#but I would like to know what race those statues in the depths are of. the ones with their fist raised

[summer-fire]

More totk stuff; in-world meta stuff but it seems like the constructs are based off of Frox?

[peachsayshi]

by your side. 

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ gojo x female reader ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ 

summary: gojo returns home after an exhausting two month trip away from you. 

·˚ ༘₊�� ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

notes: I’m so h*rny for this man & that tight black tee of his this is my contribution to celebrate satoru gojo and satoru gojo only <3  you can find my other yan gojo posts: here & here. 

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: yandere; lovesick/obsessed/needy gojo; sleepy satoru; oral (f receiving); edging; dub con (ish?); pussy drunk satoru 👀; size kink; dacryphilia 

“Missed you,” Satoru exhales with a strained voice, his long fingers unfastening the knot around your waist, similarly to how you removed the white ribbon of the present he gifted you earlier this evening. 

The elder jujutsu sorcerers frustrated him with too many problems during his isolation period away from you, binding him with the shackles of responsibilities that he never asked for.

Exchanging phone calls, text messages and videos with you wasn’t enough enough to fill the empty void in his heart. Only now, as he smooths down the silk fabric of your robe, does Satoru understand how terribly deprived he’s been. 

How did he survive these last two months without you?

“I missed you so much, my sweet girl”

His words are laced with anguish and his pupils dilate at your soft skin peeking out from under your attire. He pulls the material away from you, watching carefully as it ripples off your body like water. 

Around your neck is the present that he bought for you; a string of white gold links draping down your clavicle with a heart shaped pendant resting just above your chest. He nips at his bottom lip, considering the idea of adorning you in even more jewelry. 

Two sparkling studs for your ears, maybe...a charm bracelet to compliment a pretty anklet... a band that would look complete around your ring finger...

The image makes his dick twitch.

You’re looking up at him from underneath your lashes, shying away from his intense gaze and drifting down to his muscular torso looking snug in his black fitted tee. All of a sudden your bed feels much smaller with him there, and a tingle ascends up your spine when he curves his strong arm behind your waist. The force of his weight pushes you down onto the soft pillows behind you. His limbs taking up most of the mattress, leaving you pinned underneath the expanse of his chest. 

You’ve forgotten how quickly he makes your heart race.  You’re still adjusting to this - getting used to the status of being his girl.

He tenderly touches his forehead to yours, a reminder of why the claim shouldn’t make you feel like a frightened kitten trapped in a wolf’s den.

Those words are pure devotion now, an affirmation of his love towards you. There are many who dream about basking in its abundance, and here you are greedily indulging for free.

Being loved by him is an honor that you have been pleasantly awarded.

You tilt your chin up to brush your mouth over his, initiating the first kiss with a chaste peck against his pink lips before leaning back to look into the depths of his blue eyes. 

He’s exhausted, you can tell, the bright color of his irises are muted and his mouth is twisting downward in a subtle frown. You know for a fact that he carries many burdens as the head of his clan and the strongest sorcerer, but what’s unsettling you is the sullen expression overwhelming his handsome face since his arrival. 

“I thought you would be happy to see me,” you state quite matter of factly, swiping your thumb over the blush blooming underneath his pale skin. 

Satoru leans into your touch, resting his cheek comfortably in the palm of your hand, and you can’t help but think how angelic he looks this way.

“I am, it’s just...I really, really hated being away from you,” he confesses through gritted teeth. 

You brush off the spark of nerves reacting to the visible sickness on his face, and trail your index finger down the bridge of his nose. “You’re home now,” you coo as you circle your arms around his neck, “I’m happy that you’re back.” 

His shoulders relax almost immediately, and he buries his relieved smile in the crook of your neck.  “Yeah?” he mumbles into your skin. “That’s nice to hear.” 

The sensation feels ticklish, but your giggle is quickly replaced by quiet pants as Satoru leaves a trail of kisses down your torso. His large palms find the back of your knees, and he lowers himself while spreading you apart so he can comfortably rest between your legs. The hand on your left leg curls around your ankle and he adjusts your position by bending your knee at a perfect angle. Meanwhile, his other hand lifts up your right leg, exposing the back of your thigh which he litters with tiny kisses and gentle nibbles.

“You don’t know...” he mumbles, “you don’t know how hard it is for me being away from you, it’s...” he interrupts once more, smooching your plush skin, “it’s unbearable...” 

His feathery admission gives you no comfort. Worry twists around your belly, caught between the grips of fright and excitement. A part of you refuses to believe that he is truly helpless without you around. However, it’s battling with your ego that’s showering with pride over the fact that this man would bend at your every will. 

Satoru presses his nose up against your clothed cunt to inhale your scent. The tension on his face dissipates, but his grip around your ankle tightens as he kisses you over the white cotton fabric. 

“M’here, Toru...” you soothe, threading your fingers through the frosty strands framing his facing, and pushing back his hair. “Here just for you” 

He releases an exaggerated sigh, “I feel so much better when we are together...” he admits, pressing his index finger up against the outline of your slit and rubbing over the damp patch that he formed with his tongue, “...when we are close like this.” 

You don't believe he’s lying. As a matter of fact, Satoru is honest to a fault when expressing his feelings about you.

You think it’s detrimental for a person to be this dependent, but your mind always finds a reason to rationalize his perspective.

Maybe it’s because you love him…or maybe it’s because he’s successfully bulldozed his way into your life that he now occupies every territory, making it impossible for you to turn anywhere catching a glimpse of his shadow.

You swallow the lump in your throat.

You don’t want to dissect these unsettling ideas, afraid of what your mind would reveal to you in the process.

Instead, you allow yourself to relax as your lover pulls aside your underwear to expose your pussy. He lightly rubs his thumb over your ankle, keeping you in place for him before placing a sweet kiss on your clit. You slowly massage his scalp as a gesture of encouragement, and whimper quietly when he flicks the tip of his tongue along the nub. 

Your right leg lazily falls over his broad shoulder when he releases his hold, your eyelids growing heavy feeling the stroke of his velvety tongue drag down.

Satoru eats you out for his own pleasure, and the man is starved having not tasted you for months.

He keeps you in this position long enough for you to feel like the room is spinning. You’re lightheaded, delirious, with the way he softly and slowly devours your cunt and slurps your arousal. The sound of tender smacks and his deep humming moans echo around you, and your hips buck against his mouth from how sensual he sounds.  

The brewing heat numbs you from the top of the head down to the tips of your toes, it’s burning so low that you’re desperate to prod the embers just to stir the flame. You lick your lip feverishly, tasting the saltiness of sweat and jab your heel into his back, but the pressure feels like nothing to him. 

Satoru doesn’t waver or pick up the pace because he’s savoring you down to the very last drop, and he looks so content with your slick dribbling down his chin. He goes deeper, pushing his tongue further inside you as he compresses his nose into your clit. The added pressure makes you choke out a pathetic whine, provoking your exasperation and your thighs start to quiver uncontrollably. 

You’re relying on your movements, grinding your hips out of desperation in the hopes to finally snap the rubber band of your pleasure that’s being stretched to its limit. 

“mmph...t-toru?...” you mewl as tears prick your lovely eyes. “toru?” 

“Hmm?” a deep voice replies, and Satoru slowly wriggles his nose as he continues to lazily fuck you with his tongue. 

“Satoru, I-...ah!” you yelp, finally grabbing his attention as you roughly yank his hair. 

He groans with annoyance, but slows down his movements. To your dismay, he doesn’t completely pull away and instead returns back to your sensitive clit. He languidly rolls his tongue over it, licking and sucking the overstimulated bud that the tears start to fall. 

“I can’t take this...I can’t take this...”  you sniffle, easing your hold as you try to push his head away. “need to cum, wanna cum so bad...” 

Only then does he look up from the mess between your legs, strings of your slick catch onto his chin and you contemplate how unjust it is that he looks this beautiful, contemplate how unfair it is that you are meant to temper your sinful thoughts around a man who is Adonis incarnate. 

His hazy eyes blink away his dream like trance, and you can see his senses returning back to the present. He arches his brow with slight amusement at your flustered expression but maintains an innocent tone when he replying.

“I got a little carried away...” he states before placing an apologetic kiss on your lower tummy. “Not enough for you, huh?” 

You pout slightly and shake your head no, attempting to lift yourself up on your forearms despite your shoulders trembling from how frail your body feels tipping so close to the edge.

Satoru envelopes you in the protection of his embrace. He kisses you deeply, and you can taste yourself on his tongue and over his lips. He molds into your frame and your body lights up with sparks feeling how stiff  the length of his hard cock feels as he delicately ruts his hips over yours. 

You moan with every calculative thrust, spread your legs wide enough to feel his impressive bulge rub against you.

God, it makes you want to ride him senseless.

You’re yearning to have him inside you.

He pulls away from the sloppy, wet kiss then eases the grind of his hips as he pecks your cheek and jawline. He wriggles down, stopping to suckle on the tips of your pointed nipples and your heart stops when you realize that he still has no intention of making you cum yet.

“Toru, please...” you beg when he returns to his previous position, a gasp following your plea as he buries two fingers inside you. 

