#but only uses his status as a weapon he wields against himself

[shannonsketches]

also REALLY love that super's manga continues the old manga's relationship between Vegeta and his title of Prince as something he's distant/passive with and it's either only brought up by other characters or when he's having a self-worth breakdown

shout out to Toya/Toriyama for using Toei's "I'm the Prince of All Saiyans!" as a line Vegeta throws out when he's intentionally trying to annoy his opponent, I laughed very hard about that

[tohwitchesduels]

REQUEST BATTLES OF WITCHES DUELS - Battle 55: Hunter The Golden Guard vs Matt Tholomule

Disclaimer: This is not a popularity contest or which character you prefer, in this tournament, you decide who is stronger/better/smarter/etc. opponent.

information for both opponents under the cut to those who don't know what they can do in their battle:

Matt Tholomule:

Mattholomule specializes mainly in construction and illusion magic.

Matt is known to be quite underestimated by those around him, but he does possess the skill, even if gloats to be able to bite more than he can chew. Matt is however pretty smart when it comes to the usage of his powers, even if he doesn't use them too offensively. He can however be pretty hopeless at times, being taken out easily if his opponents prove to be more formidable than him. He does lack drive and fighting spirit if he does not have confidence in his abilities.

Matt doesn't respect Hunter at all, considering him weak. In LR he really meant it when he said that he could take him. Matt recognizes how he may ultimately not be the best battler of this tournament but in his eyes Hunter is an absolute fraud who shouldn't have gotten this far as he did, so he wants to challenge him because of that, bringing up Hunter's fraudulent win against Luz (Luz beat Matt fair and square but how comes Hunter supposedly won the fight with her?). To Matt, it doesn't matter if he was the Golden Guard, to Matt Hunter, ain't shit.

Matt does not possess any known palisman, nor showcased any on the screen. Because of this anyone fighting him would also not be allowed to wield a palisman

Size alteration - Matt is capable of altering the size of any of his body parts. This displayed first during Covention with his head.

Construction Tool - Matt is capable of creating tools made out of earthen materials as displayed TTLGR when he created a key/blade to cut Gus free. This ability during battle can manifest as Matt is capable of creating any kind of tool or weapon to help him during the battle.

Geokinesis - Implied in TTLGR that Matt can telekinetically move earthen materials as displayed when he helped clean the graveyard by moving the broken parts of the statues placing them back and making them stick together. During the battle, Matt would be capable of throwing rubble at his opponents.

Rock Wall - as displayed in LR, Matt is capable of creating walls to block attacks. The walls are thin so can be broken through enough force, but Matt displayed pretty great reflexes with those walls and they are still fairly durable.

Rock Dummy - as displayed in FTF, Matt is capable of creating a rock dummy of himself to appear wherever he feels like it.

Camouflage - Displayed in its full glory in FTF where Matt made Amity completely disappear. During the battle, Matt can turn himself invisible temporarily and other people as well (battle royale-exclusive)

Smokescreen - Matt is capable of releasing a smokescreen that can disorient his opponents.

Link to more of Matt's capabilities here

Hunter The Golden Guard:

I will only mention moves by names rather than delve into specifics as they're too large for that. In the name (with a few exceptions for the sake of clarification for some), there's a link to more of Hunter's capabilities.

Hunter has zero respect for Matt and does not take him seriously in the slightest. He really is disappointed that supposedly he's the closest Gus has to a romantic partner at the moment, his little bro can do better. During this battle, Hunter is however even more peeved by Matt because he really talks a big amount of sh!t for someone who's not even worth dirt on Hunter's shoes. There is also the fact that Matt painfully reminds Hunter of everything he loathes about himself. To say the least, Hunter will show Matt why he was Golden Guard, to begin with, and put Matt in his place.

Hunter "Insert your preferred surname/s for him", also known as a former and the youngest Golden Guard in history, head of the Emperor's Coven, Emperor Belos's right-hand man. One must know that unlike other contestants (aside from Luz) he's not constricted to specific covens and tracks since as a former leader of the coven that allows all kinds of magic, Hunter will have expertise in all types of coven magic as well, and he's also very dedicated to studying wild magic.

Hunter himself was also known as a genius teen prodigy and is undeniably a child soldier who was raised by both hell and the library to get to the very top. While he was born magicless, it did not stop him from earning his title as the right-hand man of the most powerful witch of the Boiling Isles. Hunter spends days and nights both training and learning everything about magic both as a duty and as fun. He's incredibly knowledgeable regarding all kinds of magic, meaning it's hard to actually surprise him with anything. And since he's a child soldier raised in a magical military with no magic by himself, Hunter had to survive hell even worse than some of the adults that also were part of this coven went through, and he survived it all. Hunter has already been to countless witches' duels beforehand, he made it several times through a maze full of traps, and judging by how he calls getting from the top to the bottom of the mountain alive "a classic", this might as well suggest that this Hunter's version of "summer camp", as he did that numerous times and he considers it "fond memories". Hunter without a doubt has the most experience among all participants when it comes to battling, because you know Belos never gave him a break or easy time and for Hunter to be where he is today is all thanks to his own strength, intelligence, and resilience.

