of slumber. You were not well acquainted with the routines of the Night court residents. Them usually rousing from sleep well later into the day. However it did make your mornings quieter.

The auras of people settled in sleep, their noise, their colours dimming as you watched the kaleidoscope of energy dance lazily along to rooftops. It would be beautiful, if it wasn’t so loud.

You winced slightly at the sight, the lights and colours nudging on your mind. Poking and prodding a little harder than they had yesterday. It had been several days since Helion’s spell. A string of wryds to help contain your ability— dim it down, to subdue it, make it more bearable— but the spell was wearing thin.

Ever since that night—that fateful night where you almost left this world— your ability had been at a loss. Something that had always been as easy as breathing, as easy as a crisp night breeze filling your lungs, was now overwhelming and terrifying. If it wasn’t for Helion and his spell cleaving you're not even sure you’d still be here, in fact you’re certain it would have consumed you.

As beautiful as the auras of the world were, if you couldn’t control it— it would be the death of you.

“How are you feeling?” You had finally turned to Helion now, his question lingering in the air.

How were you feeling?

You could see, feel, taste Helion’s energy in front of you. A golden glow, so fitting for the High Lord of Day. It beamed within him like an orb of sunlight. You couldn’t touch it though, not like you used to, not like when you were a child and you used the naively play with creatures auras like a toy. Not like how Cressida had taught you to toy with people’s auras which was far from play.

That sense of control had broken, leaving jagged scars across your body to match.

Your hands, almost subconsciously went to touch the rugged scar that ran from your shoulder down to your torso. It tingled under your thoughts, but you pulled your hand back. Not allowing another moment to be wasted on what had happened and the marks it had left on you.

That was why you needed Helion and his spells. He had a way of dimming it with his own power, making it easier for you to navigate your day-to-day without being utterly consumed by the noise and colours of everyone else.

“I feel okay actually,” you had responded, your eyes moving up to the lines on your friends face. He smiled softly at you.

“This is the longest you’ve been without us having to spell cleave, but today—“

“Today could be a noisy day,” you finished his sentence, understanding what he was implying.

Tody, you were to begin training with the Valkyries.

“Those priestesses are already a bundle of emotions when they pass you, I think resealing the spell would be wise. Amren agrees.”

Well then, it wasn’t really up for debate.

You cocked a brow at Helion before moving towards the table in your room. That was now adorned with breakfast, courtesy of the house of course. Helion folded his arms across his broad chest. He still wore the colours of Day, white and pristine, glittered in gold jewellery along his wrists, earrings bejewelled with sunlight themselves. Grand and beautiful, just like him. However he looked so out of place against the dark background of the Night interior. As ornate as the House of Wind was, Helion didn’t fit.

No, he belonged among his own court, but the High Lord of day had left his court to accompany you. That in itself was such a large display of loyalty. You swallowed your guilt as you sat at the table, spreading butter across the warm toast and taking a bite.

“But of course the decision is always yours to make y/n,” Helion spoke, his tone as warm as the butter melting upon your breakfast.

They only wanted what was best for you, you knew that. Reminded yourself in moments like these. But you couldn’t help the feelings that slipped up to the surface. Since you’d come to the Fae courts and discovered who you were—what you were. Every piece of guidance came with a weight you felt like you couldn’t refuse.

You were the Mother’s daughter— Blessed be— you had status, respect, power— to do as you please, but that came with a responsibility that felt too heavy to bear. Every decision you made had to be considered, because it didn’t only affect you but the entire world and the peoples and creatures within it.

That meant, even if you wanted to try and push another day without the spell. See how far you could go as the spell thinned, you couldn’t risk it. As it wasn’t only you who it would endanger, but every living thing.

When Helion had found you— a shattered version of yourself— he’d spent the time piecing you back together. Perhaps out of duty to begin with, but somewhere along that journey a genuine friendship grew. However that would never negate from who you were, and what you were born to do— what your life’s duty was to be, and what he, what Amren, whatever everyone else on this island needed to do ensure you accomplished it.

“Let’s reseal the spell,” you muttered before taking another chomp of your toast, a softer look on your eyes this time. “…after breakfast.”

Helion smiled warmly, joining you at the table as he had done now every morning since he saved you.

The simmering of the fresh spell lingered on your skin, Helion’s magic coursing an invisible shield around you. The spell acting as a filter to the aura you were always so sensitive to.

The early days of his spells were always the nicest, at least they were nowadays. After building your tolerance back up with Helion, the first week of his spell usually lasted with minimal discomfort. He always had to be near though, his rooms were only down the hall to yours.

Sometimes your tolerance was less, or someone or some creature’s aura louder than usual that you needed him to reseal. It was why for the past year he’d essentially been attached to you at the hip, like a doting father or brother. And then there was Amren— doting wasn’t the word you would use. But she was always there too now. Out of duty of course, the way she’d collapsed down to her knees in your first encounter revealed how strongly her loyalty would lie to you.

Or lie to what you stood for.

Amren, the ancient one knew what your existence meant. Felt it in her bones, remembered the murmurings of stories and prophecies she listened to back in her own adolescent years. She knew what was coming, and knew how important it was that the Mother’s daughter had her ability under control.

So here you were, stood before Helion and Amren like a girl on her first day of school. Helion tightened one of the straps on the leathers you had been told to wear. He couldn’t attend the training class, only approved males were sanctioned so he would stay the floor below. In a waiting room. A handful of books already tucked under his arm.

“Stop fussing over the girl,” Amren snapped, her expression as hard as it always was. Despite her being utterly devoted to you and your protection, that dedication did not come with a slither of a smile.

You may have found her scary, if she didn’t remind you so much of someone you missed.

Helion gave you a knowing look before playfully winking at you. His large hands coming to squeeze your shoulders.

“How do you feel?” He asked, ignoring Amren at his side.

“The world is quiet once more,” you replied in a slightly chipper tone that garnered a smile from Helion.

He tapped the top of your head, “If we need to reseal, or something triggers it you leave right away, okay?”

You nodded in response along with a hum in agreement. This training was supposed to do the opposite of just that, however there were concerns. After the inner circle had barged their way into the Day Court a month ago, after Helion revealed who you were— a lot had changed.

Your belongings— which wasn’t very many— were packed up, along with you and Helion as you were practically shipped to the Night Court. You realised when you arrived how this had always been Helion’s intention. Why he’d taken the time to tell you the names of the Night Courts inner circle all those months ago. It was because they held significance in your journey.

The Night Court was safer, Velaris having an ancient spell that had protected it for so long. Amren was to teach you, she had knowledge that even Helion’s libraries didn’t share. There was Rhys too, with his mind and magic who was a crucial part to play in you regaining control of your power.

And now there were the Valkyries, who you were to train with.

You leaned against the railing of the rooftop, your eyes dancing upon the still sleeping city. It was quieter now, thanks to Helion. No noise and colours probing into your mind.

It was peaceful, and yet so lonely. When you had full control of your ability, back when it felt like an extension of you. You could slip in and out of it with ease, danced with it, sung with it. Now, it felt like a headache that could only be dulled with Helion’s magic.

“It is the mind-stilling which is a priority in your training. I believe it could be key to you regaining control over your abilities. You will train with the Valkyrie’s everyday until you master it.” Amren spoke. You didn’t turn to look at her, your eyes still gazing onto the cityscape below. Your mind wandering to what the people below were up to, what they may have been dreaming of. Thinking back to a time when your life was much simpler, when the most daunting part of your week was whether one of the village boys would fancy you.

You stopped yourself there. Stopped yourself from indulging and reminiscing in the past. The continent was so far away now, as was that version of you.

“What if it doesn’t work?” You turned to Amren, concern evident in your tone. The sun kissing your face as your brows furrowed.

She was sat in the shade, back against the cool stone wall of the house, “It has to.”

A silence settled between you both. Amren was right, this had to work because Mother be damned if it didn’t.

Nesta cringed as she watched the priestesses fuss. She had told them to be on their best behaviour, but in the presence of a living deity the females couldn’t help themselves.

They blushed and whispered, giggled and muttered words of prayer, some even curtseying as soon as they stepped onto the rooftop. Rollings of ‘Blessed be’ harmonised from their tongues and even Gwyn’s eyes widened in the presence of you. The female looked ready to burst with excitement.

There was something about your presence that was otherworldly, not just in your beauty but in the way you moved among the earth spoke of grace. Nesta couldn’t believe her eyes when she had found out you’d grown up on the continent on a farm and then The Middle— with a witch! And yet there was a regality that existed within you that couldn’t be taught, it had just always been, you had been born with it, cauldron-born to be exact.

You stood in front of them all, your own embarrassment from the fuss evident in your averting gaze. Gently— with delicate grace— you bowed your head towards the priestesses, responding appropriately with a whispering “Blessed be,” which only seemed to elicit more noise from the females. Enough noise that it took you a beat to notice the gust of wind that blew across your face as a shadow blocked out the sun for a moment. With a thud two large Illyrian males landed in the middle of the rooftop balcony.

Helion’s spell had been working fine till now, not a whisper or a simmering of aura— till you saw him.

Felt him, scented him.

In a flurry of steps you found your back pressed against the railing on the rooftop. The very presence of someone causing your feet to stumble back, hands clutching the railing tightly in a blur of a moment. He was here. The very male you often found yourself dreaming of when your mind wasn’t caught in the past.

Azriel.

Amren had launched from her place, she had been watching you so closely that even just a tremor of difference she would notice. But it wasn’t just Amren who had stepped towards you, the Shadowsinger himself had taken several large strides since landing as if he’d also always been watching.

“Do I need to get Helion?” Amren asked with an urgency in her tone.

Your breaths were shallow, your gaze falling to your feet as you tried to focus. You had been caught off guard, in the silence of spell you hadn’t expected any noise at all. You hadn’t been affected by the lively group of priestesses, Nesta’s silver aura hadn’t been licking at your mind or even the thousands of people in the city below hadn’t affected you.

But him. He had triggered something, somehow.

Azriel looked upon you with a concern that felt heavy. Hesitant as he stood only a step behind Amren.

Had he startled you? When him and Cassian had landed? Azriel couldn’t deny he had rushed to this training session, after spending the month on a mission. Rhys had sent word that you were to begin training, and the swell in Azriel’s chest was enough to have Cassian trying to keep up to the Spymaster on their entire flight home.

Azriel’s eyes wandered over you, his shadows whispering their own concerns. They had noticed your nerves, just as he had noticed them during his first encounter with you. It was his job to notice the little things, his duty as spymaster to notice the things others couldn’t, but even he couldn’t explain why he felt so attuned to you.

The morning breeze gently blew across your face, pulling the pieces of hair that were loose from your braid. You had calmed yourself, calmed yourself enough to raise your head to the audience on the rooftop. He could see you now, fully, for the first time in a month, and Azriel forgot how to breathe.

Divine.

He thought it was his shadows that whispered it, but maybe it was his own thoughts too. You were the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid his eyes on— angelic and saintly.

Divine was the only word for it.

Divine, divine, divine. His shadows sang.

“No, I am fine,” you finally replied to Amren. She looked at you sceptically, a look in her face that told you if you were lying then there would be hell to pay. You repeated yourself though, stepping away from the railing you had pressed yourself against.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, not yet. Not after what he had just triggered, that tightness in your chest was new and overwhelming to say the least. It was different though, to the way auras usually felt that left you with confusion and questions to why the Shadowsinger felt, smelt, tasted so different to everyone else.

You were grateful for the male beside him who decided to speak. “Sorry we probably startled you, just dropping from the sky like that— we tend to do that sometimes.” It was Cassian who had spoken, a warmness in his tone that reminded you of Helion. There was a twinkle in his eye of light-heartedness that seemed to dissipate the unease that had settled among the group.

You offered him a soft smile that only seemed to spur him on. His tone bellowing as he outstretched his arms in introduction, “I’m Cassian, and this is—“

“Azriel,” you finished his sentence for him. Not being able to stop yourself from saying his name out loud. Not being able to stop yourself from finally looking at him.

“Right, Azriel. You’ve already met,” Cassian replied, a look in his eye as he glanced between his brother and you.

It wasn’t fair. Wasn’t fair how much lovelier he was than in your dreams— which you didn’t think could be possible. The handsome lines of his tanned face, the dark hair that fell in loose curls and those large wings that were tucked behind his back. Your eyes dragged across him, finally landing on his own gaze. How it brought you back to that first moment you met him—how he had trapped you in his gaze back in the courtyard of Day.

“And I’m Gwyn,” the words had practically burst from the red-headed female. Her deciding now was clearly the right time to introduce herself, not that you minded. In fact if she hadn’t you may have just stared at the Shadowsinger all day, “…and I think I can speak on behalf of us all, but it is truly an honour that you wish to train with us.”

There were some murmurings from the priestesses then, as if in agreement and even Cassian tipped his head in bow towards you.

There it was again, that weight you held. Crushing and terrifying, they put you an a pedestal, showered you with adoration you weren’t too sure you deserved. With subtle strain you forced a gentle smile onto your lips.

“The honour is all mine Gwyn,” and you meant it. The people on this balcony had earned that praise more than you ever had.

“She just said my name,” Gwyn whispered in disbelief to her friends, her cheeks going rosy at the recognition. Nesta simply rolled their eyes, Emery teasingly nudged Gwyn with her elbow.

But it was a sentiment Azriel was still stuck on too. You had said his name, knew his name— knew him. His name on your lips was like a song, a melody you serenaded him with. His shadows had felt it too, your recognition of their master causing a stir that had them wanting to reach out—which they would have if Azriel didn’t have them on such a tight leash. Azriel only tore his gaze from you when Amren spoke up.

“Enough about honour and names,” Amren snapped, her eyes not landing on you but the the two males who had just arrived. They understand her stare, her tone, the waft of her had as she strode back to her spot in the shade.

“Right let’s start ladies, find a space and we’ll begin with stretches,” Cassian commanded, his tone authoritative that had the females moving into motion. Even Azriel snapped himself from his thoughts, collecting himself as he stalked towards one side of the balcony.

You followed suit, following the motion of the other females and finding yourself in amongst the group to begin. You noticed though how Nesta had come to your left, Emery flanking your right, and Gwyn directly behind you. As if creating their own shield. Perhaps a statement to the swooning priestesses— regardless, you were appreciative.