“I’m feeling much better, baby, I love you s’much...” he reassures, a wicked grin tickling the corners of his mouth as he steadily drags his digits back and forth, “I promise I’ll fill you right up…just need to make up for some lost time, kay?” 

The blood drains from your face, and you realize that you’re completely at his mercy.

“s’good to me, so perfect ‘n pretty...” he praises into your glistening cunt, but you’re too enraptured by the sensation of his tongue stroking your folds to notice the way his eyes darken as he looks at you.

If you did, then you would remember the danger of nuzzling up with a wolf whose bite would bleed you dry. 

[phykoha]

I'm actually so so so disappointed that we didn't get DLC for Tears of The Kingdom. I would've loved to play through new lore quests to learn more about the dragons- I think it's safe to assume that they were Zonai that swallowed secret stones, but I wanna Know about them. What did they look like? Why did they do it?

I would've been obsessed with ANY information we could've gotten about the ancient hero. What race was he? He doesn't look like anything we've seen so far. Is he from the Lomei? There are those mystery statues in the depths of a race we haven't seen before, is that what he is? What was he like? Was he a reincarnation of the hero, like Link? Link being anything other than Hylian is so so interesting to think about.

If we're really not getting DLC for TOTK like Nintendo said, I'm hoping whatever game comes next can expand on BOTW and TOTK's lore. Maybe not from the same exact world, but anything would be better than nothing.

[bunnyboo77]

Geta,Caracalla x Original Character.

In the lavish palace of the Flavian dynasty, where the sun���s rays painted the marble floors with golden hues and shadows whispered secrets long buried, Rose stood trembling. She was both a treasure and a captive, caught between the intoxicating allure of emperors Geta and Caracalla—identical in appearance yet starkly different in their desires.

Today, they had dressed her in a gown of shimmering gold that hugged her curves, accentuating every contour of her body. Jewels cascaded from her neck and danced around her wrists, catching the light like scattered stars. Despite the opulence, she felt more exposed than ever, her heart racing as they eyed her with smoldering intensity.

“Look at her,” Geta murmured, his voice smooth as silk, yet laced with an undertone that sent shivers down her spine. “She is our radiant rose, crafted for our eyes alone.”

Caracalla stepped closer, his presence enveloping her, a dark cloud of obsession. “Every inch of you is ours to explore, Rose. You should feel honored.”

The possessiveness in their voices ignited a fire within her, a strange blend of fear and undeniable attraction. “I am just a girl…” she whispered, trying to summon some semblance of protest, but it came out weak, almost pleading.

“Just a girl?” Geta scoffed, his gaze hungry. He moved closer, the heat radiating off him as he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “You are so much more than that. You are our muse, our flame. Don’t you see? You set our souls alight.”

Rose shivered at his touch, the warmth of his fingers sending bolts of electricity through her. She hated how their words made her heart race, how they thrilled her against her will. “Please, I—”

“You what?” Caracalla leaned in, his breath ghosting over her skin like fire. “You want to be free? To escape? You would deny us this exquisite pleasure of having you? You should know by now that such thoughts only deepen our need.”

Her pulse quickened as they closed in on her, the air thickening with tension. “You don’t understand!” she gasped, trying to maintain some distance, but her body yearned for their touch. “I feel trapped!”

“Trapped?” Geta’s voice was low, darkly seductive. “No, my darling Rose—this is not a prison. It is a sanctuary, a place where you are adored beyond measure.” He leaned closer, and she could smell his musky scent, intoxicating and primal. “You are our very own marble statue, designed to captivate our senses. Our joys, our passions—they are all tied to you.”

They took turns stepping closer, invading her space until she could feel their breaths mingling with her own. Their obsession twisted around her like ivy, choking yet alluring. The line between terror and desire blurred as they regarded her, their gazes raw and ravenous.

“No!” she cried suddenly, panic erupting within her. “I won’t be your trophy! I am not just…an object for your amusement!”

Laughter erupted from both emperors, a sound that sent chills through her. Caracalla stepped forward, his face mere inches from hers, the intensity in his eyes simmering dangerously. “Oh, Rose, you do not comprehend the depth of our affection. You have ignited something primal within us. We crave you, body and soul. You belong to us—the sun and the moon in our universe.”

Geta’s gaze was fierce, burning with dominance. “And we will show you what it means to be loved by emperors. Let us strip away your hesitation until you breathe our names like an incantation.”

With those words, Rose felt an involuntary shiver run down her spine. A part of her wanted to fight, to scream, while another part hungered for the dark intimacy they promised. The air around them pulsed, thick with unfulfilled desire, as they closed in around her.

“Let me go!” she pleaded, though she could no longer ignore the heat pooling deep within her, responding to their magnetic pull.

“In time, you will come to understand,” Caracalla whispered, his lips brushing against her neck, igniting her skin. “Our love is intoxicating, all-consuming. You will learn to crave the darkness we offer.”

Rose gasped as Geta captured her chin, tilting it upward. “We are not merely twins, sweet Rose. We are two halves of the same desire, intertwined in obsession. You will learn to surrender, to let us consume you.”

“That sounds dreadful,” she retorted, though her voice quivered. And yet, something in her stirred at the thought—a tantalizing rush of surrender that sent delightful tremors through her body.

“Dreadful?” Geta echoed, amused, his eyes glinting wickedly. “Or exhilarating? Perhaps you are a rose that yearns for the darkness, the very thorns that protect you.”

Before she could protest further, Caracalla leaned in, capturing her lips with his in a heated kiss. The taste of him was overwhelming, a storm that raged inside her. She felt herself melting against him, her body betraying her resolve as passion ignited.

With a growl of frustration, Geta took hold of her waist, pulling her close as he joined the embrace, their bodies molding around her. For a moment, she was lost in their heat, drowning in the fervor of their touch. Their desires clawed at her, demanding submission, and she realized she was teetering on the edge of a precipice.

“Accept us,” Caracalla whispered against her skin, his lips trailing tantalizingly down her neck. “Embrace the chaos we offer. Give in to what you feel.”

“Do not fight,” Geta murmured, brushing his lips against her earlobe, igniting a fire within her that threatened to consume her will. “Let us teach you what it means to belong completely.”

As their hands roamed over her, setting her skin ablaze, Rose felt an awakening—a dark need entwined with fear and longing. This was their world, and she was caught in its web, a prisoner and a queen, both terrified and enchanted.

Perhaps there was a part of her that craved this obsessive love, this dominance they bestowed upon her. As the emperors pulled her deeper into their embrace, each heartbeat a promise, Rose understood that the line between pleasure and pain, freedom and captivity, was a fragile thread woven in the tapestry of desire.

“We will break you,” Geta promised, his eyes gleaming with a feral hunger. “But when the dark clouds lift, you will rise anew—a queen born of obsession.”

As their kisses deepened, leaving her breathless, Rose succumbed to the tempest within her, aware that she had walked into a beautiful, perilous trap where pleasure and pain intertwined, forever binding her to the twin emperors she both feared and craved.

[savagewildnerness]

I’ve been thinking about Rolin Jone’s adaptation of Interview with the Vampire and self acceptance.  

Let’s look at our main characters: Louis, Lestat, Armand, Claudia and Daniel…

You may disagree with my pondering, but I’m really curious to hear anyone’s thoughts! I thought maybe we could have a little discussion...?

As I see it...

Louis: struggles to accept his full self.

- For all the anger and violence at the core of himself.  He is afraid to look too far internally in case what he might find would be too terrifying, so instead he tries to be morally good in action.

Lestat: struggles to feel his self is worthy of love or acceptance from others.

- Lestat feels he is *too much* and there is something inherently *wrong* and flawed with himself.  He accepts and likes himself, even while acknowledging (& often revelling in) his bad, evil and negative sides, but he struggles to feel he deserves love because of how often he has been told he is wrong and unloveable and because of the *evil* side he knows is part of him.

Armand: struggles to know who his self is.

- Armand has the most traumatic of all the vampires’ backstories.  And not only that, but it was compounded by centuries of reinforcing the notion that his self doesn’t matter through serving in covens. Who truly is Armand? He never got a change to truly discover it. So he can only try to fill himself up with external input in whatever way - be it via the rules of some organisation or the input of one individual. The tragedy is, Armand has a lot of love to give and desperately craves to be loved, but he doesn't understand truly how to love or be loved, and how can he be loved when he doesn't know who he is?

Claudia: struggles to feel perceived for her full self.

- Made a vampire too young, but a full adult in her mind now; By both those who love her and even mores by anyone new she meets (at least initially), Claudia is most often spilt into either “child” or “monster” with nobody truly seeing her for all she is.  (In a way Claudia’s struggles are similar to Lestat’s I feel, except you could call Lestat’s lesser as they are more related to love, whereas for Claudia it is more fundamentally getting anyone to even see *who* she truly is.)

Daniel: struggles to feel successful in relationships.

- Daniel has had a successful career.  He knows himself and is secure in himself professionally.  But he feels he has failed anyone he has loved.  He feels he has failed in his relationships, failed with his children, failed to love others in the right way. What has his life outside his work been?

This could obviously be gone into in way more depth, including the impact of character’s race, the eras and societies and locations they were born into and their status in those eras when they were mortal, as well as their mortal experiences of love and trauma and acceptance… but I wanted to just keep it all as simple as I could.