Hunter certainly has one of the strongest wills among all characters in TOH, as despite going through a ridiculous amount of pain, he is capable of brushing it off and pushing forward, with his only weakness being Belos. Hunter's willpower was even able to withstand Gus's trauma bubble which specifically puts you through your worst memories and even renders you useless, but Hunter resisted its effect and calmed Gus down instead, despite his pain being very fresh and severe and Hunter in fact not being ok with it, but Hunter keeps on going anyway. One must know it's very hard to break him, trust Belos, he tried but didn't succeed. Hunter even managed to resist Belos's possession for some time, which is a lot considering Belos was his abuser and had power over him metaphorically and physically in that moment.

Hunter displayed throughout the series to have some great athletic skills and agility, being able to keep up pace with running Luz without breaking a sweat while proving he has experience in parkour and acrobatics as seen in him flying on staff. Certainly, he can use his skills to evade incoming attacks with his reflexes while keeping up with his opponents and close distance between him and his enemies. He also has plenty of brute strength at his disposal as well, considering he managed to shatter falling debris by just swinging his staff in one hand.

Hand-To-Hand Combat - Hunter has proven to be efficient in hand-to-hand combat throughout the series. While Hunter overall plays more on defense as a protector rather than offense, he is not afraid to throw a punch. This post goes more in-depth about Hunter's proficiency in staff-wielding, but I will explain some of it here too. Hunter as a trained soldier and experienced martial artist has his body be his weapon. He knows how the body works and has great control over it. He defeated both Luz and Eda in his debut with a quick kick while evading their attack, straight-up toyed with Kikimora and had to be put to sleep to be restrained by coven scouts as he was still fighting and kicking. This also gives him a huge advantage against other competitors who are used to fighting across distance, whereas Hunter fights at a close range.

Back in EC Hunter learned how to be smart, resourceful, and strong, and as I've mentioned before multiple times, he's a child soldier. His opponents usually underestimate him, but he's not the one to be crossed. His victories compromise of defeating Eda and Luz on 2v1 in his debut; immediately defeating Luz in HP once he's recovered; defeating Kikimora in HP; and Tying with Amity in EL after being physically and mentally exhausted, in 2v1 with King (who was rather defeated by Hunter in this duel), while wielding a completely new staff and restraining himself to not kill her but just getting the key; winning flyer derby game on his first try; catching Darius off-guard (which is a feat with Darius's great reflexes); making a strong glyph combo on his very first try; resisting Gus's trauma bubble; kicking ass during Hexside against EC battle; he was defeated twice by coven scouts, which while fair, was also due to his poor condition and the second time he had to be put to sleep to be restrained; handling abomatons and scouts with rest of the Hexsquad during S2 finale; standing his ground and protecting Hexsquad from Belos while being severely weakened in KT; breaking through Willow's vines in FtF with his freshly awakened powers.

Hunter now is sub-merged with Flapjack meaning he does not require staff anymore to cast spells as magic now comes from within. What's more, I allow Hunter to also levitate/fly without the help of any staff. This is more of a fanon ability, but it's supposed to connect him to having the powers of a palisman (but no, he can't turn into a staff, nor is wooden) and abilities of a palisman are usually just enhanced abilities of the holder, meaning flight is in capacity of any witch, but all of them utilise staff since flight on its own is probably hard spell to pull off, but Hunter should do just fine for the sake of this tournament.

During this fight, Palismen are not allowed.

Flash Step

Comet Charge

Resistance Spell

Block Spell

Underground Escape

Tool Creation

Tying Spell

Battle Armor

Laser Bolt

Lightning Strike

Barrier Spell - is not demonstrated in the show itself but in storyboards of Yasmin Khudari, where Hunter could create a force field to shield Willow from falling debris. In the final product, he just used his own brute strength and staff to protect Willow rather than magic, but I will allow this spell meaning Hunter can create barriers that can withstand heavy hits and create them anywhere he desires.

Flesh-Eating Plant - - this is more of a speculation rather than a confirmed fact, but I rewatched ST, and Luz and Eda weren't originally standing in the flesh-eating plant until GG showed up, so I decided to be funny and say he actually made this plant himself to taunt them, especially since he also knew what it does (which also shows his expertise in plants among many things). Hunter in battles can utilise flesh-eating plants to set traps across the battlefield to both harm and distract his opponents.