Stretching began, and you copied Cassian’s movements in front of you. In sync with the other females around you. Moving your muscles in a way you hadn’t for a while, stretching the aches you didn’t know were there. Cassian stood in front of the group, bellowing whenever the stretch would change.

The movement was welcome though. You’d always had an active life. Growing up on a farm, tending to the crops and harvests had been your way. You weren’t new to the ache of a hard days work. Then you’d spent your time in The Middle, with Cressida who had an unrelenting method of training you.

“I’ve heard you’re not a novice?” Nesta asked you as the group was split in two. One side had been pulled to practice mind-stilling, the other, your group, had been given wooden staffs to practice more physical exercises.

You took the staff in your hand, curling your fingers around the rod. Nesta wasn’t referencing your past though. She was asking about your time in Day, you hummed in response with a nod. “I trained with Helion’s sentries for a few months,” it helped…for a while. Your progress had soon dropped off though, plateaued, which was why you were here. To see if the Valkyrie way of training would help in any way.

Nesta nodded in response, before tapping your staff twice with hers. “Show me then,” she moved into a defensive stance and your brow quirked.

It was a challenge, she had been the only one who had dared, the only person to treat you with some semblance or normalcy— and it made you smile.

a/n: well here is part 2, I’m sorry this has quite literally taken months to get this instalment live, so I really appreciate any of you who might still be around to read this! I do think this has the potential to be a slightly bigger series than I first anticipated, but I guess that’s my fault for giving our mc the coolest back story ever 😅 anyway enjoy my loves 🤍 - Lottie xx

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evilminji · 10 months ago

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You know what would be both Cool(tm) AND Pants Shittingly Terrifying? Eldritch Space Whale Danny!

Except NOT! Because he's not a whale! Just snoozing and Giganto-Fuck-Off HUGE!

Imagine it! Danny. Joint Custody Child of The Ancients Of Time And Space. Space is SALTY AF because their BITCH OF AN EX has used his FUCKING POWERS, AGAIN, to CHEAT. Clockwork how DARE YOU.

You knew he'd be our Son in advance!

YOU SNUCK IN AND STARTING BONDING WITH OUR CHILD BEHIND MY BACK!

YOU [REDACTED]!

Danny? Sitting off to the Side as a Sentient Everything and Nothing made of galaxies and starlight, howls expletives at their Ex, who is being... REALLY snippy back? WOW, Clockwork. I mean, JESUS, man. Danny's from "oh bless their heart" Nowhere, Midwest. And even HE thinks that last one was both backhanded and cold af.

......he should take notes. *continues to eat his popcorn*

Anyway! APPARENTLY, Space Parent has taken him in the divorce. With much huffing. Tucked under their arm Like The Football(tm). And honestly? This is kinda hilarious, so he's cool with it. Byyyyyy~ Clock Dad! See you on weekends~☆!

*Exasperated Time Noises*

It's pretty cool! He learns a lot. Learns he's probably? Gonna be SOME variation of Space Ghost. Might even take over Space's... well, EVERYTHING, should the unforeseeable occur. So obviously, gonna have to learn The Family Business, as it were!

Which?

UNSPEAKABLY HYPED, YES PLEASE.

SPACE AND STAR STUFF! HECK YEAH!

Unfortunately? Still a Halfa. Bleh, squishy need to eat and sleep. Why they get in the way of Hyperfixation? Why no more space dust? Nooooo, don't drag him away from the controls! He can still learn! Sleep is for quitters! Cowards! *whining in Give Me Back My Blorbos, You Monsters*

But, no. He apparently has to "take care of his body" and "not burn out". Eat "real food". A protein bar counts! He probably ate one of those! Give him back his STARS! He doesn't CARE if he sounds like a toddler! That's DIRECT ACCESS TO THE SECRETS OF SPACE ITSELF! He'll BITE, so HELP HIM-! *Is scruffed like a cranky infant being carried off to beddy bye*

Injustice! D:<

But, none the less, body's require sleep. He shovles down his food, washes up, and flops down in his bed. In the nice lil cozy "Safe For My Half Apprentice Who Is Also My Adopted Son" corner. He passes out in that corner. Starts to float, as he has done countless times before, when agitated before bed. Floats OUT of that corner.

That Safe Little Corner.

IN THE CENTER, THE BEATING HEART OF SPACE.

You know... the place ALL OF SPACE connects too. Where Universe Form and Die. The Grand Recycler. Dust to Dust, from the ashes of old, to the creation of new. Where PORTALS are randomly assigned. So that the Omniversal Ectoplasmic Levels may always be balanced at near to perfect levels, allowing free flow of Souls through the various Reincarnation cycles.

Space, of course, doesn't MANAGE the Ectoplasm itself. Nor the Souls! Different Ancient for THAT, but they DO manage the PORTALS. We live in a SYSTEM after all. Everyone has their "departments" as it were. So really, it's quiet... Danny? Honey? Awful quiet back there! You, uh, fallen asleep, Starlight?

*empty room*

(O.O)

*inhale* AAAAAAAAAAA-!!!!!!!

Meanwhile! He be Snoozin'! And Ghostin'! Ghost Snoozin'! Is extra comfy, cause he weightless and got not booooones~☆!

But! He? Is not a child anymore! Has learned to... for lack of a better term, Let Go. To finally ACCEPT his Death. His inhumanity. His Amortality. Death no longer holds him, can no longer let him go. He is... not immortal. He is disowned, by his own doing and his own choice, at his timeless moment of Ending.

When Life let go of his hand and Death kindly offered theirs, he did not take it.

And that's okay.

It took awhile. Talking to older ghosts. Most vague and vast, near formless. Because it's... it's scary. And it's all you know. All, really, you've EVER known. Inherent to your identity, even after you leave that part you behind.

You are "human". "Martian" or "Xy'xeruian", something else, and you never question it. Even when you've left behind everything ELSE. Your name, your eyes, your history and skin. Yet you fly around and pretend. Still alive, still human.

But is that YOU?

Or just the form you found your start in?

And like? It's okay if it IS! Sometimes, yeah, you ARE. You look down deep and find a "don't know what you were expecting, buddy" sign stapled to a mirror. But more often? It's that last hurdle. The final step in Letting Go.

Everyone mourns at their own pace.

And they are the ghosts of who they were.

It helped. Mourning for the kid he was. Who was fourteen and wanted to be an astronaut. Who died and will never have a grave. The longer he exsists, for he can't technically be called Alive, the more painfully young that child seems.

It was okay.

To cry for Danny Fenton.

Then? To let him go. Let his memory, be memory. And his Past be the grave that child rests in. Loved dearly and remembered, but no longer binding his soul.

He doesn't have to wear that face anymore.

No tributes to the Dead.

He got? Kinda... BIG. Like REALLY big. Spiraling, serpentine, cracking ice, and burning galaxies. Like a fourth dimensional dragon, of ice and stars, somehow forcing its way into a three dimensional space. Atop it all, between two vast, impossible horns? Made of glacial ice coating the warping hearts of black holes, who's shape themselves seem to shift in unknowable ways? There burns, like comet trails, with super novas, compressed to decorative gems beneath glittering morning frost, a Terrible Crown.

He? Thinks? He MIGHT have wings.

He can't tell.

Because APPARENTLY he's a fuckin tesseract! Oh, no, sorry. He might me a Zone DAMNED PENTERACT!!! Is THIS what he gets for hanging out with Clockwork all the time? He just liked the quiet! Now his "true form" is PHYSICALLY PAINFUL for most people to look at!

Clock Dad WHAT THE HELL?!

(You see, now, why Space broke up with him? An ASSHOLE)

So! Danny stays, usually at least, in his "Hi, yes, I am Normal Human Man" Ghost form. But NOW? Now it PINCHS. Because it's TOO SMALL. But hey, that's fine! It's not like he has an ingrained habit of transforming when super tired and stressed! To float sleep for Maximum Restfulness(tm).

Ha ha!

Why does that feel like foreshadowing?

BECAUSE IT IS!

Danny? Snoozing! Space? Has LOST THE BABY! Portals? Have done a Jood Gob in Portalling, something they are vaguely sure they are supposed to be doing! Yay them! They have no brain cells but still enjoy helping! They moved a thing! That's helpful right? Yay! Probably!

And on DC's planet Earth?

They? Just choked on their fuckin coffee. One moment? La dee daa~ oooh~ look! Stars! Deep space! Oh, hiiii~ Watchtower! The NEXT? *every alarm in the building starts LOSING ITS SHIT* Giant World OBLITERATING SHAPE completely takes up the screen.

From near PLUTO.

There are NO WORDS TO DISCRIBE HOW FUCK OFF BIG THIS THING IS, MR. PRESIDENT. It will eat our nukes and LAUGH. Call! EVERYBODY!!!

Obviously? Superman. I mean really, OF COURSE Superman. Frankly, all the Supers. Because we would like to KEEP having a planet, thanks. Only? The more reports that come in? The more everyone is getting "oh fuck. This is a Workd Eater" vibes.

A massive, massive, Sleeping Titan of a Planet Destroying World Eater.

That MIGHT BE MAGIC.

*highly stressed Everyone noises*

And WORSE? Superman? Can't TOUCH it! Oh sure, at FIRST he could! But then he apparently pushed too hard in just one spot! And it felt POKED AT. So now, after flicking superman HALFWAY BACK TO EARTH to make him stop? No one can physically touch it!

But! There is hope!

Because? The creature is GREEN. Bright, luminous, Lantern Green! And Earth's Lanterns have already sent for back up. Combined? The were able to move a... hand? Paw? Something. But! With the combine forces of several nearby sectors of Lanterns? They promise the power to either relocate the creature or at least hold it in orbit until FURTHER forces can be deployed!

They refuse to harm the creature until it proves actively hostile, as it could have been seeking a place to nap and chosen one inconvenient to established planetary life. Frankly? Earth doesn't CARE where you relocate the giant Eldritch Space Dragon. Just NOT IN OUR BACKYARD, PLEASE.

....YES WE ARE SURE! We don't CARE if the scientific community of our planet is begging you to set up an area for them to place an "observation satellite"! No giant Eldritch Space Dragons in our solar system! It might WAKE UP!

Naturally, about half way THROUGH this Highly Delicate Operation?

Danny Wakes Up.

@hypewinter @hdgnj @lolottes @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @mutable-manifestation

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #minji's writing

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readychilledwine · 9 months ago

Note

Hi! I love your writing, it always makes me grin. Could I request a platonic Az fic? One where reader is like 10, super cuddly and touch affection starved and Feyre’s ward (kind of like Evangeline is to Lyssandra), and maybe like the kid or sister of one of the children of the blessed that was sent over the wall but feyre found her and took her in even though Tamlin didn’t like it, so when Mor took Feyre, she had to take reader too, and then during that dinner, she gets scared to meet everyone (especially cass sine he seems intimidating) so she runs behind the nearest person, Az and when he doesn’t get upset, she sticks with him through the dinner, wanting to be next to him, hiding behind his wings, asking for cuddles, and playing with his hands. He doesn’t get upset and reader just decides to follow him like a shadow from then in and make him her fave person, like watching when he train, being sad and quiet when he’s gone (until Nuella and Cereadwin bring her sweets), happy when he’s back, and never leaving his side, and even asking him to carry her etc.

Oath

Warnings - platonic soul mates, mentions of Amarantha and UTM, visions

A/N - I'm not saying I am tucking this away for a rainy day, but I'm not not saying that 👀

Azriel Masterlist

You didn't even have to ask or knock. The door opened, and shadows pulled you in. Guiding you to Azriel in the dark as he opened up his blanket and pulled you up to his bed and into his arms. "Nightmares?" He murmured softly into your hair, holding you close. "It's okay, little one. We all have them." You curled into him, basking in the warmth and protection he offered. His wing rested over you, feeling like a blanket weighing down like a tight hug. "Tell me what you saw?"

You started softly. "A robed figure with swans. But this time, it was like.." You paused, wiping tears from your eyes. "It was like I was a swan. You were on the waterline of the lake, yelling for me."

Azriel went stiff, then pulled you closer to him. "No one is going to take you from me. From us. You are ours to look after."

And you had been since you arrived in the Night Court. You had been ripped from the mortal realm with Feyre by Tamlin. Feyre had taken you in, despite arguments from her sisters, when she found you starving in the streets. You became hers, and she yours. She was closest thing you had ever had to a sister, and her regret the moment you were caught following her Under the Moutain was something she struggled to live with to this day.

Amarantha had taken a liking to you, though. You were a tender human girl she enjoyed using as a personal servant. She kept you at her side, almost always glowing with how much you admired the fae, how you were raised to be complicit to them by the Children of the Blessed. You complimented her constantly, adoring her dresses, her hair, her glowing skin. You had no idea she was so evil. So cruel. That was until Feyre's first trial.

It was Rhysand who pulled you into his room one night, sheltering you from the violence going on. He had whispered to you tales of a city covered in starlight and a family. A family that all found each other, chose each other, loved each other. He had worked you into the bargain with Feyre, ensuring he had you for one week every month, ensuring you were away from Tamlin, who, for unknown reasons, hated you.

When you first came to the Night Court, Rhys spent the week with you, teaching you to read and write more gently than he had Feyre, teaching you the different courts, the different high lords. He had put you in dresses that made his eyes sparkle but grow distant with longing. He had called you his little second chance, and on that second visit, you were sold. You loved Rhysand so fully that you had clinged to him, crying as Tamlin ripped you from his arms.

When Tamlin locked you and Feyre in the manor, it had been the scariest moment of your life. You were still mortal, but the power radiating from her, consuming her as she pulled you into her chest for comfort, was terrifying. She had told you the Night Court would be your home now once she had calmed down, and the decision was made to have dinner with Rhysand's family. Mor had taken you, winnowing you two in and letting you enjoy that drop, that rush of free falling. Everything had been fine until you saw Cassian.

Cassian was loud, he was huge, he had muscles in places you hardly knew could have muscles. You had ended up hiding, much to Cassian's amusement, behind the closest thing you could. Azriel.

And it had begun after that. Azriel became your best friend. You constantly looked for him, snuggled him, loved him. He became your everything and you his. You made him carry you everywhere, take you flying, and made him laugh with you under blanket forts.