I don’t know… I’m just wondering if by the end of the Vampire Chronicles, whether Rolin might have something to express about whether, given eternity, these immortal beings can ever fully truly accept the entirety of their selves…?

I'd love to hear people's thoughts on this or on any other themes if you'd like to share?

[citrineandrosmarin]

🦉Athena Masterpost: Festivals🦉

🐍 Masterpost Link 🐍

Last updated: Date of Publishing - Bibliography in Masterpost

This will just be a quick overview of the festivals, not intended to go in-depth. I may make additional posts later on with a bit more detail.

Panathenaia

28 Hekatombaion (July/August)

A New Year festival in Athens which takes place each year (Lesser Panathenaia) with a grander version every four years (Greater Panathenaia). 

A nocturnal celebration, the pannychis, would take place before the festival, with a torch race and singing. The winner of the torch race would get to light the fire at Athena’s altar. During the Panathenaia there were various sports competitions but also musical contests, poetry recitals and pyrrhic dances. The prizes for these could be money, crown wreaths or amphoras of sacred olive oil depending on the event and age group. 

Sacrifices of oxen would be made to Athena Polias, Athena Nike and Athena Hygeia and a massive feast would follow. Perhaps one of the most important parts of this festival was the presentation of the robe (Lesser Panathenaia) or tapestry (Greater Panathenaia) to Athena that would have been started in the Khalkeia.

Kallynteria and Plynteria

24 Thargelion (May/June)

Kallynteria was either a day of sweeping out of the temple, or a day where the cult image of Athena in the Erechtheion was adorned with jewelry or other items (the verb kallunein can mean both “adorn” and “sweep, scour”). Personally, I think that sweeping makes more sense due to the nature of Plynteria.

Plynteria took place the day after and was the day where the statue’s adornments were removed for washing by women of a noble family and it was veiled. There may have been a procession to wash the robes, and the statue itself might have been washed. This is often confused with another procession done by epheboi - that of a different cult image, the Palladion. This statue resided in a law court that oversaw the trials of crimes such as murder, and thus due to this exposure the statue was washed with sea water or carried to the sea to be washed clean of miasma. The day of Plynteria was considered apophras, an unlucky day of ill omen, because it was believed that the goddess was absent from the city on this day.

In modern practice, this might be a good time for a deep spring clean of your room or home and items. Donate what you don’t need or use or what has been sitting around “just in case.”

Arrhephoria

Shortly after Plynteria, the nocturnal festival of the Arrephoria takes place. This festival features the Arrhephoroi, two young girls who have lived about a year on the Acropolis, who on this day perform their last duty of priestly service. Pausanias is the main source for this rite, and describes how the Arrhephoroi carry baskets on their heads with secret things within that neither they nor the priestesses know. These baskets are carried through an “enclosure” near the sanctuary of Aphrodite ‘in the Gardens’ and down a natural underground passage. They then leave what they have brought and then pick up some other veiled thing to take to the Acropolis. Immediately after this, the young girls are discharged from service. The general belief is that this may have been some kind of fertility rite.

Khalkeia

Nine months before the Panathenaia is the Khalkeia (“Bronze”) festival on the last day of Pyanopsion. This was a festival of smiths and other artisans which honored Athena Ergane (“The Worker”) who presided over all crafts and also Hephaestus who was patron of those who used fire in their crafts. Evidence of dedications to Athena here include that from potters, a carpenter, a tanner, fullers, a scribe, a shipbuilder, a washerwoman, a baker, and a weaver, likely as a tithe from their profits, as craftsmen almost exclusively turned to Athena when it came to the pursuit of their crafting careers.

It was during this festival that the sacred robe for Athena, which would be offered at the Lesser Panathenaia, was started by women and the Arrhephoria. This may have also been when the similar sail-sized tapestry made by male workers was started. The robe and tapestry used to be considered the same item - older sources may indicate this but modern scholarship seems to agree that they were different.

[cosmicmordecai]

Given the internet is full of theories & ideas on the Ancient Hero, I really wanna put my two cents on the character and point out some things that get missed.

The ancient hero is Zonai

I highly doubt with the significance and presence of the Zonai in TOTK, the very shrines Rauru made would gift Link an aspect of a random ass creature from Zelda universe we’ve never seen before that happens to be a hero.

And it would be just as weird for the aspect to be literally wearing a modified ZONITE ARMOR set which has the same defense level & is relevant only to Zonai given the set in question improves the usage of Zonai devices (which wouldn’t be used by anyone but Zonai wheras Link is afforded their abilities due to Rauru’s arm)

Not to mention the ancient hero also bears fabric that is explicitly the symbol of Zonai. It be really odd for this character to possess Zonai abilities, bear Zonai fabric & clothing that would be relevant only to a Zonai of that time frame, and it not be Zonai whatsoever or possess connections to them.

The Ancient Hero is a relative of the royal family

Given the Zonai connections to the character, it’s highly probable this ancient hero breaks the usual mold regarding heroes and is a relative to the royal family, making him Hylian too. He bears similarities to both Sonia’s tattoos that would recognize her as royalty at least and the tattoos adorned by royal guards of ancient Hyrule BOTH. Sonia prior to Queenship was a PRIESTESS so she’s not an obvious warrior type.

If Ganondorf’s comments had merits in that there’s a limited amount of Zonai that dwell (in which he was unaware Rauru & Sonia already had a child at least since Zelda is outright confirmed to be related to them both long into the future) & he comes after their time , he would have to had royal connections due to having obvious dominant Zonai genes period.

I say relative too because the Ancient Princess is also there. She could be a sister or a cousin or something more distant depending on how far down the first instance of Calamity happened compared to the Imprisioning War & how Zonai genes work in lieu with Hylian genes. She directly wields the sealing power, which is a power that RAURU (Sonia grants power over time, not dispelling evil), which confirms she is Rauru’s obvious descendant.

What makes the Ancient Hero interesting is that he breaks the mold for Link’s place outright given his more oddly appearance & the fact that the plan in that era to beat Ganon was to use a magic sword made to fight evil, use the Ancient Princess’s power to seal him away, and all the while weakening the creature by jumping his ass & helpers with four massive mechanical weapons AND a bunch of guardians.

So I don’t adhere the ancient hero to the mold of a loyal person descended from Knights like Link ordinarily is in most variations (Wind Waker!Link being one of those exceptions).

He’s not from the Depths

The Zonai statues in the Depths are from a time before even Rauru/Mineru given how until the Upheavel in current time, it has not been explored extensively. The Ancient Hero either comes after or concurrently to Rauru/Mineru’s lifetime.

He’s not Gerudo

I know the fandom is thirsty for a male Gerudo example that’s NOT Ganondorf to see how things are different but red hair and fancy jewelry isn’t Gerudo exclusive traits. I think the red hair might suggest a difference in the family.

Hylians in Zelda have been redhead before without being Gerudo too.

Zonai have diversity in characteristics

Given the two Zonai we see are siblings, it’s highly probable that their looks & the statues do not express how all Zonai are. I’ve seen people put “deep analysis” of the aspect with Rauru & Mineru and honestly, it’s not riveting given we’re dealing with a fictional race this story has not given deep enough details.

That’s just some of my thoughts on the Ancient Hero & his aspect. Feel free to agree, disagree, etc.

[aufi-creative-mind]

I hc that the Bargainer Statues are early depictions of the Fierce Deity (who's true form therefore has 4 eyes), who is referred to as a Kishin in Japanese, which according to folklore, are wrathful, powerful, even scary-looking beings & vicious fighters, but are also deeply compassionate, benevolent, & protectors at there core. They're said to enact just & righteous vengeance for those who've been wronged.

Anyway, my thoughts are that he is the 3rd in the Hylian/Demise triad, being where the Hero's Spirit originates from. I also hc that he created the Sheikah much like how Hylia created the Hylians. (So, if the naming conventions follow, his true name could start with "Shei" or "Sheik.")

Anyway, he's a god of war, the moon, heroism, & death. Which is why Link is always able to see spirits. He gathered spirits & fought or soothed Poes (the enemies) either by fighting them or playing the Song of Healing.

The Dark Clumps being pieces of the pseudo-flesh that spirits form to create Poes & the Depths Set being made from this pseudo-flesh.

Also, I hc that the symbols are actually ancient Sheikah script, which the Fierce Deity taught the Sheikah. And before losing or giving up his immortality, he tasked the Sheikah with taking his place, which is who delivered the spirits to the Bargainer Statues before Link.

This is part of the reason why the Sheikah are so heavily associated with death & graveyards.

As for who the Bargainers are, they are this thing called a bushin in Japanese culture, which there deities have the ability to split pieces off of themselves & create lesser copies that rule over certain areas, but are lead by the source deity. The same is said for the Goddess Statues. Basically, Hylia & Fierce gave up their immortality, but the statues are still being run by their bushin.

Stop me, I will literally talk you ear off if you don't.

Anyway, what are your thoughts??

.................................................... OP. My guy, my gal, my non-binary pal. Why did you drop this on my inbox? This needs to be its own proper post! This is a very fascinating take on the Bargainer and the other known deities in the Zelda world.