Telekinesis

Sand Blast

Sand Construct

Rock Fist

Earth Magic

Water Magic

Aqua Jet

Water Hand

Wall Of Vine And Ice

Return to Masterpost

[just-jordie-things]

Jordie imagine being a special grade and having the elders hold you captive bc you have a special power or whatever that’s valuable to them (after gojo gets sealed bc he’s been the one protecting you from them all this time) and then yuta coming along and going like “nope not this time I’m the one who’ll be protecting her from u guys now” ahhh and he like steals you away from them not caring about the consequences after 😂 off to the culling game you both goooo

LOVE this is sooo the plot i would use to play with dolls as a kid teehee

it was hard to tell how long it had been since the dreaded incident that sealed your fate.

well- your fate might've been sealed the day the higher ups got the best of you, tricking you into trusting them. you'd been lucky back then. still being a kid and having someone like the honored one looking out for you had gotten you out of a lot of trouble. he did right by you, for whatever reason, and you didn't have to spend a day running errands for the higher ups, or worse, rotting your days away in a cell.

but gojo satoru wasn't around to protect you anymore. and you weren't the only one behind the shield of his shadow. you caught wind of a hit on itadori yuji in your travels around the city that was once shibuya. the thought sent a shiver down your spine. if the higher ups wanted itadori dead, it wouldn't be long before they came after a special grade like you.

they'd feared you from the moment you came across their radar. with an ability s powerful yet so simple to wield, you were a threat in the eyes of the higher ups. you'd mastered your technique long before you turned eighteen... had gojo not taken pity on you (as you assumed he did) you would've been dead before adulthood was even on the horizon.

you never really got to thank the aloof six eyes. you hope someday you'll get the chance. but you've never been much of an optimisit.

and it shows, too, when okkotsu yuuta shows up and your first move is to blast him to smithereens.

(you don't kill him, btw. he dodges)

logic tells you not to trust him. you've never met him before, although you think you remember gojo saying something about another special grade under his wing with a nasty ex that would do all his bidding. gojo always enjoyed being cryptic in a gossipy way.

but when okkotsu yuuta introduces himself to you he has no weapons drawn, and the softest pair of eyes you've ever had the pleasure of gazing into. perhaps that was his weapon, seeing as they weakened you into a softer state as well.

against your better judgment, you fell for the whole thing. you accepted that he was here to look out for you, to keep you safe from the higher ups and whatever else was roaming shibuya's remains and looking for trouble. you let him take your hand to help you up, you gave him your name despite him being more familiar with you than you were of him, and... you followed him.

you didn't understand why he felt a need to do all of this- find you, protect you. you were strangers, merely sharing the same status of rank. he didn't owe you anything... and yet the longer you traveled by his side, the more you felt you owed him your life.

over time you'll come to trust him, you're sure of it. you can tell by the way your heart palpitates when his eyes meet yours. you've already come to trust him more than you care to admit.

and perhaps there are other warm regards blossoming inside of you as well, but you won't care to admit that for a long, long time yet.

[writtenjewels]

Heart of Stone

[random AU idea time!]

Salim tried to hold back his excitement as he entered the temple. These old places were so full of history. Being here to see it for himself, to look at the artifacts with his own eyes, see the carvings and the architecture of long ago, was exactly why he was here. Though of course the others on the expedition would say he was here as a translator. He was there to read any of the Arabic script found in the temple. All the rest of it—the artifacts, learning about this lost culture—it was a bonus.

The Americans who hired him all brought something to the expedition. Rachel was familiar with the area and spoke the language, though she couldn't read it; her husband Eric was a scientist, more interested in the caves that now served as home to the temple; Nick was brought on to take stock of any artwork; Joey took photographs; Clarice was consulted on any flora or fauna they found; Merwin was in charge of all the equipment. Salim tried to be polite to all of them.

Eric led the way into a new passage of the temple. It looked like a large audience chamber. It was empty except for a statue standing just to the right of what might have once been a throne. Eric motioned for Merwin to set up lights so they could get a better look.

Salim had seen pictures of famous statues like Michelangelo's David and The Thinker, but never had the opportunity to see one in person before. Looking at this one, he could see it deserved to be among those masterpieces. This piece was carved in the shape of a man. If Salim were to guess the intended age, he would say perhaps early thirties. The armor suggested this was meant to be a soldier or a royal guard. A helmet covered the statue's head, but enough hair was showing for Salim to see that every strand had been painstakingly chiseled.

“Look at this,” he gestured to the others. “Isn't it beautiful?”