On your 9th birthday, he had taken you into town, spoiling you before the war with Hybern begun with pastries, books, new dresses, and a stuffed animal. It was the same day Velaris was attacked. You had been taken from him, locked into a cell with Nesta, who held you close, whispering how it would be okay. You were forced into that same Cauldron as Feyre screamed, held back by Rhysand as the male pleaded for the King to let you go.

Azriel had promised you from that day forward you were his, swearing it to you in an oath that you two sealed with a pinky promise. He promised to protect you. To keep you safe. To make sure anyone who harmed you would regret it. But even Azriel, as powerful as he was, could not save you from the aftermath of the Cauldron.

1 week after your 10th birthday, weird things started happening to you. You had dreams where you saw things. Similar to Elain. Her visions came out in riddles, though. Yours were different. Odd to Rhys and Amren. Odd to Helion. Your powers were similar to a seer, yet so different.

Helion had described it as you walking through timelines. You could see all outcomes with no direction of how that outcome would come to be, whereas Elain saw one possible future and potential riddles guiding to it. "A burden," he had said to Rhysand quietly. "A burden to know each way someone you loved could die, to know what happens if one pawn doesn't move exactly according to plan, but not be able to tell them how exactly it happened."

You had fallen into yourself more, seeking only Azriel with Feyre's pregnancy and Nesta's spiral. You only told him what you saw in your dreams and occasionally the twins if he would send them to you with treats.

He pulled you close again, shaking you from the past. "What else did you see?"

"Elain," you whispered softly. "Lucien holding Elain tightly while she laid on the ground. She no longer glowed with the light of the fae. It was like the cloaked figure had taken it from her."

The grip on your nightgown grew tight. "What else?" His voice was tense, eyes getting slightly distant, letting you know he was communicating with Rhys that you had seen something.

"Rhys had facial hair." Azriel hummed. Unknown to you that you had just given him an idea of the timeline. It would have had to have been after the birth of babe. Rhys only grew facial hair when he was tired. "Feyre and Nesta weren't there. Just Lucien, Elain, the three of you, and I think me."

"As a swan," he repeated.

"Yes, as a swan. Trapped on his lake."

"Do you know how old you were when this happened?"

You shrugged. "No, but we had a string. It wasn't gold and glittering like Rhys and Feyre's, but red and power seemed to flow through it, not emotions. It felt like I was transferring something to you."

Azriel kissed the top of your head. "You know I need to tell Rhys about this?" You nodded. "And you know he may need you to show him?" You nodded again, but shivered at the thought of Rhysand in your mind. "We should also mention the red string to Amren. She what she can dig up."

"But she's so cranky." Hazel eyes, tired and heavy with sleep, peered down at you. "New Amren is way more mean than old Amren."

"A problem for tomorrow. Go to sleep, y/n. I'll keep your nightmares away."

"I love you, Azzie."

"I love you too, y/n. I won't let you turn into a swan."

You were asleep almost instantly, body back on that lake, and a cloaked figure with a bone like figure stroking your wings.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage

Azriel Taglist:

@elle4404

#acotar #send asks #send anons #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel x platonic!reader

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thecordelialetters · 2 months ago

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Homelander x Vampire! Reader

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Summary: There's nothing that taste better than the blood of the strongest supe in the world. Warning: Fem! reader insert, smut, explicit sex Wc: 1,778

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Since you developed them at the age of 8, your powers were a blessing and a curse. Gifted with an immortal indestructible body, the speed that rivaled A-Trains, and the strength of a thousand men, you had one flaw, your insatiable thirst. As a young girl who knew nothing of control, you tore right through your parents, ripping them limb from limb and sucking them dry. You've gotten a lot better at self-control since then, though the memory still haunts you. Starlight, or Annie as you knew her from her childhood was the sweetest girl you ever met. You had known her since she was a little and babysat her when her mom was away. The ball of sunshine always asked to see your fangs ( not that her mom knew until Annie was older ) and loved riding on your shoulders while you ran. She would ask you to throw her up and down, always falling into a fit of giggles, before making you chase her through the house.

You saw Annie all the way to adulthood being a loyal friend by her side when she joined the Seven and even after she met the boys and her boyfriend Hughie. As much as the spineless man annoyed you with his nerdy tendencies and sweaty smell, he was good to Annie. That's how you end up in the Vought Tower as a double agent. Ashley was the one who found you, she saw some articles about the good deeds you had done a few years back and wondered why with powers such as yours, you had flown under the radar. You could hear her voice in the meeting room introducing you. "Homelander this is Night Crawler, she would make a great member of the team, her abilities include super strength, hearing, and speed." You could smell her blood pumping and her heart rapidly beating under the scrutiny of Homelander's eyes. Pushing the door open with one hand you strode in head held high while looking around the room.

"Hello, I am Night Crawler." Before you could say any more the sweetest aroma hit your nose making you close your eyes and inhale deeply. What is that smell... It was sweet and musky enough to make you feel yourself salavate. When you opened your eyes to look at the direction of the smell your gaze landed on... Homelander.

"Well Night Crawler... what else can you do? Other than the basics." You drew your fangs out and dashed behind him wrapping your hand around his waist. He turned around the retaliate but you were faster and blinked in front of him. "Interesting...very interesting." Homelander hummed while his eyes ran up and down your revealing costume. Your costume consisted of a black spandex suit where the shorts stopped right under your butt and the top had long sleeves with a v cut down the middle. Your leather boots went all the way up your thigh leaving a sliver of skin. It was simple but effective, though Butcher thought you could stand to show more skin. "I've decided. Congrats Nightcrawler, you've made the team." He flashed a dazzling smile showing off his pearly whites. "In fact let me give you a tour of the building, as the Seven's leader it's my job to show around the newbies." Ashley went to object, but her face was met with a large red gloved hand. "Come, Nightcrawler." He commanded. You scurried after him, the scent of his veins luring you closer. Homelander gestures behind him "So as you know back there was the team meeting room, we meet there every now and then to discuss missions, stats, new marketing promos etc." Moving his hand forward, towards the elevator "Each person on the team has their own suite, mine is up here, the biggest one, since I'm the leader." Okay seems like overcompensating but who knows. The two of you stepped into the luxurious surprisingly small space. The air was suffocating; you felt like he was planning something. The ding of elevator made you jump. "Ladies first." paired with that same fake smile. You nodded and walked forward and felt him pressed on your back hard. "Come on little lady, we have lots to see and do." You looked up at him towering over your frame. "Of course sir." As you followed after him you felt your throat run dry. Shit you didn't think this meeting would run so long. You tried to distract yourself with thoughts about anything, counting how many lights where on the wall or clawing your hand at your side. "Did you hear me? Are you even listening?" You could tell Homelander was yapping about something or boasting about his saves and was annoyed that you missed the whole speech. But your mouth was watering and your head was pounding. You looked up into his eyes, gazes met. Homelander furrowed his eyes. Earlier your eyes were a bright green and now they matched those of crimson rubies. You felt your fangs poke your mouth. "Sorry," you blinked rapidly to come back to your senses. "Well then...come on Ill show you your room." He swiftly turned, cape trailing behind him. You felt like you wouldn't last any longer, you needed to get into your stash. You had asked Ashley to fill your fridge with donated blood, all you had to do was wait Homelander out. "This is where you'll be staying." He swayed his arm across as if to say "You've probably never seen a place this nice before". The room was very...stereotypical of what was thought of as vampires. Black and red colors were splattered through the room, it looked as if you stepped into a victorian gothic home. "There better not be a fucking coffin in here." You whispered to yourself. Homelander chuckled at your comment. "Do you do much...sleeping?" He cocked his head to the bedroom, strolling in as if this was HIS place. You could feel your hunger surging, if he didn't get out in the next 2 minutes you where going to go crazy. Next thing you know Homeland is by yourside, hands on your shoulders. "You know, I think I know what might help you rela-" He was cut off when you spun around and jumped onto him, legs wrapped tightly around his mid section. One of your hands wrapped around his jaw, the other one holding his shoulder for balance. You bared your fang and bit. It was the sweetest blood you ever tasted. It was like a delicacy and you couldn't stop, hunger clouded your mind. You kept sucking, relishing the feeling on your tongue. Your legs and hands squeezed tighter as if it would keep the blood coming.

Homelander stiffened, what the actual fuck. Here he was trying to get in the new girl's pants but not she was sucking him off, and not in the way he intended to. But he was getting lightheaded and turned on. The feeling of your lips on his neck, core pressed so close to him. He let out a strangled moan. He felt himself stiffening, suit a little tighter than usual. Eventually satisfied you let go, lapping up any extra spills with your tongue. Realizing what had happened and what position you where in you looked at Homelander ready to apologize. He couldn't help himself and slammed his lips on yours. The feeling of you sucking his neck was euphoric. His hand grazed your side, gentle like a lover. Before grabbing your neck and holding your body out. You hand grabbed his to release the tension. "What the fuck was that." You flashed your fangs towards him. "I need blood to sustain myself. And you have the best kind." Your smile was bloody and sadistic. It opened something up in Homelander. It was what he needed. Someone like him, you wouldn't mind his bloodshed you'd probably embrace it. He liked that you thought his blood was the best. I mean of course it was the best he was the strongest person in the world. He brought you closer to him, letting you stand on the ground.

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Since you developed them at the age of 8, you're powers were a blessing and a curse. Gifted with an immortal indestructible body, the speed that rivaled A-Trains, and the strength of a thousand men, you had one flaw, your insatiable thirst. As a young girl who knew nothing of control, you tore right through your parents, ripping them limb from limb and sucking them dry. You've gotten a lot better at self-control since then, though the memory still haunts you. Starlight, or Annie as you knew her from her childhood was the sweetest girl you ever met. You had known her since she was a little and babysat her when her mom was away. The ball of sunshine always asked to see your fangs ( not that her mom knew until Annie was older ) and loved riding on your shoulders while you ran. She would ask you to throw her up and down, always falling into a fit of giggles, before making you chase her through the house.

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"In that case. Continue." He stepped back slightly to undo the top of his suit and pulled it all the way down, letting his cock spring out for the bottom, slapping against his stomach. You were the worst double agent, but you were doing this for Annie, why not have some fun. You leaned against him, feeling him pressed on this stomach. You kissed his shoulder, opposite hand running down his chest. "So smell so good." His hand gripped your waist harder. You bit into his shoulder as he lifted you once more, legs going around his waist. His cock rubbed up against you, mouth moaning in your ear. You moved towards his neck again and bit the other side. Releasing your lips from his neck you pressed them against his, smothering the red liquid against him. He was such a passionate kisser, way better than any man you've ever dated. You broke the kiss only to shed your suit, blue eyes scanning every inch of your body. It was like you were the perfect specimen, not a flaw in sight, utterly beautiful. "I knew you'd be a great addition to the team." He said. You smirked in retaliation before sauntering to the bedroom. He followed, like a lost puppy and their owner. The bedroom was the same black and red color scheme, black silk sheets covered the bed, surrounded by dark wood furniture. There were red and white spider lily bouquets placed in vases throughout the room. There were way too many ornate vintage lamps. But the details didn't matter to you, not when Homelander was rubbing himself up and down your slit. He kissed your neck in a similar fashion as you, before slamming his hips against yours. There was no need to be soft, you two were the strongest in the world, and the sounds definitely proved it. The best rocked with each moment, the wood creaking from the pressure. He cried out loud as you bit his chest. His cock was pulsing as pushing in and out of you. He slammed into you again, the tension of the bed finally breaking and falling to the ground but that didn't stop him. Your pussy clenched around him. He grunted in your ear speeding up slightly before releasing his hot cum deep in you. He rolled off you and the two of you laid there panting filling the silence. You turned over to him with a smile, fang pushing out the bottom of your lips. "Again?"

#homelander #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander x y/n #homelander x oc #the boys #the boys homelander #smut #fanfic #the boys tv

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vacantfields · 10 months ago

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So... Here it is (:

----

Your hands were shaking around the backpack you were holding. It contained gifts for the two animatronics you cared so much about, the ones you hurt.

You wanted to apologize to them for your behavior; it wasn't right of you to avoid them in the way that you did just due to their new looks.

Sun's heartbroken expression jumps into your mind, and you frown, softly sighing as you look down at the bag; the flap of it is open. The bag held arts and crafts supplies and those glow-in-the-dark stickers Moon had mentioned once or twice. Hopefully, if the boys saw this, they would hear you out.

Once you moved to the Daycare doors, you stood half-frozen in panic. It shouldn't be an issue coming here to the place now, as the kids wouldn't have gotten in yet. You groan to yourself, gently resting your forehead against the big wooden doors to the daycare. If they don't accept your apology, you'll lose the best friends you have ever had. Raising your head from the door, you grabbed the doorknob and pushed the door open ever so slowly; it creaked quietly, but before you stepped in, you could hear the two jesters talking.

"... I really thought they would like the new looks, Moon..." Sun sounded so sad, and it seemed like this talk had been happening for a while.

Moon hummed in response before answering. "I think they do, Sunshine. I think they were just... Surprised?"

Sun let out a soft chuckle. "Yeah? Because we are so surprising to see?" Then, someone gets playfully pushed due to the bells jingling that could be heard. After a short silence, you could hear their laughter through the door you were hiding behind and more pushing around.

You suppose you caught the end of the conversation, so as you could hear the soft jingling of bells and soft laughter and giggles, you pushed the door open further and walked into the daycare, the bag tightly in your hands.

The laughter and playfighting stopped immediately, and eyes snapped to your wildly shaking form. You thank yourself quietly for wearing your cap and oversized jacket so you could hide a little. It was quiet but somehow loud for what felt like eons.

Then, Sun finally spoke; god bless that guy. "Star? I thought you weren't coming back?" He sounded so careful that if he spoke any faster, he would scare you off. Moon remained quiet, you noticed. You stood there for a bit, taking some deep breaths, and then you heard more jingling, meaning they both jumped down from where they sat. The jingling of bells stopped, and you finally looked up and saw Sun in front of you on his knees, so he wasn't too terribly tall. He had a small but careful smile on his lips. Since he was this close, you could finally take all the details in his skin. He looked so soft, and his eyes looked so bright and friendly.

"Starlight...?" Sun said softly, with a frown, as he moved his large hand up and carefully wiped a tear away from under your eye with his thumb, cupping your cheek with the rest of his hand. You hadn't noticed you had begun crying. Your blurry eyes went to Moon, who loomed over Sun's shoulder from behind; even he looked worried.