-

Ngl, I haven't thought much about the Bargainer and their role is since there's so little in their lore. Other than "guiding lost souls into the afterlife without prejudice" and exchanging materials, weapons and outfit sets in return of Poes... (Kinda like how the Goddess Statue exchanges Blessings for Hearts, Stamina and Sage's Wills).

And seeing so many Poes in the Depths in a state of purgatory, makes me think that they are akin to the Grim Reaper of sorts. On top of the Yiga notes about how those "strange statues" would rip the souls out of fellow members if they come too close to it in the Depths.

I also imagine that the name "Bargainer" is a recent title when they were (re)discovered by present-day Hyruleans. And their true name had already been lost to the looooooong passage of time. And for all we know, the "Bargainer" was the god(dess) of the long extinct Zonai people.

That's about as far as I have for the Bargainer.

As for other deities like Hylia, Demise and the Fierce Deity, I don't have much beyond what is present in the games and the popular headcanons shared within the Zelda fandom.

I do have headcanons on how each race and clans interpret these deities and their own faith systems. For example, the Sheikah view Hylia as a "two faced" deity with "light and shadow" themes in their faith. Which is in contrast to their Hylian counterparts who have more clear-cut views on Hylia as the benevolent protector-goddess of their people (And why the Horned Statue exists and is shunned and hidden away).

(Though this is all part of my BotW-TotK Family and Legacy story.)

TL;DR I don't have a lot of ideas / headcanons on who or what these deities are. BUT I do have headcanons on how they are interpreted by different peoples/races.

-

But seriously though OP, if you're reading this, you need to create dedicated posts and elaborate more on these headcanon ideas. They have POTENTIAL to become some very delicious reads.

[gracilissart]

HORROR OC: Seamus Wrynn

to be fully truthful here I have been postponing this for so long 🤕 bc I hate doing refs and they almost always turn out like dogshit. but alas. Seamus' ref needed an overhaul so here it is. this turned out okay at least 😭

GENERAL

name: seamus wrynn alias: corvus (main online handle, he has several more) nickname(s): n/a gender: agender, simply labels himself as male. pronouns: he/him

age: 28 (agelocked), 150+ (true) date of birth: 10 february, 1869 date of death: 13 november, 1896 cause of death: tortured and mutilated to death by killian lynch location of birth: derry, (now northern) ireland location of death: boston, massachusetts, USA

race: white ethnicity: irish species: human (formerly), undead (current) sexual orientation: unlabelled, multisexual relationship status: ????? (in a weird situation with kelly duffy (© sanityisforlosers). they don't consider what they have to be a romantic relationship but it could very well be seen as such due to both having skewed ideas of what love is)

occupation: photographer, proxy to julius the dressmaker (© sanityisforlosers)

MURDER: METHOD AND CLASSIFICATION

seamus is the kind of man people whisper of in the depths of the web, in only the darkest outskirts of society, where he is known as ‘corvus’, a name both worshipped and reviled by the few who know it. many rumours exist about his being; that he is a myth, that he is not one person but a group, that he is a troll.

the facts are as follows: he is a photographer, the subject matter the kind of depravity considered an urban legend. some call it gore, others extreme porn, some dare call it ‘snuff’, but seamus claims what he captures is art.

PERSONALITY

pleasant. well-mannered. many praises could be sung about his first impressions. had you not known any better, you would think he is a perfectly nice young man. he appears to be a good friend and a shoulder to cry on; he makes you feel as though you both are one and the same. he has a penchant for the dark underbelly of the human state and listening to the way he speaks of even the lowest of the low makes it sound beautiful, irresistible.

his persuasion is serpentine, the temptations he serves luciferian. beauty to him is violence. love, in his eyes, is abuse. that is what he was raised to believe, and continues to both live by and preach through his depraved photography. it is not just an artistic vision; it is an inherent part of an unreadable philosophy he lives by, one formed through observation.

whatever those observations may be is indecipherable to all except him. abstractions imposed by society such as gender, etiquette, morality and more are flawed and self-contradictory concepts which he doesn’t subscribe to. as such, labelling him as morally bankrupt leads to a disagreement; he is not morally bankrupt for he is removed from morality entirely. his behaviour may as a result also come across as inconsistent and contradictory as well: he is a sadomasochist. he is caring, yet apathetic at once. his good-natured politesse therefore isn’t a front; his soft-spoken personality is a very genuine part of his character.

only insanity could serve as an accurate label to his being.

APPEARANCE

seamus has a rather contradictory appearance. he stands at an impressive height of 6’6” and stands even taller by two inches when including the low-heeled boots he wears. 

he has scars littered all across his face: a jagged pair running from the corner of his lips and forming an odd grin, a diagonal scar spanning from the end of his right eyebrow towards his nose, another vertical scar running across his left eye. finally, there is a scar diagonally running across his forehead and another that extends from his lower right cheek up across his nose and towards his left eyesocket. 

this makes for an intimidating form, yet his facial structure and the way in which he presents himself significantly softens this rather daunting first impression. despite being somewhat ghoulish in appearance and his bright (fully) green eyes being an odd sight, his calm smile and admittedly attractive face could easily put one at ease. his black hair tied into a loose, low ponytail and his tidy manner of dressing give off the air of a person who is relaxed.

RELATIONSHIPS

family:

ava wrynn (mother, deceased)

lewis wrynn (father, deceased)

moira wrynn (older sister, deceased)

eileen wrynn (older sister, deceased)

declan wrynn (older brother, deceased)

molly wrynn [maiden name: keogh] (ex-wife, deceased)

the hellcrew:

julius doherty - the demon seamus is a proxy to. having known each other as humans and finding they have a few things in common, they get along quite well. they still help each other out occasionally if needed.

killian lynch - fellow proxy and the man who murdered him. he doesn't appear scared of nor intimidated by killian, and instead has taken a (non-mutual) liking to him; one which is rooted in seamus' masochistic tendencies.

kelly duffy - fellow proxy of julius and.... friendish?? boyfriendish person????? the two appear to get along alarmingly well and have engaged in intimacy with one another. neither of them appear to care about the status of their odd relationship nor care to label it, but they do have an affection for one another.

seraphina shaw - fellow proxy and a former assistant of his. despite being the person to have killed her, he and seraphina get along just fine. he claims that she has been one of his ‘favourite’ assistants.

BACKGROUND

problematic. even in life, the wrynn household was not regarded upon kindly, this including seamus. known to always have been drawn to death, he was a pariah since childhood and his parents and older brother were no kinder to him than others. his older sisters were protective of him; the younger of the two, eileen, being particularly possessive of him.

unfortunately, this relationship was far from normal, nor healthy to seamus. his sister being several years older than him lead to a power dynamic and the growth of an exploitative and abusive relationship, warping his vision on what he interprets to be 'love' and 'beauty'.

up until then, seamus' fascination with death appeared harmless. the turning point, however, was finding his sister's brutally handled corpse, both fully destroying his already-fragile psyche and solidifying the idea that true beauty and gratification lies in torture, assault and violent death. after the incident, he fully changed the way in which he presents himself, making himself out to be a perfectly normal and charismatic young man. eventually, he immigrated to america with his other sister moira, hoping to provide seamus with a fresh start and a proper job. he was to continue in the footsteps of a friend of moira’s; a photographer who took him in, and he didn't mind, for he found himself enthralled by photography, even if it was not yet considered an art.

he would begin to photograph depraved and morbid things in secret and despite appearing passably functional and well-adjusted growing up, seamus’ self-destructive and harmful behaviour worsened, resulting in his then-wife’s disappearance and at last; his death after annihilating the family of a man who thought he was a lifelong friend.

he wouldn't stay dead, however, and now is a proxy to julius doherty. of course he was in hell. how could he end up anywhere else?

MISCELLANEOUS

📷 he is not above harming children. 📷 the main derived inspirations for this character are masao kakihara from ichi the killer and yozo from no longer human 📷 he initially was created as a joke and modelled after joseph desaulniers from identity v. the gist of this was sanity bullet pointing broad hellcrew characteristics and me going “watch me speedrun the creation of a hellcrew character” and he thought it was funny. i actually pulled through with it, though. 📷 his basic information and rough design draft were created in the span of 10 minutes and 41.92 seconds 📷 his first surname used during the speedrun was seamus gallagher. i already had the first name in mind but simply hastily searched for a somewhat-fitting surname. not satisfied with the surname upon refining the character, i decided rinne sounded better, and i then instead decided to write it as wrynn.

julius doherty, killian lynch and kelly duffy belong to @sanityisforlosers

[tamegaeil]

Caged

Some cages are built from the inside out.