“It's incredible,” Rachel agreed. “It's so detailed, too. It must have been modeled after a real person. See?” She aimed her flashlight to sweep over the statue's face. Salim followed the light, nodding as he took in the jawline and shape of the statue's nose. “What do you think, Nick?”

“Amazing,” he awed. “It must have taken them years to carve this thing. I wonder why there's only one?”

“Maybe they saw how much effort it took, and stopped,” Joey suggested. He lifted his camera to take a picture. “Why isn't he holding a weapon?”

Salim noticed that, too. The statue was not wielding a sword or a spear. Instead, it held a shield out in front as if preparing to defend against a threat. Salim imagined that in the right hands, a shield could be a powerful weapon on its own. The others moved on to explore the rest of the chamber but he stayed by the statue. He was curious about it. Who was the warrior, and why go through so much trouble to carve him in such fine detail?

There was something strangely lifelike in the statue. Though the eyes were blank stone, they held a fierce determination. Salim imagined this warrior was a great defender. The armor left the statue's arms uncovered, showing firm muscle. It looked like there was something on the statue's left arm. Salim leaned in a little closer to take a look.

“Oh, that's a shame,” he said out loud. “Someone's been down here and drew graffiti all over this statue.” He lifted his eyes up to the statue's face. “If you lived in our time, my friend, that might make an interesting tattoo.” The statue stared back at him, ever vigilant in its silent guardianship. “We're lucky you're here,” Salim remarked. “Just between us, I don't think any of them know how to fight.”

That was when he noticed the carvings on the shield. Most of it was worn away, but he could make out a few of the words.

“ 'Awake protector',” he read out loud. “ 'Guard against all enemies.' All enemies, hm? By yourself? I'm impressed.” He smiled at the statue. Eric called to him. “I need to get back to work,” Salim said. He gave the statue a friendly pat and headed over to where Eric was waiting.

That night, Salim was having some trouble sleeping. The Americans had all settled by now. After tossing and turning, Salim got up and went for a walk. He went a few paces away from camp and caught something shifting in the darkness ahead. He looked back to make sure. Yes, all of the Americans were accounted for. Clarice said there were likely to be different creatures making their home in these caves, like bats. Salim wished he thought to bring something to fight with. The closest thing he had to a weapon was a crowbar Merwin brought along with the rest of the gear. Salim hurriedly snatched it up and carefully made his way forward.

There was movement again. Salim raised his crowbar prepared to strike. He didn't want to hurt any of the wildlife here, but he certainly wasn't going to allow a bat to fly into his face. More movement, and this time it was followed by a noise like shifting rock.

“Hello?” he called. “Is someone there?”

“Hehhhhh.” The noise sounded more like a groan. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand. “Hehhhhlohhhh.”

“Who's there?” Salim demanded. “Come out where I can see you!”

The shifting rock noise happened again, louder this time. There was a shape approaching him. It was too big to be a bat. Salim's heart pounded hard against his chest. He gripped the crowbar in both hands. The shape drew close enough for him to make out that it was roughly human-sized.

The figure at last came into view. The crowbar slipped from Salim's fingers and clattered to the ground. He barely noticed, too stunned by what he was seeing.

The statue of the warrior was standing there, staring right back at him.

[achaotichuman]

Hedonism

Welcome back for day three of Tamlin Week, today's prompt I went with both. Prompts- Flower language, and Mates. Though I used them quite loosely in this fiction.

This oneshot is focusing around Tamlin reconciling with his feelings about Lucien and taking action finally to attempt to fix what he has lost. He has never been good with words, and much less any kind of relationship. But for Lucien he will try. For Lucien he has to try.

You can read on Ao3 or below the cut!

Warning- Explicit Mature Content.

The sun was on the edge of the horizon, a few minutes from slipping below the line of the glittering sea when Tamlin landed in Day. The white marble, sandstone and gold gleamed in the dusk light. A smatter of pinks and yellows smeared over the picturesque city. His own golden hair gleamed in the light. The gold in his eyes like spots of sunlight as he looked upon the Palace of gems and carved marble. 

The guards standing as sentries either side of the large gilded doors shared a glance. Neither showing any signs of recognition when they looked upon the disgraced High Lord. The disappointment of his father, and his father before him. It was a sigh of relief to for once not be seen as the Lord of the Spring Lands. 

Tonight he had braided his hair with forget-me-nots, marigolds and bluebells. Spilling down the plain white shirt he wore. A simple beige coat overtop, and black pants. Daggers nowhere to be seen tonight, only a leather satchel slung over his chest. Gripping the leather strap tightly, he lowered his head and looked through his long, blond eyelashes at the guards. Walking slowly up the stairs. 