"Ah, sorry! Sorry..." You quickly spoke as you sniffled and flinched a bit from Sun's soft touch, but he kept you steady, his free hand resting on your arm. "Star..." Sun tried, but you held a hand up, so he paused. Moon watched you cautiously, his hands at his sides. "I'm... I'm sorry for the way I acted and the way I treated you guys. I’m so so so sorry." You tried to hold your voice steady as you looked at both jesters.

Sun's rays peeked out through his curly locks and gave a weak spin, a sweet smile on his lips. "Oh, daydream... Beloved little sunflower." he sounded so fond, his eyes crinkling as he smiled. You smiled, although a bit awkwardly, but you leaned into Sun's hand that still rested on your cheek. You glanced at Moon, who let out the loudest dramatic sigh, his head tilted back and his long black hair hanging behind him as he lowered himself onto his knees, looking at you sternly for a bit, his red eyes narrowed.

You watched him with widened eyes before Moon moved his hand over his claws, sheathed, and cupped your other cheek. "You should have apologized sooner, Star." You weakly nod as both Daycare attendants cup each side of your face.

"I’m really sorry... I brought you two some gifts in hopes of making it up to you or at least just a tiny bit..." You softly muttered, then held up the bag, to which Moon removed his hand from your face and gently pried the bag out of your grip so gently that you barely noticed Sun's rays spinning slowly. Moon gently sat back, using both hands to open the bag; you and Sun watched as Moon's expression changed from sad to excited. The soft grin that appeared on your lips when Moon's eyes widened as he held up the small bag of glow-in-the-dark star stickers was so worth the hours of driving around to get them worth it.

He looked to Sun and shook the bag of stickers like an excited kid on Christmas. "Sunny! Sunny!" Moon said with the happiest grin, and Sun's rays spun faster, and a happy giggle escaped his lips. "I see them, Moonlight, I see them!"

Even you let out a small laugh; the moment was warm and tender as you and Sun watched Moon stand up, the bag of stickers tightly in his clawed, excited grip. "I will be right back. I have to put them in our room!" He said with such excitement neither you nor Sun could stop him, not that you wanted to. You watched him attach their aerial wire and fly so quickly that he almost tripped onto the small stage that sat high up on the wall.

When Moon disappeared behind the curtains, your eyes returned to Sun, who was rummaging through the bag to see his gift; it was different colored paper, pencils, and even some paints. You could see his rays spin slowly, a content whirr from his fans as he put them down carefully and turned back to you, who was still standing there.

When Sun didn't speak, you opened your mouth for some reason.

"Its... Kinda funny that even after hours, you're both still dressed in your silly jester costumes." Your face flushed, and you let out a weak chuckle. Sun smiled at that. "Hm... Well, we have been a bit out of the loop due to someone!" He sing-sung to you with a teasing grin, to which you frowned. Sun chuckled at your expression as he sat back on his heels, his hands resting on his thighs. "Thank you for the gifts, Star, but you really didn't have to, you know?" He hummed as a soft grin stayed on his lips. "I know you think we deserve everything, but we just wanted our best friend." Your face once again turned red with how fast it flushed at his soft voice.

Sun raised his large hand and gently pat your hip with a slight grin before he stood up at his full height again, the bag of his gifts in his free hand as the other traveled up to your chin, his knuckle hitched under it and tilted your head up; you looked at him curiously then he sent you a wink and a smile as he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your forehead before looking down at you again.

"Are you going to stay for a slumber party then?"

"I don't... I didn't pack any clothes or items I need to do that, though?" You said, flustered, your voice no longer steady as you watched him with widened eyes.

"Hmm..." Sun moved his hand from under your chin to tap his own with a finger. "Well, clothes... You just need something to sleep in, right? You can borrow one of Moon and I's if you want to," He said with a smile. "As for... items as you say, I'm sure I can find a toothbrush or something in the gift store! And for a bed... Well, you can lay right in between us." He said with a huge grin.

You needed to get away from this teasing, giant android right now. "Moonie?" You called out, to which Moon responded by standing out on the small stage high up on the daycare wall. "Yes, Moonbeam?" he called back with a smile.

"Sunny is trying to make me stay over!"

Moon reattached his wire and lowered himself down to you and Sun. "Ohh.. But what if I also want you to stay?"

"What? You know I can't stay-" You began frantic and flustered.

Moon stood next to Sun. Both of the androids looked down at you, almost pleading.

"Guys! The rules say I can't stay-" You got cut off by Moon, who put a hand on your head to take the cap off your head and put it on his own. "You and I know those rules are not rules anymore, dear Star." He hummed, and Sun nodded. "It's a true daydream! They changed it! So you could totally stay here with Moon and me for the night!" Sun spoke excitedly in his voice, his rays doing a spin and his hands clapping.

You were blushing so hard you felt like you were going to faint. Being alone with the jesters at night would be different now that they look like... well, for a lack of better words. Hot.

They were both 8’5, so double your height, basically; they were built toned, with broad shoulders and chests, a slim waist, and arms and legs that looked toned. They looked like models of some sort for a more risky line of clothing.

Your thoughts ran in circles about the idea of them being models, but you snapped out of it when you heard Moon snapping his fingers in front of your face.

"Hey, Moon to Star!" He said, but he sounded amused. "You have been staring at our chests for a long time." Oh, His grin looked dangerous, like he knew he had you in his claws now. You pouted up at Moon.

"Don't be mean. I just zoned out, and you two are so tall it's hard to look into your eyes!" you tried to defend, but Sun just snorted but managed to keep his laughter in as he covered his mouth with his hand.

Moon hummed with a smile. "I see. I suppose that's fair, little stargazer." he chuckled before putting his hands behind his back, his arms folded there as he tilted his head, his faceplate tilting a little as well. "But you should stay the night."

Sun nodded his head quickly to that. "Yes! You must stay! Please, Starlight?" He put his hands together in a plea.

You watched the two for a long while, keeping them in suspense, but then you sighed and nodded. "Alright. I will stay."

They both jumped up excitedly and even high-fived, which made you giggle.

Oh, these two made your heart pound. You watched Sun and Moon fondly as they excitedly started to plan the slumber party. A tender smile on your lips.

Things were okay.

----

Part 2

Part 1

hope you guys enjoyed (:

#Things Are Better AU #dca fandom #dca au #dca x reader #daycare attendant x reader #sun x reader #sun x y/n #moon x reader #moon x y/n #writing #fluff #sweet #soft #see? everythings alright (:#.... for now >:]

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ataraxiasflame · 7 months ago

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In doing some research for my fic, I encountered a few names from different SJM books that seem to be derived from similar origins and I went on a bit of a trip trying to consider all the connections:

When researching some information regarding the inspiration for Helion (the God Helios) I discovered that Helios’s mother is called Theia and his sister is called Selene. Theia, Helios and Selene are all connected through solar elements like light, the sun and the moon.

If we recall from HOFAS, Silene was Theia’s second daughter who Azriel also claims looked like Rhys’s sister. We also know that she too was able to wield her mother’s Starborn powers (which is essentially starlight).

Helion’s power is also light and also has several similarities to Helios:

And I always question the potential foreshadowing of the scene below.

- ACOSF ch 41.

If I had to guess, perhaps Silene or a descendant of hers was married off to a member of the Night Court, which is why Rhys’s sister looks like her. But my real interest is the connection that Helion (and Lucien) has to the Trove, and their potential challenge to the theory that Rhys has a claim to the throne as a descendant of Fionn/Theia. The similarities in name could have been mere coincidence but the effect the trove had on Helion creates that potential connection to Theia and Fionn (I’m not saying he is Silene’s brother but they could be the ancestors to whom he is referring in ACOSF)

Then perhaps this chapter in ACOSF (ch 42) in which Amren urges Rhys to conquer Prythian claim the throne and he declines several times, only to have her respond with this line:

…might suggest that there are others who have equal claim to the throne.

Personally, I hate the potential High King plot line, especially if Rhys and Feyre will claim the throne (I could write an essay on why this would make no sense from a narrative perspective). There are so many references in HOFAS that highlight why Prythian failed under the ruling of one sovereign and we as readers experienced the reign of a sole ruler in book one. It just makes no sense for Prythian to return to a proven failed form of sovereignty, especially with Rhys and Feyre in those positions of power, when they only recently broke free from Amarantha’s reign.

However, should the High King and Queen narrative be necessary to the plot line, I would far prefer Helion/Lucien be the potential challenge to the throne over Rhys. The end of HOFAS even opens questions regarding Nesta’s future in a position of power in Prythian.

High King plot aside; these potential clues do make me even more interested to see how Lucien’s past will affect the rest of his story and the over arching plot of the series, how his power could be even stronger than we expected, how they could come into play with the Koschei plot line and whether he will play a larger role in the political future of Prythian as well.

But most interestingly is that Theia (the mother of Helios and Selene) was the Goddess of Sight and Vision, possessing prophetic powers, and it seems fitting that Helion’s own son is mated to a cauldron-blessed Seer. Mates fated to be together who are true equals in every way.

#elucien #pro elucien #lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #elain archeron #pro elain archeron #helion spell cleaver #High King of Prythian #acotar theories #anti rhysand #anti feyre #hofas spoiler #hofas spoilers #sjm crossover

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bonefall · 1 year ago

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are there any differences when it comes to starclan worship and beliefs among the clans? considering how you’re taking a christian-flavored approach to their religion, there’s gotta’ve been some kind of “great schism” or “protestant reformation” religious discourse. especially when it comes to wind “we-sleep-under-the-stars” clan and sky “gone-for-the-past-50-years” clan

The most significant difference is between SkyClan and Forest Four worship. Between the four, it's mostly superficial ritual differences.

Traditional Forest Four religion is centralized. Clerics are both healers and religious leaders. There is a stricter concept of both blasphemy and dark magic that discourages personal worship of StarClan, so when you're given a strange dream or omen, you are supposed to bring it to your Cleric to interpret it.

By contrast, SkyClan has lived several generations on the lam. The closest thing to a Cleric they had was the Hub like Skywatcher, who was more of an "official networking expert" than anything. The Leader is the strongest spiritual authority and a Cleric is more of a doctor than a priest, so SkyClan cats nurture a more personal connection to Skypelt than Forest Four do with Silverpelt.

SkyClan's practices do not sit well with Forest Four. It's no wonder they have a demon like Brokenstar in their pantheon. Heretics, the lot of them.

As for Forest Four...

ShadowClan will surprise you with how pious they are. They have a deep connection to the Dark Forest with Ripplestar, Brokenstar, and Tigerstar in their recent past, so they fear the influence of demons more than other Clans.

So, their warding rituals also tend to be the best, and they're the most vocal about blasphemy. Clan cat AU of The Exorcist would have the priest come from ShadowClan.

WindClan is loud. The wind howls and so do they. They sing songs, chant as groups, and act notably performative about their piety. Visiting the Cleric regularly is a social expectation-- else you must be hiding something!

They have this practice of "counting their blessings," (Clanmew: "Pos shayu shai Laalha; For starlight I-lather") which basically means they like to point out the blessings StarClan has given WindClan. Usually this has to do with glowworms, an abundance of snails or rain, shiny things in general, a bountiful hunting week, etc.

ThunderClan does a lot of honoring. Sacrifices, dances, feasts. They have the most productive territory and make use of that. You'd think they'd get along with WindClan best, but they both find the other insufferable lmao

Leaftail: "bunch of shineless tailtasters over there-- they think they can just EAT FOOD and that means they're devoted to StarClan? I do that ANYWAY."

Shellfur: "maybe if they ate some more food over there they wouldn't have to visit their Cleric every 3 days. Your stomach growling isn't an omen bitch you just don't partake in StarClan's earthly delights."

Leaftail: "RICH coming from a TUNNELBUN BITER"

Shellfur: "MAAAAAAD that I eat YOUR food BETTER THAN YOU"

"SHUT UP"

"AND IM DATING YOUR COUSIN AND THERES NOTHING YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT"

And, lastly, RiverClan.

They take things slow and try to recognize the blessings present in their world. When something is acknowledged as having "personhood" in Clanmew, it's given a warrior name. RiverClan gives a lot of things warrior names.

They have a lot more rituals than other Clans, but they're little ones. Superstitions, really. Like saying prayers before meals, putting an intentional flaw in their crafts, throwing every 5th fish of a hunting patrol back in the river. Stuff like that.

#better bones au #clan culture #BB!StarClan #Piety #Skypelt #Silverpelt

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thatruerealmwalker · 5 months ago

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HEY YOU- GUESS WHAT?

I'M BACK!

Well I mean I've been here- but I ordered food last night and yeah...

I hope you enjoy the takeout if you haven't had it yet!

#We Who are Blessed Under Starlight #poppy playtime #smiling critters #OC #Magical Girl #Original work #original story #Caretaker Au #Been a while coming honestly #Good to write for this again!#I think this is a good way to take it- i hope so at least!#Give me your thoughts and hope you have a wonderful day!

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sgiandubh · 1 year ago

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I was wondering if anyone else had this same fear as mine? I’m not sure it’s really a fear but I think there are going to be sex scenes in Sam’s upcoming project and who knows maybe Cait as well.

Is it crazy to feel uneasy, fearful, nervous or any of those emotions about watching Sam or Cait do sex scenes with people other than each other? I know it’s their job if the script has these scenes but maybe I’m worried that what I see on screen with them in their sex scenes with each other and how special it is isn’t as special as I think?

It’s probably an irrational fear and no it’s not the only reason or even the reason why I am a shipper. Their chemistry on screen sent me down the rabbit hole and it was really what has happened off screen that made me a shipper.

Sorry I think I rambled quite a bit there but you seem to welcoming and friendly and most importantly rationale.

Dear Uneasy Anon,

Let the woman in the audience who was NOT even mildly - how can I put it elegantly - ehrm.. unsettled by The Reckoning cast the first stone at your question and my answer.

*crickets*

I thought so.

I remember my stupefaction on a balmy late August night (not unlike this one) when I watched these scenes for the very first time. Shouted like a crazy woman at 4 AM something along the lines of OH, DEAR ME, WHAT THE HELL (literally: what the mother of all devils, told you that being a native speaker of obscure idioms is infinite fun)? And then immediately hit rewind, questioning my sanity and grateful I was under the radar.