Prologue:  As classmates a young co-ed and a late-to-college guy in his mid-twenties began the same program of literary studies together. From the outset it was clear that they shared a strong mutual attraction. However, his married with a young child status posed a large obstacle to any notions of their entering into a romance. Over the course of several long and unusually candid conversations, the pair eventually resolved to be friends of the not too close kind since neither wanted to be pegged as pathetically unrequited. For the next three years they observed and participated in each other's intellectual development. Nonetheless, with very like minds and frequent daily proximity, their feelings for one another bred an increasingly irresistible tension. During the final semester of their schooling, with certain separation looming, the two relented and engaged in an affair that they vowed would end with graduation. Remarkably, despite severe heartbreak, they both managed to honor their pact with grace and following commencement went their independent ways . The end of the couple's liaison was the impetus for the accompanying piece. 

in the delphic depths 

of this new moon past 

a shiver

nibbled at my spine 

and told me in its chilling way

today would end your coming

we have only now 

to bundle our belonging 

against an aged autumn's breath 

that soon

shall have its way with us 

as leaves flung 'cross the grass

cornered by sunlight

half asleep 

curling up inside my dreams 

when first you lingered at the rail 

so swollen in your youth 

and sleek about your look

something sailed

between us then 

that tugged the hairs around my neck

enough to stiffen every muscle tight

with blood pound from a heart

taken by surprise

days on end

it was your custom

to stand beneath the oak 

watching as I paced 

knowing everything

knowing nothing at all

and odd evenings 

after all had left

to reach between the bars 

with stroking hands

that felt like freedom

on my face

everywhere

branches scrape 

against the rolling sky 

until a sudden stillness

lets your racing footsteps

trail into the night

the globes along the walk 

wear their frosted rainbows 

shimmering in the icy air

as the creature sways

in rhythm

with the stars

Epilogue: 

A little over a year after their parting, the once lovers crossed paths by sheer happenstance. Each freely admitted to sorely missing their former relationship. So they promised one another, come what may, to maintain their exceptional connection. Over the span of the next thirty-seven years they exchanged letters, eventually e-mails and now and then a few telephone conversations. She was married through thirty-four of those years until her husband unexpectedly died. After his passing, for whatever reason, there came no further word.

[totkdaily]

Day 7: Skyview Tower Launch

Purah discards the search for Zelda with dispiriting ease. She wants to investigate the Upheaval. Zelda would approve, but it’s always been her Swordsman's job to moderate her curiosity with practicality. The priority is, must be and has always been the Princess and her safety. 

Purah and Josha have rigged some kind of scanning or navigation system into this tower, built out of old Sheikah technology. It’s a dynamic and colourful echo of the tranquil Sheikah towers I once climbed. It looks like they needed the Purah Pad to make it operational - what was their plan if Zelda - or I - didn’t bring it back? 

Purah asks me to take it for a test run in exchange for the paraglider returned to me. The design of the tower’s systems is… startling. I hadn’t realised how ingrained it was to feel that thrumming in my veins at the sight of a Guardian’s pincer legs. And the scanning itself is more… adrenaline-inducing than the Sheikah towers used to be.

But the paraglider is an old friend, and its familiar frame in my grip makes me feel all that more capable. The sensation of the rushing wind matches the thrumming under my skin, and I feel calmer. The landscape is, despite the debris and Purah’s towers, still familiar enough to ease my heart. I must find Zelda. But at least I’m home. 

Back on the ground, Purah asks me to visit Rito Village, Gerudo Town, Goron City and Zora’s Domain to investigate some strange phenomena - as well as Kakariko Village and its new Ring Ruins. She thinks they might reveal something in the search for the Princess. I wonder if she’s just saying that to invest me in the missions. But I don’t have any better ideas. And Josha says someone saw Zelda at Rito Village recently. I suppose it’s a start. 

I follow Josha downstairs to find her arguing with Robbie about going to the Depths. She wants to investigate a statue found down there, but Robbie says she’s too young. The compromise is that I go instead. It doesn’t feel like it’ll lead me to Zelda, but the Depths do intrigue me. And Robbie will show me how to use the camera on the Purah Pad in exchange. 

I take a walk around Lookout Landing before I head out. There are some people I know here, some I don’t. Karson is a familiar face - he seems to have split up with Bolson, and is building a mini stable here with old Lester’s aid. There are a few people here on the monster-control crews - it seems Captain Hoz’s team has been reassigned from the search for Zelda to taking down monsters. Just because we’ve seen the Princess, doesn’t mean she’s fine. I shouldn’t have carried that report of her sighting. They should still be looking for her.

Gralens seems to be the point person for these crews - Captain Hoz is in Hyrule Field, and two others - Captain Toren and Captain Flaxel - are at Lake Darman by Death Mountain and at the Menoat River in Faron respectively. Their colleague Atmus says there’s been an increase in unusual monsters since the Upheaval - presumably like those odd bokoblin I met when I landed. 

I head out and catch a horse to get to the chasm faster, but he’s gorgeous - dark blue-black with a white nose and socks. I gallop him over to Wetland Stable to register Blackberry, and then we race together through the night back to this chasm in Hyrule Field.

[chronurgy]

The dark urge and Orin, or the sweet poison of sisterly love

Vesper

The two of them have the largest age gap with Orin being around 10 years younger, but thanks to Vesper's relatively late onset of the urge plus the larger gap between that onset and their arrival at the temple, Orin has already reached her age of majority by the time they arrive.

I've written at length about Vesper and Orin's relationship here, so I won't retread too much of that ground. But the long and short of it is that when Vesper arrives Orin is old enough to know what she's lost (leadership of the temple, her chance at being chosen) and resents them for it (especially because Vesper isn't necessarily a "good" Bhaalist). After her temper cooled, they might have been able to establish some sort of relationship but the status quo worked just fine and neither of them was willing to unbend enough to try. They have a politely distant and resentful relationship until Vesper gets involved with Gortash, which sort of confirms all of Orin's worst fears (that she wasn't good enough for them, that they thought they were so much better than her, etc) and causes her to spiral and focus on getting revenge on Vesper for all the times they'd done her wrong and taken what ought to have been hers. The fact that Gortash was a Banite certainly didn't help matters, but frankly Orin would have reacted more or less the same way if Vesper's new "friend" had been a pinecone with googly eyes glued on. They'd taken everything she'd ever wanted and didn't even seem to care and just when she'd resigned herself to the fact that they weren't the kind of person who cared about things or people and that's why they didn't love her (their own sister!) they went and proved her wrong. The worst part is that Orin is right. Vesper doesn't care. They could have, if things had been different. But they weren't.

Aunrae

The two of them have the smallest age gap, with Orin being only 2 to 3 years. However Aunrae comes to the temple younger and earlier than Vesper. When she arrives, Orin is no longer a child but has not yet reached her age of majority.

They're close in age and Aunrae (who grew up as the daughter of the matron of a Menzoberrezan drow house) is used to having lots of people around her - sisters, handmaids, and various other hangers on, then later on the surface Elinor's children - and quickly takes to Orin.

Aunrae is thrilled to have a sister. Some of her fondest memories were from the one year where she and her other sisters attended the lolthite priestess training together and acted much closer to one another than they actually were in order to project strength in front of the other houses. Aunrae treasured those moments of closeness, fake as they were, and they were among the few memories of her life in Menzoberrezan she treasured even after her escape to the surface.

She and Orin are very similar and get along very well. Over time, they truly grow to love one another as sisters. Between Orin's younger age at the time of her arrival and their warm relationship prevents the depth of resentment that Orin holds toward Vesper from ever forming here. Orin is Aunrae's second in command, her right hand woman, and beyond even that they're thick as thieves, each other's closest confidant.

Orin learns a great deal from Aunrae, grows by leaps and bounds. Sarevok resents it, sees her as taking away his little girl, the prodigy shaped in his image and turning her into something else. But neither of them care, they're both changing and learning and racing each other through the streets, laughing, seeing who can get the most kills in one night.

And therein lies the problem. Aunrae teaches and Orin learns and becomes a little more like her. Aunrae runs the cult like a drow house where she is the final and only authority, warmly imperious, family member and taskmaster both. She is fond of telling those who question her, "if you don't like what I'm doing either shut up or kill me." Orin attacks her not out of malice but because she feels that Aunrae is slipping, betraying both her and her own ideals, especially in her relationship with Gortash. Orin sees her as degrading herself, losing focus, becoming weak and vulnerable - and Sarevok, sensing discord, sensing a way to get back at the woman who stole his little lamb and laughed him out of the room when he told her that she would have his children, is there afterwards to pour poison in her ear and build new resentments out of things long forgotten.

Cyril

He's the youngest when he arrives at the temple and therefore Orin is also pretty young (these ages fit them so well - Vesper who is pretty content with being alone spends the longest time wandering before arriving at the temple, Aunrae tries to resist out of guilt but is drawn toward people like a moth to a flame in the end, and Cyril doesn't even bother resisting, he just runs straight for this new potential source of love he's entitled to). He and Orin have an intermediate age gap of around 6 to 8 years. Between that age gap, his urge kicking in comparatively early (a note on the timing of the Urges setting in - Bhaal waits for the perfect time, the exact moment where it will cause the most suffering), and him beelining straight to the temple, Orin is still a child when Cyril arrives.

He grew up with a bunch of sisters, older and younger both. Cyril knows what a sister is (less than him) and how to interact with one (tumultuous fights followed by making up without ever really apologizing). So it's very easy for him to go and recreate that relationship with Orin.

Since Orin is so much younger when he arrives and they have a much closer relationship she doesn't resent him the way she does Vesper. She loves him and also hates him because ugh, he's so annoying and he clearly thinks he's better than her because he's older but Cyril clearly thinks he's better than everyone and he also very clearly cares about her. He may not necessarily treat her well but he treats her differently than all the other riffraff. He treats her like she matters to him, and in some ways that's enough.