“Your business here?” The one on the left, a male dressed in armour from head to toe, but with a peek of dark gold hair underneath his helmet. 

“I am here to see the Lord Lucien Van- SpellCleaver.” Tamlin corrected himself quickly. 

The guards both scrutinised him. But ultimately didn’t seem to think he was lying. Lucien had spies and sources scattered all throughout Prythian, it wasn’t an unlikely story that he was one of those. 

One guard called for an escort to take Tamlin into the Palace. Two new guards flanking him as he was led through winding hallways covered in finary. With statues of females and males lounging amongst their own nakedness, and art of swirling colours hanging from the pristine walls. 

Thesan’s Palace was grander, but Day held a hedonistic, lightly charged sense of finary. That Tamlin didn’t feel he belonged in. Lucien certainly did, the male was the definition of hedonistic. 

With scarlet hair that fell in thick, shiny waves over his shoulders, spilling down his back. Gleaming dark skin that glowed in afternoon sunlight. Amber eyes that shone with tame wickedness, even that scar added a hint of cruelty that only added to roughen his sharp appearance. Making him appear like a freshly sharpened blade. 

With a build made to wield weapons with effortless grace it was no wonder he resembled one. Tamlin looked down at the rolled out carpet across the tiled floors. All swirling gold and white. 

He was a smear of mud in an otherwise perfect painting. He shouldn’t have come here tonight. 

Eventually they faced a large dark oak door. Silence rang through the world, and Tamlin’s hand twitched. The servant, with fluttering wings and dark skin, who had been his escort, knocked three times in rapid succession. 

“Enter.” A muffled voice called, and Tamlin’s heart throbbed against his ribcage. He knew that voice so, so well. 

The delicate wrist of the Day Faery opened the golden handle, and the door swung open. Letting Tamlin take in the dappled sunshine breathing through the large open windows of the office. It was simple, simpler than the rest of the grand palace, but just as tasteful. With white lounges and dark wood furniture. And every wall that was not a window was a display case for dozens, if not hundreds of books. 

Lucien didn’t look up from his desk, as he scribbled away at writing some kind of letter. His slender fingers stained with black ink. A smudge under his eye, and on his cheek. His hair was held back by a red satin band. And he wore a long loose red silk robe with swirls of gold, open over his chest. 

“What is it?” Lucien asked, not looking up. 

“You have a visitor, my Lord.” The servant said, bowing low. 

“I do-” Lucien cut himself short as he finally looked up. 

“Everyone leave.” Lucien ordered, standing up to reveal the loose knot at his waist. 

In a second, the guards and servant scattered out, the door clicking shut behind Tamlin. His heart thundering as Lucien stepped away from behind his desk, robe swishing with every movement. His long hair fluttered behind him, strands of wine red hair glowing dark in the dying sunlight. He stared at Tamin, those glowering amber eyes not looking at his face but rather fixated on the flowers in his hair. 

“Tamlin.” Lucien said, as he made his way to a white lounge. Effortlessly draping himself over the blankets tossed lazily across it. A blank expression in his face, but his eyes revealed the true expanse of emotions hiding behind his false indifference, “What brings you from the South to the Solar Courts.”

“Are we really playing this game?” Tamlin asked with a cocked eyebrow, truly his hands began to tremble, so he folded them behind his back. Lucien’s eyes darted to the motion as a cruel smile slipped over his face, he knew, the bastard always knew. 

“Yes we are.” Lucien murmured, “You ensured it the last time I was in Spring. That we were back to these games.”

The last time Tamlin had laid eyes on Lucien. When they had fought so ferociously, both losing themselves to suppressed anger and the trauma they desperately hid from the eyes of others. Lucien had spat venomous words that in hindsight Tamlin knew he hadn’t meant. But in the moment, they had struck true. 

His magic had lost control once again. Falling prey to the insane beast writhing within him. He hadn’t meant to, but he’d done it all the same. Lucien had left with bruises and cuts, the most prominent of them all a blackened eye. 

Tamlin had run for him, but Lucien was gone with tears in his eyes before he could get a word out. 

“I didn’t mean it.” Tamlin whispered softly, "Truly I didn’t.”

“Doesn’t matter though does it?” Lucien hissed, “I know you can’t control your magic Tamlin, it wasn’t about the injury. For fuck’s sake, I broke your arm once on accident during sparring. But fucking Cauldron on earth and Mother in sky, I apologised right after.”

Tamlin kept his mouth shut and his eyes forward. Taking everything he said. 

“You’ve taken two years Tamlin, two fucking years. Two years of me thinking everything we had was truly thrown away, and now you come here thinking you can make it alright with an apology?” Lucien stood, gracefully smooth, that scarlet silk caressing his naked skin underneath. 