I had never seen anything like this on a screen, let alone in what I thought to be a whachamacallit divertimento (Sam, who? Caitríona, who?). And chemistry is a paltry, almost sorry term to describe sexual attraction, in their case: these two were not blocking anything, and I do not mean it in a lewd way, but in an emotional one. A much more serious affair than a, heh, hydraulic incident while having to put up with carpet burns.

What we saw there were two people very much attracted to each other and yes, clearly in the early stages of falling deep and hard in love with each other. And I do not mean Jamie and Claire, here, for I have never made the confusion. Let's not be hypocrites: what consistently happened on and off-screen, in the Season 1- Season 3 interval, despite all the hurdles and the shitshow, is a real story on the constant brink of taking over the performance side of things. So much so, that at some point I almost completely blocked the characters and had to re-watch, for the sake of keeping up with that neglected storyline: it was embarrassing, but in a good way.

That was not acting, dear Uneasy Anon, and bless his heart, he repeatedly spilled the tea about it. Knowing that and having experienced that Mach3 impact yourself, I doubt you would feel uneasy by S/C shooting formulaic sex scenes with other people. An example: When the Starlight Ends. I howled in my popcorn. That is to say that particular movie was a doomed project. That is also to say: you'll know how 'not special at all' that is, when you watch it.

So, in a nutshell, I can only offer you this answer, along with the hope that it makes sense or helps you somewhat: you may feel uneasy because you know how rare and fragile that is and also because you are probably afraid of breaking that spell. But you immediately tell me that it is their off-screen shenanigans that made you a part of our rank and file: what you call fear is nothing else but maybe a bit of projection and certainly a deep fascination. You are desperately normal, dear Anon. Last but not least, remember FDR: the only thing to fear is Fear itself. Go ahead. Watch those with an honest eye. I guarantee there will be absolutely nothing to write home about.

This, however (emphatically NOT The Reckoning). This always punches me in the damn gut. This is better than Mantegna's Saint Sebastian. Objectification, schmobjectification:

#Anon

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purity-town · 1 year ago

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No update today...because I just graduated from college!!! It's been a wild weekend with my graduation ceremony and moving apartments and all that, but from here on out I'm officially free!

We're also just past the third anniversary of Purity Town! I had started working on the comic towards the end of my first semester at college, during one of the lowest points of my life -- so suffice to say, I'm so glad to see how far we've come since then, and many thanks to everyone for sticking around for so long and making this such a fun experience to work on!

And with all that, after ages, I've finally got ask responses all typed up under the cut!

And thank you for reading!!!!! Seriously, it makes me so so so happy to see people enjoying this comic so much -- I'm getting to draw things and get excited about my lore ideas and present NPC interpretations and OCs and it's wonderful that other people are just as hyped about it. I adore Chris and Andrew a lot and I'm glad other people do too!

Haha, yep! The Dryad gets to see That Guy again after 450 years, the townsfolk get to see the equivalent of a mythical fairy show up to bless their town, and Andrew has to deal with the Literal Actual Dryad in town and up in his business. Everyone will be happy about this and there's no way it will end messily!

I've definitely thought about it! Particularly having her being Andrew's maternal grandmother, and then working elements reminiscent of that into Andrew's mother's design -- I even have a general idea for how she looks based on that, though I don't have anything to show for it as I haven't tried properly drawing her out.

I think there are several interesting hooks that could come of it, depending on how you spin it. Big problem with all of that being that, at least off the top of my head, there's hardly any in-game lore surrounding the nymph -- she's just someone (some creature? a type of creature? a unique being?) that exists.

I did see a note on the wiki pointing out the similarities between the Dryad and the Nymph's designs, but I'm not totally convinced that's intended; they just happen to both be showing a lot of skin. The definition of "Dryad" including the word "Nymph" nudges me towards them being related, but I'm still just...not sure. Maybe Nymphs (or Nymph, singular) are a handful of Dryads who were not outright killed in the war but instead mutated beyond recognition by the eldritch powers they fought against? Much to think about; I'm open to ideas if anyone has opinions on the matter!

Here you go! And a sta.sh link again in case of Tumblr-image-quality-shenanigans.

Thank you!!! The Aether is an incredibly fun location to draw in general; it's so strange and magical and gives me an excuse to add stars and sparkles everywhere. Add in the Shimmer and it's just- such a delight, haha. It's rainbows and starlight and it was really interesting translating the in-game side view we get of the Shimmer pond to the top view in the comic.

Thank you :) This was quite the semester, and working around other folks' schedules for groupwork and sudden project requirements changes and so on and so forth left me with a busy and unpredictable schedule. But I was able to wrap up the semester with solid finals and a great GPA, so it worked out in the end -- and now I'll finally be settling into a more regular work schedule. No more all-nighters (hopefully)!!

I’ll admit that I haven’t really thought about this much. If anything, I’ll probably handwave it a bit to be more general -- main reason being that there are plenty of reasons for someone to be on edge during a Blood Moon, and that can be an interesting thing to explore without making it into a “haha menstruation” joke.

(Also, considering the Zoologist transforms during a Blood Moon regardless of moon phase, I think the idea of the moon warping the mind and that being amplified during Blood Moons in general is a more interesting take. But even if you remove that element, Blood Moons are scary and characters being snappy or on-edge is reasonable given the circumstances.)

I don’t have a good response to this bit, but please know that it made me laugh quite a lot.

First off -- I’m so sorry for taking so long to answer this ask; I hope you’ve gotten good info elsewhere in the meantime but I’ll add what advice I can give! Here are some general tips below -- some may be more useful than others depending on your situation and approach to drawing, but I hope it helps in some way or another!

Start small. Purity Town started as a 2-page mini-comic, and then expanded into a 10-page chapter as I got used to the comic-making process and decided whether I wanted to stick with the project or not. Purity Town ended up snowballing into a larger narrative comic rather than the "small comic snippets accompanying a more typical fanfic" as I had originally been thinking of, but starting small helped me ease into it nonetheless. By the time that I had finished the first chapter, I had gained enough experience working with comics to feel comfortable/confident enough to continue on to chapter 2, and things just kept rolling from there.

Pace yourself. I'm quite slow at drawing, so I generally do my best to set aside time every Saturday just to work on the comic, as well as working on it whenever I feel like it over the week. This keeps me from burnout (and repetitive strain injuries). Importantly, having a set update schedule also helps me remember to actually work on updates, as leaving me to my own devices = never getting anything done (see: how long it took to answer this ask). However, many folks do just fine updating entirely on their own time, so take this one with a grain of salt and figure out what works best for you!

Plan ahead. This applies more to making longer, narrative-focused comics. Because comic-making is so time consuming, every page should count. You don't need to have the entire thing written out before you begin (see again: burnout; it's also nice to have some level of flexibility with the story to see it grow alongside your skills), but planning out at least the current story "segment" is a big help. I like to script out the current chapter, starting with a pile of out-of-context dialogue snippets and overarching chapter ideas and boiling it down to a proper dialogue script with notes for panel ideas. It helps a lot with figuring out how long the chapter will end up being and lets me freely move events around until I'm happy with how they fit together, rather than doing it all on the fly.

Do what you can to save time. If you're a digital artist especially, look into what tools your art program of choice has to help make your illustration process smoother, like paint filling tools or vector lines. If you want to re-use backgrounds or character art, then do so! It's okay! Do whatever makes you enjoy what you're doing and happy with the end result!

Stay organized. This was touched on in a number of the other points, but it's so important that I'm giving it its own slot. I make liberal use of folders and layers -- personally, I use three layers for lineart and every layer has at most two colors. Text gets its own folder and special effects have color-coded labels. My layers are always organized in the same way and I keep often-reused materials (like the lineart for Chris' staff) in separate files for easy access. Of course, the specifics are dependent on how you draw, but this has made a world of difference for me personally.

It's okay to experiment and change things. Figure out what works for you -- some folks do comics entirely as sketches or lineart without coloring, you'll see book-style vs. scrolling/vertical webcomics, and all that. It's okay to swap things up if you find that something isn't working out. Don't get too caught up in everything being "perfect," just experiment and see what makes you happy.

(Side note, but if anyone here specifically uses Clip Studio Paint and wants to talk about platform-specific details like brushes or using certain tools, feel free to send me a message on Tumblr/Discord about it. I am by no means a master of Clip Studio, but I am at least familiar with the particular tools I frequently use and can give info on them!)

Based on personal experience, a random cave halfway down to Hell. 90% chance that it’s completely enclosed and filled with random monsters, haha. Luckily the Dryad was there to stop him!

#purity town #not an update #pt asks

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kinokoshoujoart · 1 year ago

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scribbled down a relationship chart for the forgotten valley bros to collect my thoughts after snooping into their dialogue files, because i’m crazy over the barebones scraps of tiny interactions between them that we are given they’re a neat group of lads and i want to see them in lots of wacky situations together

rambling explanation and screenshots under the cut. spoilers for dialogue

gordy and gustafa are bffs and i love them!!!!!

they have mutual respect for each other… gustafa clearly admires and understands gordy’s art, and gordy seems to view gustafa as his closest confidant, he even gets you and Gustafa the new kitchen if you enter chapter 2 without being able to “afford” it yourself

they only really mention each other and don’t have anything to say about the other two boys

no one has anything bad to say about gustafa, which is exactly how it should be. blessed bard. it’s extra sweet to me that he’s the most well-liked bachelor both in and out of the game given one of the npc gossip lines your son can tell you— he grew up without many friends (in the original game the secret was that he was bullied). he deserves all the happiness in the world

matt opinions

matt shares his Opinions (slander) on gordy and rock specifically if you show him your kid with them, but has no slander for gustafa… his line for gustafa is instead just copied from what he says about the bachelorettes’ kids. so i count that as a gustafa win

i had to stretch to find any mention of gustafa by matt, the closest thing is that he comments that he doesn’t usually go to the starlight concert

i want gustafa and matt to interact!!! i want gustafa to give matt a tomato when he’s being gruff like he did with nami (matt: “th-thank you…..*blush* i already have ten billion of these”) matt also has lines about farm work being easier when you’ve got music accompanying you if you show him a record so i’ll count that as a very flimsy positive connection (matt IS friendly with gavin, due to frequenting the bluebird café, but is a bit reticent to make friends on his own)

rock opinions and social diseases

rock is extremely excited about hearing gustafa play music and calls him a wizard at the guitar and says he never gets tired of hearing him play. he also likes wandering over to gustafa’s yurt and listening to his music along with tei on market days (his most normal bachelor to bachelor interaction)

the only guy who gets no positive comment from rock is matt, instead rock goes to town roasting him in his fourth heart event out of envy for a completely imaginary situation and argues that he’s worth a hundred matthew’s (source?). he also likes to go into the already crowded farmhouse at night on market days and make it even more cramped, but he usually leaves right before matt gets home

finally rock has what i can only describe as a really odd one-sided crush on gordy!! he meanders into gordy’s trailer at 12:45 AM (AM) every market day and loudly, obliviously asks why there’s so much “trash” everywhere (you’re the trash, rock!!!!!!). thankfully rock is quite literally beneath gordy’s notice, however this seems to make rock sad and he tries to come up with wacky stunts to get gordy’s attention like drawing on gordy’s face and… holding his breath? (maybe, i dunno WHERE that dialogue triggers). he has a line celebrating gordy finally noticing him, i’m not sure what causes it though (for his part, gordy has no lines referencing rock)

finally, if you show rock your kid he will tease them by bragging that he was waaaay cuter at their age… but ONLY if it’s a bachelor’s child. rock your complex is so obvious that it’s more of a simple

in summary,

rock seems to think highly of each of the guys (except matt), unfortunately this manifests in him making really odd attempts to barge into their houses at strange hours and by trying to assert dominance in annoying ways. thankfully no one really notices anything he does (except matt)

matt doesn’t generally say nice things about anyone except cecilia (which makes the nice things he says, like about nina, more meaningful…) so unsurprisingly he has nothing nice to say about any of the guys, but he doesn’t have anything negative to say about gustafa. however he seems to want friends to do stuff with (he complains about how no one in the valley wants to go swimming…..hhhgg i am desperate to force rock and matt to spend time together. a friendship where you can’t stand each other but you’re the only two people who enjoy doing the same hobby so you put your differences aside and splash around in the water) like with rock no one really seems aware of matt’s existence except rock who is Extrwmely Aware to the point of knowing about matt’s crush on ceci, but unlike rock matt is not exactly jumping at the chance to go socialize with others

gustafa and gordy are friends with each other (and also both are friends with nami) and they support each others ambitions. i have no source but i’m confident that when gustafa visits gordy he’s also bringing him water and soup (he also visits daryl so i think it’s cool and fun if gustafa drops in on the local lost-in-thought creative hermits with hydration reminders and care packages)

#i really love all 4 of these boys i. i clearly have a babygirl but i am not immune to any of them #and each guy is not just standing out from the other 3 but also wildly different from all other bkmn men #the magic ingredient called ‘not designed to be a marriage candidate’ is the secret spice that makes me want to marry bkmn men #also this is why my husband needs to be set loose. please go outside and cause havoc honey you haven’t stepped off the farm since we wed #sos awl #bokumono #will probably make doodles based on some of the dialogue lines #gustafa (awl)#story of seasons #harvest moon a wonderful life #rock (awl)#story of seasons a wonderful life #gordy (awl)#matthew (awl)#sos awl spoilers #sos: awl #extremely sane posting hours #rock tumbling (sos)

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lunaerys-archeron · 1 year ago

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The Shadow Queen - Chapter I

(Daemon Targaryen x OC! Lunaerys Novak)

Prologue | Chapter two

For caution, most of this is fictional not included in the books or show!! So there will be more than a few of my original characters that have last names of main characters.

The sounds of neighs and hooves pouding against the grounds echoed throught the nature, several horses moving just as happily to return to their home, as much as their riders were. The sounds of armor being clunked together, banners of a single wolf surrounded by bones and ash, colors of black and gold being waved by the cloaks on the shoulders of the warriors returning. Eyes beamed with excitement as they followed their commander to the gates of their home.

"Great warriors of the East. We have returned undefeated once again!" A strong voice boasted as she halted for her giant black wolf, stopping by the gates of her home. She wore a proud and victorious smirk under her helm.

"Once we pass through those gates, you will no longer be stray men and women. But strong and willed warriors of a won battle." Her voice had been filled with leadership, her men and women warriors cheered for their commander, pounding their fists against their armor.