In the end, the way she turns on him is closer to an extention of one of their usual nasty fights more than anything else. Cyril isn't paying enough attention to her, too focused on that weird, stupid man and he's not listening to her and she doesn't feel special any more because he doesn't tell her everything out their plans. So it's part demand for attention, part desire to prove that she's good enough to know what's going on. It's also, just a little bit, about proving that she can be more, deserves to be more, than just his little sister.

[rarepears]

Did you read my fic? Did you like it? Do you have any suggestions for future chapters or feedback?

Reading it makes me REALLY want to know how the fuck did Shen Jiu and Yue Qingyuan make up. What in the world could make Yue Qingyuan finally man up and do more than apologize and make sad puppy eyes at Shen Jiu????

Feedback? There's that scene where Shen Yuan is solicitating suggestions on what he should bring back - just who are those old men, bakers, etc. and why would they be crowded alongside the peak lords when Shen Yuan is saying goodbye? Wouldn't such farewells normally be reserved for family/friends? Not random strangers just elbowing their way in to pip in suggestions?

I'm excited to see Shang Qinghua and Shen Yuan's relationship be explained, especially when factoring the whole age gap being more explicitly here and mama bear!Shen Jiu lurking behind, still being sus AF about Shang Qinghua' spy status.

Also can't wait to see Shen Yuan's personality being revealed more in depth. Seeing how Shen Yuan's reaction to the group of women dressed in only one layer and not being jealous (wishing that he could do the same BlueThursday style) is interesting and certainly different from canon!Shen Yuan. Did Shen Jiu beat in ancient China standards of modesty? Is this the influence of growing up in Cang Qiong since he was a babe instead of immediately manifesting an adult body with Adult Decision Making Powers to Make Wrong Decisions?

Would also love to see the other trade routes being explored and explained. Like how cinnamon, native to Sri Lanka (formerly Ceylon), the neighboring Malabar Coast of India, and Myanmar (Burma) made its way up to China and Cang Qiong. (Oh! Are there any demon traders? Or Shang Qinghua used Mobei Jun as a pack mule to get his much desired SPICES because no one is going to stop him from getting his American white girl styled pumpkin spiced latte!)

Oh! Luo Binghe being assumed to be mixed race between Roman and Ceres person - would the latter be assumed to be a slave woman? (What country is even Ceres?? My mind immediately jumped to Central Asia area for whatever reason.) I wonder how assuming such a background would influence Luo Binghe's mindset - would he be interested in Shen Yuan because he's exotic? Is he going to be concerned that Shen Yuan wouldn't fall in love outside of the Han(?) race? How are values and cultures going to clash between the two?

Oh damn, this got way too long. But to conclude, yes I enjoy it a lot! Not sure if you did a lot of research or you just know way too much about this... era? Genre? period? Ancient Rome stuff? in general, but it's fantastic. I have so many questions that I desperately need answered! Hope I didn't overwhelm you hehehe...

[Unigunflutist's fic on AO3]

[crehador]

overtake is so aptly named

while it started out in the middle of the pack for me, by episode four it's become one of the best of the season

the story and characters aren't deeply complex imo, but they're incredibly compelling to me

haruka seems like a pretty simple, clear-cut character at first. he's driving in f4 because his dad was a driver who died during a race. but the show builds upon that motivation, managing to give it depth without overcomplicating it

as for kouya, his lore didn't disappoint. the reason he can't take photos of people these days was obfuscated for the first three episodes, and tbh i was a bit worried it would end up being a letdown or just not that interesting. but we found out in this episode, and imo it's a very effective backstory. i didn't find it too dramatic or not impactful enough, and it even made me care more about his divorce (which all things considered was probably the right thing for both him and saeko at that time, but man what a bummer because if not for those external circumstances they probably would've stayed together?? i mean who knows all that really happened, maybe we'll find out more later on)

what i think the show is doing best is it's not overtly pushing a father-son dynamic with haruka and kouya yet, like it's not being heavy-handed about it. with the dead dad situation, it would've been low-hanging fruit and very predictable to lean into that, and i think what they're doing instead is just so much better

like if kouya had been presented as a potential new father figure right from the jump, i mean that would've been fine but, again, predictable. i think setting him up just as this goofy dude, letting him be a kinda-sorta guardian without immediately shoving him into a fully parental role, is working really well and makes the more serious/less goofy moments more significant when they do occur

and that's not to say a cheesy "kouya and saeko get back together and (figuratively) adopt haruka" ending wouldn't be welcome, if that's where they're going (i don't necessarily think they are and don't really have a strong preference of whether they do or not, bc the found family foundations are coming together beautifully either way)

but the way there's not an immediate father-son dynamic just feels more organic, like it's something that can come about with time (though really kouya seems like he might cap out at goofy uncle status at best lmao)

anyway tl;dr while the story is quite simple i'm really impressed with the pacing of this series in all regards, especially character development

[raven-eats-desks]

Oh boy, NPC backstory time. From the pov of the Hero unfortunately, but man this one inspired me. Ended up being quite long (approx. 600 words) so just going to put a cut here, but

[Arteki] was raised in a religious community, which believed in Order over everything. Those with magic were considered as divine as they were dangerous. To [Arteki]'s benefit, her magic was divine, and her community proclaimed her a hero, both for her talents, and for her constraint.

From a young age, they trained her to become a leader, an elder, and a soldier. She was their godly tool to eliminate all Chaos. The spear they wielded against the darkness opposing them.

Never did she think to question their demands. Why would she? After all, their ideology placed her as perfect- ideal.

So she never questioned her status.

Until one night, when she came of a new age, and was shown how their dangerous members were treated. A blind child, deemed cursed from birth, shaking, only faintly aware of the monsters called forth to its voice- clearly an agent of Chaos. Yet it was not put out of its misery, not cleanly destroyed the way that [Arteki] was taught to treat deviants.

Instead, [Arteki] was encouraged to partake in the abuse of the child, who was held, unable to fight back; the monsters [Arteki] feared shrinking away from the people who had raised her as their agent. The child was blind, but [Arteki] couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Night after night, she tossed and turned; no poultice could break her fever, no cloth could cure her shaking, as she stared into darkness, and felt eyes looking back.

At last she resolved- sleep deprived, riddled with racing thoughts- to be rid of that feeling, once and for all. Using her magic to ensure a clear route, she wandered through the winding cells, clutching her weapons and heart close to her chest. At last, she saw the child.

Restrained, and resting, curled up like a sick animal. Without riddance, the disease would spread further, like it already had to her mind. Slipping between bars, [Arteki] raised her knife.

"Hello?" the child spoke, voice scuffed and frightened. [Arteki] froze. The child twitched, shivered, and rolled over, arm reaching weakly into the dark.

"Muma?" the child spoke, fist closing around empty air, eyes closed. Was it was awake or dreaming? "What's wrong muma?"

The one sided conversation hung in the air. But the words didn't matter. Even if the child was awake it would die the same death.

Still, hesitation. [Arteki] took the child's half shut hand. With a rush, she was surrounded by darkness, more pitch than the depths of the ocean. She should have felt fear, for she was drowning, as the cowering monsters swarmed her and the child.

But for once, [Arteki] could look into the darkness, and see its empty eyes, blinking at her.

I know you it said. Are you friend, or foe?

"I'm not sure," she said, and the child's hand tightened around hers.

You are the hero, aren't you? We saw you... before. The darkness seemed to think. Will you hurt her? it asked.

"Her?" [Arteki] turned, and the darkness parted around the child. A girl. With dark, curling hair, and pimpled cheeks, still full with baby fat. She could not have been older than [Arteki] when she was first chosen.

And yet their fates were so cruelly opposed.

"Not tonight."

The darkness smiled. Then sleep, hero.

And she did. For the first night in an age, she slept without fear, without duty. Tomorrow, she would flee, with the girl in her arms, her spear cutting those who'd taught her to wield it; her darts poisoning those who'd made them. But tonight, she slept, with the girl in her arms, and the monsters protecting them both.

The Divine blessing of “Hero” granted by the gods is one of the worst kinds of mind control, slowly destroying the personality of the blessed individual. You are the only one who is able to look at the “Hero” and see them as a person rather than a living weapon and offer them comfort.

[elena-mayfair]

Through darkness towards...

Paring: Morpheus x f!reader, Sandman x f!reader Warnings: swearing, blood, adult themes, horror images, possible triggers Summary: You know what they say about good intentions, the road to Hell is paved with them. In this case, literally. All you wanted to do is to help Dream to find his Helm. Now, because of your stubbornness and impertinence Dream will have to pay the price. But perhaps there is something Dream of the Endless and sassy Witch could find in the darkest depths of Hell? Perhaps there is... Word count:3.4k Note: Gifs are not mine, credit to the authors

Part one: Lost in the dream Part two: Back in the dream Part three: Through the Dreaming Part four: In the Waking World Part five: Before the Nightmare Part six: Through the Nightmare Part seven: Through Hell

***

"Very well. I accept the terms." Morpheus spoke and even though he had kept his voice stern and calm you could see raging anger in his black eyes. You shuddered as icy chills ran down your spine on a recollection of his own words "Saving only the Creator, Lucifer is perhaps, the most powerful being there is," and there he was, because of your own foolishness and impertinence preparing himself to battle against Lucifer himself.