He said nothing, just waiting, waiting as Lucien watched him with those cunning, sharp eyes. Staring him down like he was deciding whether to ask him to leave or to punch him in the face. Neither Tamlin would have hated him for. 

Lucien waited for his response too, and when it was clear Tamlin wasn’t saying anything. He stalked forward. Head high and eyes locked in on green. The sun’s rays disappearing behind the horizon. 

Tamlin’s eyes trailed up and down Lucien, “Is it thrown away?”

For once during this entire conversation, Lucien looked at a loss for words. As if he had practised this encounter a hundred times over in the mirror, like Tamlin wasn’t following the script he had out, “What?”

“Is it thrown away? Is everything we used to be just,” Tamlin made a flitting gesture, “Gone.”

Silence echoed like thunder through the room. The room began to darken, as the sun was almost fully set. The pinks it left behind slowly dimming and giving way to deep purple and endless midnight blue. 

“I don’t know.” Lucien whispered.

Tamlin didn’t know either, he just knew he had to make this right. One way or another. Find someway to fix this. There was hope, Lucien hadn’t thrown him out yet, he was standing right in front of him. Telling him off as he had done for years. 

In those burning amber eyes, there was want. Lucien had waited for this day, so there must be some part of him that wanted it. 

And Tamlin needed to take advantage of the opportunity he had. To rekindle what they had lost, what in part had been taken from them, and in part he had neglected. 

But there were no words that he had that could fix this. No magic he possessed that could rebuild their relationship right this second. 

So Tamlin instead said something he knew Lucien would want to hear anyway, “The bar down in Summer is closing.”

Lucien blinked at him, surprised once more, Tamlin put the cherry on top, “It’s their last night open, they have a deal going. Three shots for the price of one.”

That bar was owned by two Lords who had moved to working in Tarquin’s Court. Tamlin had known them as long as he had been of drinking age. And knew they had a large supply of cheap alcohol that needed getting rid of quickly.

There was a heartbeat of silence, followed by another. 

Lucien turned on his heel and headed for a door that when it swung open, revealed his sleeping quarters. He slammed the door shut and Tamlin flinched, blinking at the door.

A grin curled on his lips as Tamlin counted in his head. 

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. 

The door swung open again and Lucien was fully dressed. Simple and mostly plain. A billowing white shirt with black pants. A golden drop hung from one ear, and a simple necklace with a blood red ruby dangled around his throat. 

“Off we go.” Lucien said, already heading for the door. 

And Tamlin was quick to follow. 

Disappearing from Day, they left the rich smells and salaciously, tasteful erotic air behind. Exchanging it for one of loud ruckus, the reek of cheap alcohol, and smoke thick air. 

Tamlin didn’t bat an eye as he walked from the old, chipped away street just on the outskirts of the Summer Court into the small half-broken door of the bar sitting like a hole in the line of old, old buildings. But from the corner of his eye, he watched Lucien’s back suddenly straighten, his face souring as his nose scrunched and his eyes narrowed. 

This, this felt more like him. Dirty, depraved and awful. A stain on the floor. It wasn’t Lucien though. May have been what he felt like years ago, but now as he had been reunited with his mother, with his brothers. And brought to a place that he clicked like the last piece of a puzzle, it wasn’t him any longer. 

It didn’t stop him though, from walking beside Tamlin into the crowded, roaring bar. 

The Lords of this place had neglected it for a while, leaving it all to be run by the two managers in charge. Once they made their way up the imperial ladder, they were finally closing it down. In all honesty the place was overrun by criminals, and should have been shut down ages ago. 

But the drunk violence, the selfish greed all around, the haze of drugs outlawed by the Court they were in and the unrestricted amount of drinks that poured from the bar, was something Tamlin needed to be able to forget. He knew it was disgusting. He knew he was partially hated by it. But he was a selfish man and that much he could admit. 

Lucien wasn’t though, which was why he seemed so out of place. 

But one thing was for sure. In the depraved darkness of this place, there was only a hunger for something to forget the days before and the days to come. To give in to the young of the night and let the swirling midnight haze sweep through the mind. As such, the formal resentment between High and Lesser Fae slipped away in this place. Turning a mix of cliques. Either those looking for a good fight to work out the tension of their work day, or those looking for a good fuck to work out their unmet need for pleasure. 

So Tamlin and Lucien elbowed their way through both High and Lesser Fae. Until they found two thankfully empty seats right at the bar counter. 