The gates to their Kingdom had opened. They were home.

"Princess Lunaerys Novak, heir to the ash-blood throne, future Lady of the Shadow Hills, Warden of the East, and Commander of the mercenaries." Ser Rickard Starlight announced loudly to the people that had gathered to witness the arrival of their future Queen and the warriors of Adrithe.

"Blessings to the four gods princess."

"May the four be with our undefeated warriors."

"May the God of war honor you."

The free folk began to chant as their princess and her mercenaries rode past them towards and through the entire city. They cheered in relief and pride, their protectors had once again defeated a great threat to their Kingdom.

Lunaerys Novak unsaddled her great wolf, patting her head as she did so, giving her comfort after a long time being away in battle. "Rest my dear friend." A young boy comes her way, Alan Vaulant, her squire and the soon-to-be lord of his house, learning under her guidance.

“Princess Lunaerys, welcome home.” The boy greeted with a polite bow and smile.

“Alan, it seems she missed you as well.” Lunaerys laughed when her wolf, Pandora nudged the boy with her snout wishing to be greeted as well, “watch over her will you? And you Pandora, take care of him.” She bid both a goodbye as Alan and Pandora walked to the fields of grass to roust in.

“Princess, your father, the King, wishes for your presence in the throne room.” A knight named Aethen Starfyre called to the young woman.

Lunaerys gave a nod to her childhood friend, "Thank you Aethen, do be sure that Ser Rickard and Ser Harland don't cause too much trouble. We've only just returned."

"You have my word princess." Ser Aethen chuckled, joining the Starlight twins into the ale house.

Lunaerys made her way to the throne room, she knew who was expecting her after her arrival to Adrithe. Her father. King Aelor. As she walked her way through the godswood the servants and maids all bowed when she walked past them, earning small smiles from the Princess. Her armor made a small noise as her black and gold cloak waved behind her.

"Ser Fergus, I see you're still alive old man." Lunaerys teased with a grin as she caught the eye of her father's friend guarding the throne room door.

"Princess I see you were victorious." Ser Fergus Redmond scoffed playfully. "I was sure the rogues would've killed you this time, I lost coin because of you." His grin matched her own.

"Careful Ser, I can have your head for your words."

"Oh but who would put up with you then?" Ser Redmond laughed.

"Is he angry?" Lunaerys asked, her bright mood changing instantly, remembering why she had come to the Throne room.

"He was for a short time, you're his only child, Lunaerys." Ser Fergus wore a glum look remembering the way his friend suffered after Lunaerys went off into battle, not knowing the status of his only child.

Lunaerys faced the ground in shame.

She never meant to cause her father any pain. She then faced forward as Ser Redmond opened the throne room doors. "Thank you, Ser."

She walked down the short steps, where her eyes met those whom she inherited it from. Her father, Aelor Novak, King of Adrithe. Many would've found him slightly intimidating, as the great King sat on a throne made of bones.

Lunaerys shuddered as she took in the presence of her father. His once bright blue eyes, now dull with worry.

She was to kneel on one knee, her head ready to be bowed preparing herself to apologize to her father for her doings. She never met the ground. Instead was buried into familiar arms, feeling the warmth of the wolf blood flowing through his veins.

"My girl. My little warrior." Aelor whispered, holding his daughter tightly to him, too afraid to let go. One year. A year that his only child had gone to war never once hearing word of her status. Paranoid thoughts ran through his head during the twelve moons. Was she hurt? Was she even alive? "You are home. Thank the gods."

Lunaerys did not hesitate another second and wrapped her arms around her father, returning his embrace. There a father and daughter had reunited.

"I'm sorry father."

Her father stepped back slightly, his hands holding onto Lunaerys' shoulders.

"No need for your apology. I should've understood, having a warrior as a daughter would never be easy. I just never wanted to lose you, like I lost your mother."

Lunaerys smiled sadly at the mention of her mother, she had died of a fever that plagued their Kingdom, leaving peacefully in her sleep.

"Would she be proud of me?" Her mismatched eyes, one gold like every member of house Novak and the other blue as the seas, just like her mother had the. Her eyes were filled with sadness and hope.

"Very, my little warrior." Aelor smiled before he placed a gentle kiss on her head.

In the throne room, a father and daughter had been reunited. But soon they would be separated as the girl would soon be of age to begin her own journey.

___________________________

"Welcome to you all! For tonight's feast will be in the honor of the return of my daughter and her mercenaries. For they have slayed another enemy, vanquishing the threat to our people!" King Aelor announced to the court that it had been settled for tonight's evening.

The noble houses all clapped and cheered for their princess and her mercenaries, either slamming their fists or their cups on the tables. They were proud that their Kingdom remained as they always had been. Unconquered by their enemies, protected by the wolf of the East.

"Tonight we shall thank and honor those who risked their lives for our Kingdom. May the God of War honor them and the others to allow them a place in their heavenly Kingdom" Lunaerys and the rest of those present had joined their King in his toast lifting their cups of ale into the air, "let tonight's feast commence."

With the words of their King the noble houses had begun their feasting, making conversations within their own house or with people from others. Though men and some women would sneak quick glances to the royal family's table, hoping to catch the beautiful eyes of the Princess. She had surely changed over the years in war, her face strong, jaw defined. Her beautiful mismatched eyes seemed brighter than ever before.

Lunaerys held a small grin behind her cup of ale, it was amusing as she felt the not subtle looks being thrown her way. Her grin grew as Aethen gave an amused snort her way. House Starfyre had been sworn to her own house since her great-great grandfather was King of Adrithe, she would find herself missing something, if Aethen was not by her side. They had been long friends ever since they were mere babes, their mothers friends before them. To add, they were born on the same day.

"Princess Lunaerys, would you so honor me. And join me for a dance." Ser Rickard had asked from a few feet away from the royal table.

Lunaerys nodded and joined the knight on the floor.

Music began to play, drums bearing like hearts of winds, calling out to the souls of the people. The particular song was one of Lunaerys' favorites, a song created for Adrithe's victory against the Dragons.

Lords and Ladies joined the princess and the knight on the floor, as the dance was turning to a switch in partners. The melody softened to something that was known by history, this particular dance was to resemble the one that was once shared between King Silas Novak and Queen Visenya Targaryen.

Forever forbidden love.

"You look radiant tonight, Lunaerys." Rickard whispered to the princess' ear.

"You clean up well Rickard. I almost did not recognize you." Lunaerys stifles a chuckle when the knight glared at her playfully.

"You wound me princess." Rickard lifted Lunaerys in his arms as the others followed in suit, the dance replica of the wolf and dragon. "You have once again lead us to victory, how does it feel?"

The eastern princess sighed deeply with a small smile.

"Good. Our home remains its own. Though my father has informed me, this will only add to the incoming ravens of betrothal offers."

Ser Rickard laughed, twirling the princess around a few times, before taking her in his arms again. "Anyone would be honored to have a woman such as yourself as a wife. I know of someone that would die for your hand.." It was now Lunaerys who lightly chuckled under her breath, "Who did you have in mind, Ser Starlight?" She teased, but before she received an answer she was spun to the next partner,

Now she was in the arms of the other Starlight twin, Ser Harland. One thing that was acknowledged by the people of Mordun, was that everyone knew the closeness the Starlight twins had with the princess. Though small rumors began that it was either Rickard or Harland that was in a secret relationship Lunaerys, but none were so brave to whisper these rumors in the Starlight twins’ faces, nor for it to make word to her father, King Aelor, who would surely cut the tongues of those who whispered of his only child, meeting their death soon after.

“Harland.” Lunaerys greeted with a smile.

“Princess.” Harland returned with a cheeky grin, without ease lifting the young woman in his arms and circling both of themselves around.

The two teenagers were completely oblivious to the many stares they were getting, the others in attendance either whispered the countless rumors made in their minds, or they gushed how beautiful Lunaerys and Harland would be together. They saw as they danced together, their height was laughable, but an adorable one. Two fierce and strong souls. They had grown together, and fought together. They were always seen near one another when Aethen was not by her side. They were Princess Lunaerys Novak and Ser Harland Starlight. A wolf and hound. A princess and knight. Friends for eternity.

_______________________________________________________

King Aelor sat in his council meeting the following morrow, rather focused to the conversations happening around him. As custom he sat at the head of the table, his closest advisor Lord Ambrose Redmond, brother to Ser Fergus, his sworn protector, and another dear friend. He tried to stay focused on the Master of Whispers speaking to him about something unimportant to the council. He ran his fingers against the russet colored fur of his large wolf, Allyan, who even kneeling to the ground reached past Aelor's height.

“What point are you trying to make, Lord Peter?” King Aelor huffed, leaning forward on his arms that rested against the table.

“A raven was spotted late at night, your grace.” Lord Peter Lagos began to backtrack to his reason for this meeting, handing the letter to Ser Fergus, who then handed the letter to the King.

“A three-headed dragon seal?” The Wolf King said in slight surprise. It has been long since the Dragons of King’s Landing ever tried to contact the Kingdom of Adrithe, since after his father became King.

“The Targaryen’s?” Lord Lucas Starfyre, the Master of Laws, asked in wonder. Why have the, above the gods and men believers, send them a raven? It has been nearly twenty years since their last attempt.

The council watched in anticipation as Aelor unraveled the letter. The Kings’ eyes followed each letter as he read them, his eyes widening in shock, then in slight annoyance as he reached the end. “Of course, another raven asking for my daughters’ hand.”

The council looked at each other before looking at their King worriedly.

“Surely the King does not offer his grandson to take her as a second wife?” Lady Myriah Vaulant, the Mistress of Ships asked. The Kingdom had known that Prince Viserys’ wife had failed to bring a son, and gave birth to a firstborn daughter instead. They did not shame the lady Aemma, but they felt some sort of pity as she was forced to another pregnancy shortly after the miscarriage of her lost child.

“No. But Jaehaerys does offer his youngest grandson, Prince Daemon Targaryen.”

The name of the dragon prince caught the attention of Aelor. It was no secret that the adventures of Westeros’ Rogue Prince made it all the way to Adrithe. The prince was said to enjoy his freedom and liked to cause trouble with that advantage coming with being of royal blood, many called him a womanizer for bedding many women in the brothels, but no one would dare shame him as not only was a prince, but he was also not married.

Though King Jaehaerys Targaryen had hoped with the things he heard of the intelligent and strong minded princess of Adrithe, Lunaerys would be able to hound down his grandson to become a good man. But Aelor would not have his daughter forced into a loveless marriage, nor one of convenience, he would give her the same opportunity he had.

“It seems our princess has made quite the impression during the battle, impressing a member of the Targaryen family takes quite a lot.” Lord Redmond snickered towards the KIng, but then sent him a small glare when Aelor kicked him from under the table.

“Who knows of the reasons that King Jaehaerys has to offer his grandson, but I will not give my daughter, unless she decides it is what she wants.” The council nodded with agreement to their King's words.

“Where is the princess, if I may ask your grace?” Lady Solia Darros questioned.

King Aelor smiled, his daughter was not one for meetings just yet. He had given her a break from her duties after being away for a year, his daughter deserved to be a young woman with freedom before she was backed into her duties forever.

“My daughter spends her time as she wishes, Lady Darros. She has a free spirit, just like her mother, one that can never be diminished.”

As the council continued with their conversations, a certain Princess had left her chambers and took her loyal companion for a small ride into the forests.

She was truly a free spirit.

__________________________________

Lunaerys held her bow close, drawing to the target in front of her, her eyes stilled on the sight, a large boar sniffing away to the trails the young woman made to draw it in. She held her breath as it came closer, then, with one breath out, she let her arrow loose. The boar let out noises of pain as it began to scurry away, but it was met with its end when a large wolf pounced onto it. Wails of its strangulation were heard loudly, before it limped in the locked jaws of its killer, crimson liquid appearing on the snout of the wolf drawing lines down into the grassy ground.

The princess walked closer to her companion, “You did well my girl, enjoy your catch.” She walked close to a tree sitting on its sprouting roots, she relaxed against the tall life. The scenery around her was beautiful, that is something she loved about her home, the beauty of the surrounding nature. The trees moving with life with the winds coursing movements, the bright skies glowing bright with the sun's radiance.

“You always preferred the outside world.” A teasing voice made Lunaerys open her eyes and sigh in announced.

"And you always had a way to rekove my peace, Aethen." Lunaerys joked her eyes closing once again, as she leaned back to the tree behind her. She chuckled when hearing his scoff.

"Well, who would protect the dear princess of Adrithe better than I? Her sworn guard and her most cherished friend." Aethen praised himself as he practically invaded Lunaerys' calming space by taking a seat right next to her. They both bumped their shoulders together playfully, trying to push the other away. "Hello Pandora, at least someone enjoys my presence." Aethen exclaimed with glee when the large wolf greeted him with a nudge to his side, he ran his fingers against her black fur.

"Traitor." The Novak scoffed with a pout. Pushing Pandora away when the wolf tried to nuzzle her head to her side as well. But the princess gave in, and began to scratch Pandora's head behind her ears. Lunaerys chuckled at the wolf's pleased huffs, and as Pandora layed behind both she and Aethen, her body curling around them.

"What is on your mind, Lunaerys?" Aethen asked with concern. The young man had noticed the way Lunaerys had been acting since they returned to Adrithe, she seemed different, more so than any time they had left to battle, "Is it Wayland again?"

Lunaerys eyes opened suddenly at the particular name. She had nor heard anyone else say the name in almost three years. It still hurt, hearing that name. One she had once cherished so deeply.

"No—no Aethen it is not Wayland that had been plaguing my mind. But rather my realization of the duties I will be expected to meet."

Aethen smiled lowly, "Ah yes. Your father has informed me of the many ravens that he received of Lords all over Westeros offering the hands of their sons. You are quite the topic, my dear friend."

Lunaerys scoffed in distaste, "The only reason for that many offers is due to those Lords wanting to see their son as King to an unconquered Kingdom. It is all they lust for in Westeros, power and their ambition bleeds to make it possible."

"Yes but Adrithe is different, Lunaerys. They may become your future husband, but it is you that we will all see as Queen. It is you that we will follow, not them, but you."

The Princess smiled at her friend and protector, she leaned her head against his shoulder, "Thank you, Aethen. You're always helping to ease my mind."

"It is my duty Princess, not only as your sworn shield, but as your friend." Aethen said resting his cheek against her head, "I heard that you have received another betrothal offer this morrow."