"Delightful!" sang Lucifer, "It's been centuries since we had a proper duel in Hell! Even demons need a little entertainment once in a century!" he walked to the edge of the balcony to announce the duel. The sounds of shrieking demons chanting wildly, calling for battle, praising their master's name echoed throughout the castle, making the walls shake. You didn't dare to step up to see the crowds of demons. Your imagination and the physical pain you felt at the sound of their roar were enough to make your blood freeze in your veins. Instead, you ran up to Morpheus, took his hand and pulled him aside.

"You can't fight Lucifer!" you exhaled with fear in your eyes "You've said it yourself, his much more powerful than you! You can't..."

"Does enslavement in eternal damnation sound like a dream future to you?" he growled, "Take my sand and leave. Now!" he demanded. The endless blackness of his eyes glared at you angrily. All the stars had disappeared, concealed beneath looming wrathful clouds.

"No!" You too were angry, "I didn't go through Hell with you only to run away and leave you here now!"

"Be quiet," he commanded, " Have you not done enough damage already?" he snapped at you with his deep, dark growl, "Take my sand and go…"

"I am not leaving!" you gritted.

" This is an admirable attitude," Lucifer descended from the balcony, now dressed all in black, spread his leathery black wings resembling those of a dragon, and took his position, "I hope you were not imploring your witch to flee while she still can Morpheus. That would have been less than honorable of you."

Morpheus did not utter a word. The endless darkness of his eyes swept over your face one last time, before turning away from you and walking slowly through the chamber ready to confront Lucifer. He stood proudly in front of him, like the King he was, with his head held up high, his eyes aimed straight at Lucifer, rage painted on his face was in stark contrast to his calm demeanor.

"As the challenger, I set the meter and make the first move," Lucifer spoke in his melodic voice and sneered. It was entertainment to him, a game, he was enjoying himself. He towered over Morpheus, standing completely still, with his hands folded loosely in front of him, as if he knew he had already won.

"Very well," Morpheus growled, and although he was still like a statue you could see his chest rising rapidly under heavy breathing in anticipation of the inevitable. "Make your move."

For a moment, your racing thoughts began to ask what exactly this battle should look like. What measure is one supposed to use to assess the strength of an Angel and an Endless being? They stood a few paces away from each other, neither of them even flinched, they had no weapons of any kind, yet somehow you couldn't imagine that they would engage in hand-to-hand combat.

"I am…" began Lucifer, "A dire wolf…." suddenly out of nowhere you heard the growl of a wild wolf coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time, "Prey-stalking, lethal prowler," he sneered and simply stood there. The space around you suddenly darkened, as if the walls themselves suddenly got closer, as if the ceiling above your head suddenly closed. The hairs on your skin rose, the air took on a distinct metallic taste. Andrenaline made you open your eyes wide as the smells surrounded you flooding your senses. You could smell the stench of wet fur, the scent of decayed plants on forest paths, the smell of trees and bark, you could feel the soft earth under your feet and drops of cold water on your own skin. Your heart pounded with a slow rhythmic beat, waiting, ready.

"I am a hunter," Morpheus growled, "horse-mounted, wolf stabbing," the ground beneath you trembled under galloping hooves as the metallic clang of armor echoed through the chamber. Suddenly your senses picked up other scents, the smell of leather and steel, the touch of leathery reins against your own hands, the gentle tinkle of an arrow dart on your fingers. The muscles of your arms tensed as if they themselves were the ones straining the bow, then relaxed with the swish of the released arrow cutting through the silence.

Lucifer suddenly grunted, wincing in pain, fresh blood marked his black leather jacket and his arms. Breathing heavily he composed himself and continued….

"I am a serpent," this time the sneer did not appear on his face, he aimed his gaze straight at Morpheus and continued his attack, fury stained his angelic voice, "Horse biting..." the vicious hissing of a snake reached your ears from somewhere on the ground, from somewhere around your feet, and your legs involuntarily took a few frightened steps, "...poison-tooth" your heart pounded wildly as the room filled with the neighing of a terrified horse, and the clank of metal armor. In horror, you felt your body suddenly go numb, the acid spread in your mouth only to rush through your body carried by blood.

Morpheus gasped and you gasped along with him. His face bore red of inflamed blood, the veins on his neck and face bulging and black against it. He looked at Lucifer ferociously and attacked….

"I am a bird of prey," a gravelly growl came out from his core, "snake devouring, talons ripping" you heard a gust of wind swept by the eagle's wings, its cry tore through the surrounding silence. Your own hands suddenly felt the warmth, the wetness of torn flesh crumbling under your fingers. You looked with horror at Lucifer's face covered with three bloody scratches only to see blood under your own fingernails a second later. You couldn't understand what was going on, your own body was trembling, refusing to cooperate as if at the same time it was distraught and on the verge of fainting. Morpheus looked at the bloody wounds on Lucifer's face with superiority, as if satisfied by the look of disbelief painted on Lucifer's face.

"I am..." Lucifer picked himself up and rubbed his own blood between his fingers, "..a butcher bacterium." he looked at Morpheus furiously. You heard right next to you the hollow sound of a corpse helplessly falling to the ground, you breathed in the stench of decomposition and death, your body went numb as if it was dying itself. You watched in horror as Morpheus fell to his knees, his body shaking, as his marble face crumbled before your eyes, devastated by degradation. The blood stopped coursing through your veins, your heart had completely froze, you wanted to scream, to plead to Lucifer to stop, although your voice seemed trapped in your throat along with the air you were holding back. Subconsciously, you reached into your pocket and clenched your hand tightly on the sand vial, when suddenly your eyes opened as the sigh of exhalation escaped your lips. You saw as if the veil from your eyes was suddenly lifted as if you were looking with your own eyes for the first time in your life. On the ground beside you lay a snake torn to pieces, not far from it the dead decomposed body of an eagle, a few feet behind kneeling Morpheus lay a fallen horse with its dead rider still on its back. Morpheus swept over you with a trembling look then uttered in a strained voice….

"I am the world..." the ceiling above your head had suddenly opened to reveal a sky of pure blue covered with fluffy clouds, " Space-floating, life-nurturing," a light breath of the warm wind soothed your burning skin for a moment, bringing with it the chirping of birds and the buzzing of insects. Under your feet, rich, soft, green grass bloomed, inviting you to lie down, to rest for a while, to stop and listen to the beating life.

"I am a Nova!!" Lucifer's voice ripped through the singing life, "All exploding! Planet cremating!" You rose your eyes up only to see a flaming planet-sized sphere of fire tearing through the sky. You wanted to cover your face, to protect yourself from the devastating flame raging around you, devouring life, burning away all that is beautiful and good in this world. You watched as the ground wept in pain, you heard the life around you die in an instant, and only the sight of Morpheus fighting relentlessly forced you to stand still, to not avert your eyes. You could only stand and watch as he stretched his arm out in front of him, as if he wanted to protect himself from the devastating fire, you could only stand and watch as his skin began to burn, to disintegrate consumed by the fire, his scream of pain tore through the sounds of the crumbling world, only to fall silent a moment later. He collapsed on the ground devoured by flames, smoke rose from his body, he was breathing heavily, and although in your mind you wanted to run towards him you could only stand and watch as with the remnants of his strength he tried to pick himself up, finally giving up from exhaustion.

"I am a universe..." he whispered weakly, "All things encompassing, all life embracing..."

Lucifer did not waste a moment, victory was within his grasp, pride and hubris filled him as he hatefully delivered his attack.

"I am anti-life. The Beast of Judgment. The dark at the end of everything...." he delivered with a silencing voice. Before your eyes, Morpheus has fallen.

Implacable darkness had flooded everything within your sight. Gone were the stars and galaxies that just a moment ago were teeming with life around you, swallowed by the endless, infinite, unrelenting blackness. Within it, your eyes caught Morpheus's body, lying motionless on the black ground, his eyes empty, his face dead, only a barely discernible trembling betrayed that life had not yet left him.

"What will you be then, Dream Lord?" Lucifer asked contemptuously.

Morpheus attempted to get up, but his power left his body, consumed by the infinite darkness of anti-life. He tried to speak, his voice trembled, but he could not, he sank to the ground breathing heavily.

As you watched Morpheus lying on the ground, defeated and yet still trying to fight on, you felt as if something had snapped inside you. Some long-forgotten feeling, repressed, killed, suddenly awoke within you once again with all its force. You didn't understand how you had unknowingly wandered into the Dreaming, you didn't understand why you had offered Morpheus your help, you didn't know why you had followed him into Hell itself. You couldn't understand anything of what you saw, what you experienced…but you could feel. You could feel with everything you had that this was the right thing to do. You couldn't understand why but you could feel, you could feel that this is where you were supposed to be, that this is where you belonged, by his side. You ran up to him and, with a trembling heart, fell to your knees.

"Morpheus..." you whispered, tears rushed to your eyes, "Morpheus...can you hear me..." you took his hand, "you can't die..." darkness consumed him completely, the stars that usually glowed in his eyes had died, and you could not help but let tears fall down your cheeks.