Both quickly stole away a place, and let their heavy selves rest against the countertop. The bartender looked up to see them. A lesser faery named Laurel, with white wings that were tinted pink at the edges. She had pale pink skin and an arrangement of flowers falling from her white hair. Despite the loveliness of her appearance. Laurel was also tall, taller than Tamlin, and stronger than him too. He knew that only because of the time he had drunkenly pushed a male down against the bartop and sucked him off on the spot. That night Laurel had to pick him and the male up and throw them outside. 

She saw them and waved with a big grin on her face. In a second she had three shots poured out and all were in front of them in a second. 

“Tam, long time no see.” She yelled over the crowd. 

“Good to see you too, Laurel!” He told her back, he then clasped Lucien’s shoulder and asked, “You remember Lu, right?”

“Yeah, course I remember Lucy.” She smiled at Lucien who waved back. 

“Yell out when you want more drinks, boys, there's plenty more that needs to go.” She said, then her eyes went to two males getting too rough at a table, “I gotta go sort that out, safe drinking!”

Tamlin laughed as he watched her brace a hand on the counter and swing herself over. Running to separate the two. 

As Tamlin turned around, he saw Lucien pick up the small glass, the clear liquor staring up at him. He knocked it back and winced as he did. But quickly took up the next. Tamlin grabbed his own before Lucien got too carried away. 

They said nothing as they waited for Laurel to be done dealing with the bastards fighting. She hopped back over the counter and wordlessly poured them more, before getting back to her own job, the next three were gone in a moment and this time Tamlin took two shots and Lucien one. 

Slowly, the bar began to quiet down. Turning to a buzz around them as the alcohol began to take effect. Laurel had scared the shit out of the noisiest of the lot, so everyone began to return to their own drinking and hiding in the corners away from her cunning eyes for a quick handjob. 

“So…” Tamlin started, he knew they needed to talk, but he didn’t know how to approach it. 

“Let’s play a drinking game.” Lucien stated, Tamlin blinked. 

Slowly, the blond breathed out, “Okay, what’s the game?”

Lucien lifted his empty shot glass to grab Laurel’s eye, and waited until she poured another three before disappearing again. 

“We talk about this.” He said, “And anytime one of us lies, sugarcoats it, or otherwise tries to hide what we think. You have to take a shot.”

This was dangerous. This was so, so dangerous. 

But if they didn’t do something, Tamlin was going to lose him forever anyway, so. 

Fuck it. 

“Okay.”

“Good, I’ll go first. I hate that I ever met you.”

Tamlin gritted his teeth, as his eyes gleamed. But it wasn’t hatred that curled in his gut, rather a fire that began to stoke itself up and up. 

So that’s how they were to play. 

Fine. 

“I hate that I ever met you.”

A growl loosened from behind the Day Heir’s teeth, “I hate that I learned to care for you at all.”

“I hate that I loved you enough to take you in.”

Lucien gripped the counter, “I hate that I loved you enough to defend you in front of Amarantha.”

“I hate you for going even though I told you time and time again it was a bad idea. That wouldn’t keep your mouth shut.” Tamlin carved a line in the counter with his claw, leaning back on the stool. 

“I hate you for coming after me right before I could finally let you go.” Lucien said, staring into the old chipping wood. 

“I hate that I didn’t force you to the continent when Amarantha struck.” Tamlin whispered. 

Lucien swallowed, “I would never have gone. And if you forced me it would have made me hate loving you more.”

“We are a tragedy, and it’s all my fault.” Tamlin breathed out. 

“No, it’s not.” The redhead told him, “It’s not all your fault.”

“Every scar you have is because of me, I mutilated you.” Tamlin told him. 

“No.” As soon as the word slipped from his mouth, Lucien reached over and took a shot. Throwing his head back, the red of his hair all slipped down his back. Throat bobbing as he swallowed. He slammed the glass back onto the counter and wiped his mouth aggressively, “Every scar I have is because of you. And it’s because of how much I fucking love you.”

“I hate you because I can’t fucking hate you!” Tamlin yelled, grinding his teeth together and squeezing his eyes shut so tightly they pulsed with pain.

“Well I hate you because no matter what, I can’t forget who you were to me. You are everything in me. You’re twisted around me, I can’t even look at a fucking tree without thinking of you!” Lucien stood up to look at him. 

“I hate there was nothing I could do.” A tear spilled down over Tamlin’s face, “I hate that no matter what, no matter who tells the story, there were so many times where there was nothing else I could do. I already begged Amarantha to spare you, I already tried to get you away from your brothers. I couldn’t stop what she did to your eye.”

Lucien whispered, “I hate that I couldn’t make it all stop. I hate that I couldn’t help you.”

“I hate that I made it so hard for you.” Tamlin murmured back, “I hate that in the end you even stopped yelling at me. You used to do that everyday.”

For once, a smile slipped over Lucien’s face. One pure and real and genuine. 