Lunaerys snorted a chuckle, "Yes those pesky Lannisters do not know when to stop do they?"

"I do don't speak of the Lannister's, I speak of the offer Jaehaerys Targaryen has made to offer the hand of his youngest grandson." The knight mumbled before Lunaerys moved her head away, and looked up to him suprised.

"Jaehaerys Targaryen sent my father a raven?" Lunaerys asked out loud, but mostly asked herself. Why would Jaehaerys try to offer his grandson? Perhaps this was another way of the Westeros King to men the broken treaty that his uncle long broke. "Interesting. How it would be to marry a man of dragon blood."

Aethen raised a brow in question, though he was equally concern when he saw Lunaerys look in thought. "Surely you're not thinking of accepting Lunaerys. Daemon Targaryen is wild, they call him the rogue prince for reasons, my dear friend."

The Princess only ignored him, she truly wondered what all the gossip about the Targaryen Prince was about. He surely couldn't be as handsome as they say, but she did believe the Whispers of his lustful ways in the brothels. Lunaerys knew that Jaehaerys wanted this marriage as a way to tame his youngest grandson, to better control his ways and become the ideal Prince.

"Of course not, who do take me for? While this would do well for duty, as Daemon Targaryen is to be known as a fine knight within his realms, but, I am not sure he will do well here in Adrithe." Lunaerys stifles a giggle imagining the trials that Daemon would have to go through in Adrithe to become her husband and a knight on their terms, not in Westeros.

How fun it would be to see it.

"Ah, the trials of earning the knighthood," Aethen sighed remembering the day he passed his own and earned his knighthood, "not many succeed the trials. But it would be entertaining to see him try completing the trials for your marriage."

Lunaerys and Aethen laughed together, but as they did so they stopped when King Aelor stepped into their view, his wolf Allyan standing tall behind him.

"Your grace." Aethen bowed now standing on his feet.

"Aethen, do mind to leave me and my daughter for a moment?" Aelor asked with a small smile at the knight.

"Of course your grace." Ser Starfyre sent once last look to Lunaerys before he walked away, leaving the King and his heir alone.

King Aelor let out a deep sigh, as he sat next to his only child he looked around. The small sounds of the water from the river clashing softy with the rocks in between. The area was quite beautiful, the greenery around seemed to grow even more beautiful with the sun's rays. He remembers this place.

The only place where he took his wife, Erys, the day he asked for her hand in marriage. Then after their daughter was born, they brought her here and would spend their days away from the stressful court.

This was the place they could just be together.

"I'm sure you either heard, or Aethen has informed you of the raven that was sent to Adrithe?" The king asked his daughter as they both stared towards the flowing river. But he received no answer from her only more silence, "Lunaerys, know that I would never force you to marry."

"I know", Lunaerys turned to look at her father. She wore a smile, one that resembled her mother's, "but I understand my duty father."

Aelor took his daughter into his arms, basking her in his comfort filled warmth that only a father could bring to his child. He tried to keep his daughter happy, he knew she appreciated the things he did for her, but he so hated the ways things were. He loathed that his daughter focused more on things that were yet to come, rather than to live her life in the slight freedom she had. But he knew that his daughter was too loyal and too wise to go against her duites, from a young age she was taught the things an heir to a Kingdom should be. She learned too much before she was to live happy life of a child.

"My daughter. My only child and solace in this world, you will make a fine Queen to this Kingdom."

Lunaerys smiled and held her father just as much as he held her. She enjoyed these moments when it was the to of them, a father and daughter just being themselves, carefree.

"Linōt eyssīa, mīedys." I love you, my daughter.

"Linōt eyssīa, lokto." I love you, father.

The father and daughter sat in the peaceful silence.

They enjoyed the breathtaking world around them, for they both knew that soon they would not see it again in many years.

_______________________________________________________

It had been two moons since King Jaehaerys Targaryen sent raven to Adrithe. It had been nearly one hundred years since anyone from Westeros has seen a person of Old Flame blood, Jaehaerys had remembered the last time he saw a member from the house Novak. It was when he first became King, and he tried to reconcile with King Lucian Novak to bring back the peace treaty his grandfather, Aegon I, had created. But the wolves of the East were not ones to forgive and forget if without good reason, for House Novak was one of loyalty and trust. Maegor Targaryen had long broken that bond.

It was early morrow, Jaehaerys sat in his own chambers breaking his fast in silence until a servant of his house came in silently.

"Your grace." The young man bowed standing next to the King's sworn guard.

"What is it?" Jaehaerys sighed tiredly, he only was visited either if important news came to King's Landing, or his youngest grandson Daemon had done something Daemon like.

"A falcon was spotted before the sun's light had risen, it carried this in its hold." The young man walked closer to the King handing him the rolled parchment.

The eyes of the King widened.

A black and gold wolf sigil. Unbroken at that.

"Thank you, you may leave." Jaehaerys dismissed the young man with a wave of his hand, he waited until the doors to his chambers closed shut to open the letter.

Jaehaerys Targaryen,

It is to my understanding that you have long wished to fix what your uncle had long broken many years ago. War had been called against your Kingdom and mine, for things that were mistaken and took to far. Both our families and Kingdom's suffered for such mistakes.

Though, we both wish to make things right.

My house, House Novak is not one to easily forgive nor forget. We have not forgotten what your house has done to mine, but it seems you bring a well enough reason to fix what was broken. But know this, if it is your wish to give the hand of your grandson to my daughter he must face many challenges and trials against our most fine fighters in our realm. For the hand of my daughter is no prize, for she does not need anyone to rule greatly beside her.

But alas my daughter understands her duties, as any good heir should.

In the name of King Aelor Novak and his heir Princess Lunaerys Novak, we fully accept your offer. For your grandson will wed my daughter if passed the trials given. Pray to your gods of the Valyrian or the Seven, for if your house takes our forgiveness to an dismay. We will finish what my ancestors had long started.

— King Aelor Novak, First of his name. King of Adrithe, Lord of Morukk, and Warden of the East, the Protector of the Old Flame.

Jaehaerys Targaryen was relieved, House Targaryen and House Novak would be untied as they were longed to be. But he knew the grieve consequences this could have on not only his Kingdom, but to his family. For he knew if his blood would continue their rebellious ways, filled with anger, betrayal.

For the only thing that could bring the end to the house of the dragons, was itself.

Lunaerys and House Novak would be the savior his house needed.

______________________________

#daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen fanfic #rhaenyra targaryen #aemond targaryen #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfic #house targaryen #aemond fanfiction #house aellos #house novak #game of thrones fanfiction

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feyres-divorce-lawyer · 1 year ago

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ok my eye kinda twitches when ppl, even jokingly, jab at feyre for not knowing the answer to the riddle immediately because like… that’s the point

setting aside her illiteracy, her not knowing the answer until the very end is the point because she has went through what the riddle says:

“there are those who seek me a lifetime, but never we meet”

feyre seeks love from the people around her, she seeks it from her sisters, from her father, even when she knows it’ll never happen, she seeks it from isacc, and the person she seeks love from the most? her mother. her mother is whole reason she’s hunting. every time she shot an arrow, it was for her mother; are you paying attention to me now, mom? am i good enough now? and this love from her mother is a love she’ll never meet because the bitch is dead

“and those i kiss but who trample me beneath ungrateful feet”

from feyre’s pov, she’s the savior of her family. she’s the one who hunts, she’s the one who keeps them all alive, and that’s how she shows love, and yet (again from her pov) they don’t seem all that appreciative of it.

“as times i seem to favor the clever and the fair”

nesta, the clever and elain, the fair. to feyre, she was always left out of whatever bond nesta and elain had formed with each other before she was born. the love they hold for each other seemed far greater than the love she had for them

“but i bless all those who are brave enough to dare”

and here is where things start to change. her being brave enough to shoot that wolf brings her tamlin, the first person in her life that she has never had to provide for. he takes care of her and most importantly he takes care of her family. he releases her from her self-apointed burden and for the first time in eight years, the only person she’s responsible for keeping alive is herself. tamlin is the reason for all this, that makes him the man she grows to love. she was blessed with him.

“by large, my ministrations are soft-handed and sweet”

once she’s acclimated to spring (tamlin did forcibly break into her home and knocked her out) feyre’s happy. she left the cottage with the belief that there was no such thing as a better world and completely devoid of hope. compared to when she’s in spring, her biggest worries of the day is trying to convince alis to let her wear pants. tamlin, bar calanmai, is the softest and shiest man she’s ever met. he makes her poems out of words she chose, he encourages her inner artist, he takes her to swim in a pool of starlight, he lets her see the world through his eyes and, even if it was just for a moment, it was mesmerizing.

“but scorned, i become a difficult beast to defeat”

and here is where there’s trouble in paradise. tamlin sends feyre away with his false explanation of the blight, of course feyre doesn’t listen and comes back anyway, and she learns of amarantha. amarantha who tricked all the high lords and rendered them practically powerless against her. and why? because she was scorned by tamlin, who she chased for centuries (eww btw). feyre’s trials are exceptionally difficult, especially the third, because amarantha wanted to prove feyre unworthy of the love she was scorned of, prove the inconsistent heart of a human

“for though each of my strikes lands a powerful blow,”

amarantha is beating feyre up, every strike of her hand breaks another one of feyre’s bones. she’s broken and bloody, and at this rate, she is going to die.

“when i kill, i do it slow”

but she’d already been dying, hasn’t she? every second under the mountain, every day in that cell rotting away, every night she was forced to dance, when she broke her arm killing the wyrm, when she was almost skewered by hot spikes, when she had to stab those faeries. it was already killing her, over three slow months. why had she done this again?

oh yeah,

“But I wouldn’t say it. Because loving Tamlin was the only thing I had left, the only thing I couldn’t sacrifice.”

she loves him, your honor

#acotar proving once again to be the best book in this garbage series #me realizing halfway through this that ch. 44 is the exact same thing #now that i think about it #the very existence of the riddle further proves how horribly written acomaf was #pro feyre #she really stared an evil queen down and refused to admit she didn’t love her man #ugh that shit was so cool #acotar #acotar analysis #pro tamlin #pro feylin

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melziekit · 2 months ago

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As Bright As The Night

Do the stars align for those who are borne not under its sky? Aka Snippets of Kaeya's life after he's abandoned in Mondstat

Also on AO3

(Chapter Notes Here)

Characters: Kaeya, Diluc, Crepus, Adelinde, Mentioned Varka, Mentioned Jean Content: Fluff and Angst, References to Canon, Kaeya Angst, Diluc and Kaeya are Siblings, Parent Crepus, Parental Adelinde

Chapter 1

Word Count: 1.7k

Kaeya is born under the glow of starlight.

His hair grows out in the shade of the hottest flame, free-flowing as the waves between the night sky. His skin, gently kissed by the sweetest mocha tone. Perhaps it was left over from those soft, tender kisses his father would leave on his mother's stomach. Those spare moments where the reagents of Khaenri’ah would get a moment to themselves, after tireless, late nights and groggy, overworked mornings. There was never time to rest, not even for the most powerful of leaders.

Nonetheless, Kaeya is a tapestry, weaving aspects from the lines of his blood into a beautiful mural. A blessing to the nation of the non-dreamers, his small family calls him the best gift they could ever dream of having.

Everyone he remembers seeing shares the same eyes, carrying the stars in their gazes. Their stars reflect his own, and the ones above. He is taught that there are worlds among the glowing dots in the sky where people and things live, but none have ever made it up there. At least, so far.

They consider it a blessing not to be governed by gods, unlike those who have suffered eons of blood battles across their lands, in a place far away. Here, they are free to do what they want, roam wherever they please, and create all they wish. Here, they can choose to be whoever they want to be. For only they will know the truth.

His family gathers every night in their shared bed, watching the stars twinkle through the open circle in the ceiling. Kaeya falls asleep as a toddler, safe in the arms of the ones he loves. He hopes that someday, he can explore the expanse of the abyss beyond the small world he calls home.

The stars watch as Kaeya uses their glow to study ancient passages and swing his blade into the emptiness of his room. Gold-plated embellishments around the area gleam under the soft light, peeking out from the cover of the night. He can start to feel the parts of his palm beginning to sore from the tight grip on his wooden blade. Blinking out the sleep wanting to overtake his small form, he forces himself to run through the exercise again.

"We of the Alberich Clan should lead lives as those who blaze like fire, rather than those who wallow in the embers."

He must become that flame, to light up his nation and cast everything else into shadows. He must not show weakness. He should not show mercy.

Clouds of smog and magic blanket the world. Kaeya's breathing is rough as he's carried away. He was snatched from his bed, cradled into his father's arms and they fled. Kaeya doesn't know what's happened, or why his mother never followed. People, monsters, and unidentifiable humanoid creatures alike swarm the city.

He keeps quiet though, because as the next heir of the Alberich clan, he should become a flawless leader that embodies perfection itself. He should set the example, to be serene, yet firm in every decision he makes. He wants nothing more than to scream at the chaos.

Kaeya wishes he could at least see the star present in his own eyes, to gain some comfort through this purgatory. They had gone through some sort of rift, a mass of energy that felt dangerous as his father conjured the split. But he didn't, couldn't, open his mouth to say so when they jumped through.

Now, the two are frozen in place, left to watch darkness for eternity. His father still holds him, but neither has moved for quite some time. He can't shift his head, or wiggle the tips of his fingers. He can't open his mouth, which reminds him that they should probably eat soon. But strangely enough, it has surely been hours and he isn't feeling hungry yet.

His eyes don't water either, even though they're snapped open. And so he waits. He waits again, and then a little more. But there is no color, not a quiver in the air or a sensation past the long dulled touch on his back. Dully, he wonders if this is what death was like. All he does is continue to look, eyes open but never able to see.

Kaeya nearly cries from relief when he numbly falls onto the ground, the world illuminated with color once more. He's crumpled in a heap on the dirt, still slightly warm from the sun that clawed its last marks on the sky as it was dragged away from the night. It burns on his skin. He blinks for the first time. Another, and again. His chest hurts with the way he greedily sucks in the air, scented with trees, soil, and something slightly sweet.

Someone had opened another rift in the darkness. He was blinded by the first traces of light, but he could focus just enough to see a human-like figure before falling out. Kaeya shakily moves his limbs, his hands are barely able to support the weight of his body.