"A mortal crying over the Endless, that is a sight I have not yet seen," Lucifer stood behind your back and looked at his opponent with curiosity, "Still with us Dream?"

"Fuck off!" you hissed "Of course he is! And it is his move!"

"There are no more moves. What can survive an anti-life?"

***

Morpheus felt as if he was drowning, drowning in an infinite, empty abyss filled with darkness. He could not feel anything anymore, could not see anything except the all-encompassing darkness. He tried to think but could not. He tried to move yet his body had become numb, dead. Everything around him was quiet, hollow. He could not see the stars in the sky above him, nor could he feel the earth beneath him, there was no breeze on his face, nor the smell of the earth, nor the taste of life. The galaxies he once explored were gone, the warmth of all-encompassing life extinguished. He no longer saw men's dreams and fantasies, nor their desires and fears, nor their nightmares. He saw only the empty space, the infinite void. And yet, in the depthless void, his moribund senses captured a voice. The voice of a woman. A voice that carried strength and beauty, a voice that spread the warmth of life around him. With the remnants of his strength, he grasped onto it, grasped onto it like a lonely star in the endless black sky. She whispered his name. "Was it his name?" She cried. She felt…. The warmth of her feelings had torn through the infinite bleakness of death and he could see her. She knelt beside him…was it the warmth of her skin that he had felt on his hand? Was it the taste of her tears running down his cheeks that he had felt on his lips? Why was she crying? Why was this woman crying over his dying body? Why did she care? Why was this mortal weeping over him? But she wasn't a mere mortal, she was something more... "Who was she? Who am I?" Why did the warmth of her skin on his hand had felt like the first rays of the sun falling down on the highest peaks of the snowy mountains? Why did her tears tasted like soothing rain that brings comfort to a dried up land yearning for life? Why, in the darkness, her voice seemed like the whisper of the wind that gently swayed the trees of an ancient forest, sweeping the waters from the leaves, nourishing the life coursing beneath the roots? Why in the all-encompassing darkness her glistening eyes looked like the purest diamonds, precious, unblemished, pure. Why did the sight of her in the infinite void awaken within him the desire to see her smile, to create her dreams, to vanquish her nightmares? Why did this woman banish the all-consuming emptiness and brought with her warmth, life, and desires? Who was she? Why did she bring…hope?

Morpheus felt life in him again. He slowly moved his eyes and saw Lucifer standing behind Y/N's back. He was beaming with satisfaction, almost reaching his hands towards her, ready to take her, ready to claim her as his own. Morpheus gathered all the strength that was left in him and forced him to stand up.

"I...am...Hope..."

"Hope," Lucifer repeated with disbelief staining his voice.

Morpheus only straightened up with dignity, measured his opponent with a stern look, and waited.

"Well Lightbringer, "he stared daringly, "It's your move. What is it that kills hope?"

Lucifer answered nothing, he only continued to glare in disbelief, trailing his eyes between you and Morpheus. You could not help but smile through your tears. Your spirit had returned. Morpheus stood before you and measured the Ruler of Hell with a stern gaze like a proud, noble King.

"Mazikeen! Bring Morpheus' helm!" he ordered.

The demon that had been lurking behind the pillars watching its master the whole time suddenly disappeared only to return a moment later with Morpheus' helm in its hands. She bowed her head slowly and directed her eyes towards the ground while she handed him his property.

"Thank you Lightbringer," Morpheus took his helm from the demon's hands, "The Ruler of Hell is honorable indeed. I will not forget this."

"Honorable?" Lucifer shivered upon hearing this word, "You joke, surely." he took a few quick steps and attempted to stare him down, "I have billions of demons ready to devour you and this witch, they are waiting for my command. Thell me Dream Lord, why should we let you leave? Helm or not you have no power here." he looked down on Morpheus menacingly. But Morpheus had no fear in him, he did not even fling upon hearing Lucifers' thread. "After all..." Lucifer continued, "what power have dreams in Hell?"

"You say I have no power here," you saw a barely visible smirk on Morpheus's face, "Perhaps you speak truly. But to say dreams have no power in hell..." he continued with his deep husky tone, "Tell me Lucifer Morningstar...what power would Hell have if those here imprisoned would not able to dream....of Heaven."

Lucifer's face contorted into a grimace of displeasure as if Morpheus had just delivered a painful slap to his face.

"One day, Morpheus, we shall destroy you..." promise was made.

Morpheus only bowed slightly and glared at him dangerously. With a vicious smug on his face, he replied.

"Until that day, Lightbringer."

He turned toward you and with one hand holding his helm he placed the other on your waist and pulled you closer. Holding you securely close to him he swept around you golden sand that swirled, danced around you, enveloping you in its golden grains, and transporting you away from Hell, back home.

***

In the blink of an eye, the vast expanse of barren land disappeared, the stench of death was gone, and the taste of ash in the mouth had vanished. Gone were the flames, the demons, and the terrifying images of destruction. There was only silence which was cut only by Morpheus's heavy breaths. You were back in your house. Nearly without moving, Morpheus placed his helm down on the edge of the couch and, still keeping his hand on your waist, stared into your eyes. Relief spread over your heart at the sight of the stars shining again in his eyes. The closeness of his body made you feel his heart beating with a calm rhythmic beat.

"Are you alright?" he finally asked, his voice low, gently brought comfort to your devasted nerves.

"I think I'm gonna need a month to process," you smiled as you felt your heartbeat matching its rhythm to his.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier," he wrapped you in his darkness, a darkness that was so different from the one you had just experienced. For this one brought warmth, comfort, a soothing sense of security, it took away all your fears and offered peace in return.

"I deserved that," you replied with a barely audible voice.

"No, you did not," darkness within his eyes gazed directly into your soul.

"You have your helm, what will you do now?"

"I can see my ruby, I must retrieve it. And I must return to the Dreaming. There are matters I need to attend to."

"Right! Ruby and stuff..." you slipped away from his hold and moved away from him.

"And stuff..."

Silence fell between you, a silence you desperately wanted to break with the million questions that flooded your awakened mind.

"Morpheus, I'm sorry for what I've done!" it was the first thing that came out, "I'm sorry for what I have put you through! It was all my fault! The demon! My lack of self-control! I am so sorry!" you began apologizing nervously. Morpheus only closed the distance between you two again and placed his hands on your arms as if he wanted to stop you, to calm you.

"You have nothing to apologize for..." he looked deeply into your eyes, the stars were shining with warm, kind light.

"I brought you nothing but trouble..." you argued.

"You brought more than that," he cut you off "Much more..."

With him standing so close to you again you could only smile with the smallest of smiles and nod.

"I must leave you now..." he seemed saddened by that.

You reached into your pocket and pulled out a vial of sand.

"Your sand..." you extended your open palm towards him but he only closed the vile in your hand and smiled gently.

"Keep it. It is my gift to you."

You stared at the vial resting on your open palm, hesitated for a moment, then safely closed it inside.

"I have so many questions, Morpheus..." your thoughts started racing again, "Back there...I could...I was..." you were struggling with sentences, "I could see it all! I could feel it all! Even before I touched your sand! Sand only amplified it!" you were panicking, "Morpheus what is wrong with me?"

"I do not believe that there is something wrong with you Y/N, but I do not also have the answers you seek," he gently caressed your cheek, "At least not now," he reached for his pouch of sand and wiped the grains around him, "You are an oddity Y/N" he smiled, "I will find the answers," and with these words, he disappeared.

Standing alone in your home surrounded by burned-out candles, you couldn't help but feel empty as if the void was trying to overwhelm you. You were all alone, with your boiling thoughts and your hand clenched on a vial of sand.

"What now?"

***

~~Back in Hell~~

Lucifer was standing on the balcony pondering his defeat, anger brewing within him. How could he, Lucifer Morningstar, be defeated by the Lord of Dreams? How did he, one of the most powerful beings in the entire universe could be defeated by Hope? And yet it was not all in vain. At the end of the day, he knew something that neither Dream Lord nor the Witch knew. In the end, he did not lose, the game was just beginning, and he had just gained a winning card.

"Mazikeen!" he called after his trusted demon, "I need you to carry the word to Desire and Despair. Tell them that Lucifer Morningstar, Ruler of Hell, affirms that their plan is proceeding flawlessly."

Part nine: Consequences

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Authors note: We are finally out of Hell! I really wanted to go there, I had this scene, you know which one, stuck in my head for over the week! Like both of these scenes, I'm sure you know which scenes I'm talking about. And all that journey through this and the previous chapter had to take place, it all led to these two scenes! But honestly, I'm glad we are out of hell because writing these two chapters was...well hell! I enjoyed writing them so much but at the same time I wanted to write this fight between Morpheus and Lucifer as best as I could, I needed to give it justice. I hope I did. And that scene, that one part had to be perfect. I'll be honest, this chapter is not that long but it took the longest to write. Tell me what you think! What do you think will happen next? I for once am so happy that we are back in Waking World. I have a few well....interesting scenes stuck in my head, that will take place in the real world ;) Can't wait to write them down! At last, as always, Dear Reader, thank you for reading :)

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