He hears his father grunt, and stand. He talks to the person, who Kaeya doesn't recognize. They wear similar clothes to the knights in Khaenri'ah but this most certainly doesn't look like home. He gets to his feet at a snail's pace, and his eyes widen after his father puts a hand on his shoulder.

The stars bring him no comfort. He doesn't have the mind to look at them, can't process anything at the moment, really.

"If Master Crepus hadn't taken me in, I doubt I'd have made it through the storm that night," he would later tell curious patrons at Angel's Share in his future.

Yes. A storm. The flurry of emotions in his chest had no better description than that. His father told him that it was his chance, that he was the last hope. For what? For his family? For Khaenri'ah? He doesn't know, as his father goes through another rift again, this time with the mysterious person leading the way. Kaeya runs to the cloud of twilight... and goes through it. He trips and falls into the dirt once more. The portal disappears in silence.

A man with a bushy red mane for hair finds him not long after, sobbing and covered in filth. He kneels between the rows of violet grapes and extends a hand to Kaeya. Kaeya backpedals into a bush and stammers out violent warnings to stay away. The man only keeps his steady gaze. Hesitantly, Kaeya reaches out and takes the hand. He gets picked up and cradled in one arm. He's unbothered by the way the dirt rubs into the pristine, high-quality cotton of his dress shirt. Kaeya tucks his head against the stranger's chest and closes his eyes, falling into a deep sleep. It's warm.

A fire burns on the opposite side of the room. This place is strange. It's baffling how similar, yet so different to home. The walls are too thin, and the room is too small. It makes him feel like he's in a hole in the ground, trapped with no way to escape. The floor is made out of wood and not stone, which makes Kaeya think that it's probably going to be a fire hazard.

But the sheets are soft and smell like sunlight. It eases the fear he has when he jerks awake from a nightmare, the image of Khaenri'ah burning, seared brightly behind his eyelids. He pants and rubs his eye furiously. His vision swims, and he forces his breathing to level out. It picks up again when a knock at the door catches him off guard. He immediately bristles up, star-shaped pupil narrowed like a cat.

The man with the red hair steps in, and sends him a friendly smile. It eases his tensed form slightly, but he narrows his eye at the second form behind the large figure. In comes a carbon copy of the man, in a much, much smaller form. The man points at himself and says something. Kaeya tilts his head. The man repeats it.

"Crepus."

Kaeya realizes that he's probably said his name. The boy shyly says his own.

"Diluc."

They watch Kaeya for his response. He swallows dryly and opens and closes his mouth a few times.

"Kaeya," he finally manages out.

Crepus says nothing, but the look in his eyes shows relief. He makes a few gestures, and Kaeya picks out the meaning. It's been about three days since he... arrived. Diluc shyly clings to his father's legs and stares at Kaeya with wide red eyes. He waves with small, stubby fingers. Kaeya only tilts his head in confusion, and Diluc runs away.

Over the next few months, their relationship will change, and no one would ever guess that Diluc was once scared of the other. They'll be bonded like they were born from the same womb. Still, his father's words won't be able to escape Kaeya's mind.

Days pass by slowly. Kaeya learns how to sneak out at night to catch glimpses of the stars from the roof. The window creaks if he pushes it out too far, but he quickly realizes the exact angles he needs for his small body to slip through. Cold red tiles chill his feet, but he ignores it in favor of being able to gain safety in this once comforting experience.

He has learned that the people here believe that everyone's fate has been interwoven with the glowing dots in the sky. Wryly, Kaeya wonders if he can find a constellation for him in this sky, if it would even exist.

The stars here are wrong. They hang as stationary pointed spheres; too close, and none of them pulse and shine like they're supposed to. He can't find the constellations that his mother would point out and trace with her finger each night. He doesn't see his favorite star, red and pulsing. It was the only one in the patch of soft white dots. A single beacon amidst monotony.

And now, there is only one glowing ball hovering in the sky. The moons that used to span over the sky, laid in their bed of twinkling diamonds, no longer exist in a trio. The last moon is small. It struggles to rise and fall every night. The details on its surface are hard to make out, unlike how it glowed with full radiance in Khaenri'ah. Still, it can chase off the sun by itself, mighty in quiet strength. "Perhaps," young Kaeya thinks to himself. "Perhaps there is another who might be like me."

#genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin kaeya #kaeya alberich #genshin diluc #diluc ragnvindr #genshin crepus #crepus ragnvindr #adelinde #ragbros #angst and fluff #references to lore #headcanons about kaeya's past #first fanfic #fanfic #ao3 writer #melziekit #melziekit posts

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lordgrimwing · 6 days ago

Text

On the Road to Eregion

Camnir gripped his satchel of coded maps the lore master gave him scarcely half a day ago. He could do this. He was doing this. He was going to lead a party of soldiers under the King’s herald across the old roads and to Eregion. Every elder he bumped into in the libraries impressed upon him the importance of speed and stealth and shared as much wisdom as he could fit in his head and notes. He could do this.

The lives of thousands of elves and the whole of Middle-earth hung in the balance.

No pressure.

He was going to be sick.

Elrond set them at a brisk jog up the mountain and didn’t let them break to eat until the sun was far past her zenith. Everything was going fine so far, even if he nearly choked on his spit every time Commander Galadriel snapped a question his way. He was going to mess up terribly and lose precious hours getting them back on course—and she’d be judging him the whole way.

He’d heard stories about the commander of the northern armies.

The lump of dense bread and dried meat in his stomach churned threateningly.

“Eat.”

Camnir looked up from where he was sitting on a fallen log.

Vorohil, the strawberry blond soldier, stood over him. “Eat,” he repeated, gesturing a sword-calloused hand at the food he’d abandoned.

“I can’t,” he murmured and looked down.

With a sigh, Vorohil sat next to him on the decaying log, adjusting one of the swords that hung from his belt, so it didn’t whack the original occupant. He picked up the bread and pressed it into Camnir’s empty palm. “Eat,” he exhorted. “You won’t keep up this pace if you don’t feed your body. And you’re the one person we can’t leave behind.” He snorted at the end and his voice became less somber. He was being encouraging.

Embarrassed by his doubts, Camnir admitted, “I fear I’ll be sick if I try.”

Vorohil clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Then you will join the ranks of fine men and women who threw up on the eve of their first battle. A noble fellowship.”

What an easy thing for him to say.

Camnir knew Vorohil. Well, they hadn’t met before today and this was the first time they spoke, but he’d read about him in Lindon’s libraries. This whole venture probably felt no different than a walk along the shore to a warrior of the first age. He fought in the Battle of Unnumbered Tears, survived the Fall of Gondolin and the Sinking of Beleriand. It was a small thing for him to be brave.

But Camnir hadn’t seen any of that. He’d been born in Mithlond in the second age, apprenticed to a dock master’s scribe and recently come to work for the king’s cartographers, and his highest aim was to become a scribe in the royal libraries—and if he was feeling very confident or maybe had more wine than was good for him, then maybe one day he might be a lore master himself.

He’d never even seen an orc.

“Enough,” Elrond’s voice rose sharply from the other side of the small glade they stopped in. He didn’t look happy about whatever Commander Galadriel had been talking to him about. “Camnir,” he said, turning on his heel and striding over. “Are we still on the right path?”

Camnir swallowed and his mouth was suddenly very dry. Why hadn’t he drunk more water? “Yes,” he managed. “We can keep this course until we’re over this mountain.”

“Good. Let’s go!” He barked at everyone else.

Vorohil heaved a sigh and braced his hands on his knees as he stood. “Put that in a pocket,” he admonished. “You’re going to be hungry.”

///

As the sun sank below the tree line, Camnir was both nauseated and hungry. Which didn’t make much sense. Oh, and his feet were wet.

The only blessing he could find was that this wasn’t his first time navigating by starlight.

He jumped at every unexpected sound, half convinced that a slovering orc would lunge out from behind every other tree. It was foolish, but even knowing Rían, Daemor, and Vorohil had started ranging out further to ensure no enemies were near did not reassure him. He hadn’t been this scared since—well, ever. If he survived this, he was never going to leave the safety of Lindon again if he could help it.

He jogged past a large pillar of stone half hewn from the mountain side. Long forgotten by now dead hands, the white stone still stood out in the night. He’d read several discourses on the pillar and the people who tried to claim it. They were mostly speculative and fascinating.

“Wait,” Camnir called softly, slowing to a stop just beyond the landmark.

The soft footfalls of his companions fell silent. Elrond looked at him, expectant.

“The stone marks a change in the path,” he explained in a hush, opening his satchel and fingering through the scrolls. “I need to check the maps.”

“Rest for a few minutes,” Galadriel said with authority.

Camnir knew there was tension between them, but he was too busy fishing out scrolls to notice the sharp look Elrond threw at Galadriel.

“Yes,” he said. “A brief rest only. We must reach Eregion as quickly as possible.”

Squinting at a map, Camnir twisted around, trying to find a spot with more star light. The lines of the map were faint and obscured within a code. In theory, the design was such that if the maps fell into unfriendly hands, they would be unusable so the secret ways would remain safe. In practice, it made reading them by night extraordinarily challenging.

“Here,” a voice said from just over his shoulder.

He dropped the map, swore in the same startled breath, and caught the parchment before it hit the ground. Spinning around, he found Vorohil holding out a hand. In his palm sat a smooth, flat gem, similar to a river stone. It emitted a soft glow, enough to gently illuminate the soldier’s features.

Heart pounding somewhere above his head, Camnir accepted the stone and held it trembling against the velum.

After triple-checking with two other maps, he surrendered the stone. “This way.”

And they started off again.

///

They didn’t rest again until the sun climbed overhead, offering them safety under her light.

Camnir undid the laces of his soft boots and pulled them off his feet. Mouth pulling down in distaste, he tugged off the wet socks. They were so encrusted that they perfectly held the shape of his feet when he finally got them off.

He really, really wanted to throw them as far away as possible or burn them on a bone fire. He settled for shoving them down to the very bottom of his light rucksack.

Fresh socks and sunlight improved his mood remarkably.

They made it through the night unmolested and unlost. He felt like he could eat a whole harvest feast by himself this morning. Maybe he actually could get them to Eregion. Now, where did he put his food?

“Hey now, let’s not be revealing my embarrassment in mixed company,” Vorohil chuckled, drawing Camnir’s attention to the conversation going on next to him.

“Mixed company?” Rían repeated, brandishing her bow.

“Careful,” Daemor said, removing their hand from the pommel of one of Vorohil’s short swords and shoving him playfully. “She’s slain more orcs with that bow than I can count.”

Vorohil brushed loose strands of his golden hair out of his face. “That isn’t so hard, friend,” he countered. “I meant the scholar.”

Camnir looked down. “I’m not a scholar, officially.”

Vorohil looked unbothered by the technicalities of academic titles.

“Anyone who can recite the history of a crumbling aqueduct in the middle of the night is a scholar,” Rían judged.

So, he might have gotten a little passionate about the ruins of a Mannish hamlet they passed through. He’d just needed a distraction from everything going on, and when no one shushed him after the first few sentences he carried on until the broken aqueduct was far behind them.

“I have yet to publish—” he tried to explain, but the conversation had moved on, leaving him to fumble off balance in its wake.

He really was the odd one out. They were warriors forged in combat. He wasn’t much of anything yet.

Perhaps he wouldn’t have felt so apart if he could talk with Elrond. The herald had studied under the scholars before finding a place at the king’s side. He’d thought that between the moments of panic, he might be able to speak with him about where his interests lay in the libraries. He would benefit from having an acquaintance in the court who saw him as more than someone who could fetch documents. But his hope was for not.

Every time they stopped or slowed, every time he tried to approach Elrond with anything other than course corrections, the way was blocked. Sometimes because Commander Galadriel had ensnared him in hushed, sharp conversations, sometimes because the tension between the pair was so thick he thought he would smother under it if he got near them. Whatever was going on, he didn’t want to get in the middle of it.

So, he sat on the edge of the soldiers’ quips and felt very far from home, indeed.

Reaching into his satchel, he pulled out maps for distraction. With any luck, they’d be through the barrowdowns, Tyrn Gorthad, tonight and in sight of the road to Eregion by the next evening.

///

Camnir stood on the moss-covered mound where they placed Daemor’s sword in place of the body they couldn’t find. Rían and Vorohil stood with him, the three of them standing in silent vigil. Elrond and Commander Galadriel didn’t stay with them.

A few days running through the forest was not enough time to get to know someone. Cold grief still gripped at him. He didn’t need to know where Daemor was born or what family they claimed. He didn’t need to know the battles they fought in, the victories, the narrow escapes. He didn’t need to know more than that Daemor was a good person, loyal, and they gave their life for their people—and they died because of him.

He’d led the group into the barrowdowns. He hadn’t known or forgot what kind of dangers lurked there. Surely, that information had to be in the libraries somewhere. It couldn’t just be the evil power of Sauron as Galadriel suggested, could it? Either way, Daemor was dead.

He had little stomach for breakfast this morning. No one did.

Rían knelt with one knee on the ground, eyes on the partly buried sword standing upright before her. She crossed her arms as her lips trembled noiselessly. Was she entreating the Valar to greet their lost companion kindly in the Blessed Lands, Camnir wondered. She was a Sinda, like him. How could she have faith that a Vala would care?

Vorohil stood across from them, completing the triangle. He held a dry leaf between his hands, tracing it with his thumbs. He knew Daemor, there was enough talk during breaks to gather that much. They were friends, good friends, for a long time. He set his face in quiet contemplation as he looked upon the small monument.

Mist drifted across the gorge. In the distance, crows called to each other. The sun hid behind a gray sky.

Vorohil looked up as the black birds winged about above them.

Camnir wished he could say something, but he had no words, and no right to offer comfort.

Eventually Rían stood. She opened her mouth.

They heard the first deep note at the same time. Camnir felt it in the soles of his feet and in his teeth.

Drums.

In an instant, Vorohil had his swords in hand and Rían had her bow, an arrow notched and ready to draw. They turned toward the drumbeats.

“Go,” Vorohil mouthed to Camnir.

Camnir turned on his heel and hurried toward Elrond and Galadriel.

#bargain brand glorestor #they are cute what can i say?#look after watching that barrowdown scene you can't tell me that vorohil and daemor aren't friends #trop #grimwing writes #vorohil #camnir

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