“We haven’t lost it all.” Lucien said, sitting back down, “We aren’t all gone.”

“What else can we do?” Tamlin asked. 

Lucien didn’t respond as he took another shot. Tamlin followed suit. As he did his head spun and the light in his eyes swam. 

Then he felt a pair of hot hands on his shoulders, making him turn to face Lucien. The male seemed closer than before. As if he had moved his chair across to be nearer. 

“I remember your hair.” Lucien whispered into the space between them, “I remember how much you liked me brushing it, or braiding it, or weaving flowers into it.”

He was silent then, as his index finger lifted to curl a fallen lock of blond strands around it. 

“I remember your skin.” Tamlin told him, “I remember each and every mark and freckle. And how you shiver when I run my finger down your neck like this.”

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the longing for his friend back, or even the repressed sexual need. Perhaps all three. Either way, Tamlin boldly moved his hand, trailing his fingers down from Lucien’s jaw, over the sensitive flesh of his dark throat, as expected, as he touched, Lucien shuddered. His soft, supple skin prickling underneath his fingertips. 

Tamlin stopped at the edge of his collar. Then let his hand fall away, before he rasped, “I remember that night right here, when I took you on the counter and we got thrown out because of it.”

Lucien’s breath was sucked from him, as his pretty face, all flushed pink from alcohol. Darkening in colour as he too remembered that night. 

Because Lucien was the male Tamlin sucked off that night. Too many drinks in, laughing and grabbing at each other. Getting hot and riled up. Lucien’s hot hands had slid over his shirt, eventually finding underneath the fabric. Tamlin’s mouth pressed into his neck, and large hands went up and down his thighs. Both had come to some kind of agreement not long before, that they explore the parts of them they had never been able to before. The parts that made them stare a little too long at the training sentries, the parts they had been told time and time again to hide in shame. 

Then, they had gone further in their explorations than ever before. Lucien’s hands found his chest and started groping him while whispering every dirty thought that went through his pretty head. And Tamlin lost his mind. 

In a haze of what must have been stupidity, drunkenness and pure lust. He pushed Lucien back onto the bartop, Lucien’s nimble fingers had unlaced his trousers in a second to spare them from being ripped by Tamlin’s claws. 

Tamlin’s body, running entirely on lust, had moved quicker than his thoughts. His head had gone down, and before he could even process his own actions, silky skin pierced his lips and flooded his mouth. Filling his throat as his eyes had rolled back. Lucien’s head had thrown back, moaning as he grabbed Tamlin’s hair and fucked up into his mouth. 

After being thrown out, they hadn’t talked of that day again, but Tamlin had never forgotten it. And from the wide-eyed look on Lucien’s face, he hadn’t forgotten it either. 

“Tamlin.” Lucien released his breath so carefully slow. Holding onto his control as much as he could. 

“Yes?” Tamlin ducked his head, pressing his lips to the same spot he had all those decades ago. 

“Mm, fuck.” Lucien bit his lip as his head tipped to the side. 

This was so dangerous. They shouldn’t be doing this. After everything that had gone down they shouldn’t be doing this. 

It just made Tamlin want it more.

He pressed a gentle kiss to Lucien’s skin. Before his tongue darted out and drew a line up to his jaw, before he bit into his skin. A sudden noise left Lucien’s throat, and those hot fucking hands moved. Lucien pulled Tamlin’s shirt out of his pants and immediately went under. Sliding up his skin and finding his nipples. Rolling the stiff buds between his fingers, pinching roughly. Tamlin groaned into his neck and bit down on the fleshy part of his neck and shoulder, harder than he meant too. Causing Lucien to squeeze his eyes shut as he suddenly jolted and moaned. 

One of his hands started groping Tamlin, while the other tugged his hard nipple. Leaning close to Tamlin’s ear, he whispered, “I remember how you moaned like a bitch when I did this.”

Suddenly, Lucien bit the tip of Tamlin’s very, very sensitive ear, and the blond Faery cried out. Trying to muffle himself on Lucien's shoulder. His hands went to Lucien’s thick thighs and started squeezing the hard muscles there. As he mouthed at his neck. 

Lucien licked up and down along the point of his ear, teasing the skin with his talented tongue. All the while his fucking fingers played with his nipples, hands occasionally swapping sides, one to grope, one to toy with the buds. 

“I hate how fucking hot you are.” Lucien breathed out. 

“That’s a lie.” Tamlin pointed out with a grin, “Take a shot.”

Lucien leaned back a little, regarding Tamlin with a fox’s smile, “Wicked.”

“Not as much as you.” Tamlin replied. 

Lucien licked his lips, as he slid his hands out. Making Tamlin shiver at the loss of contact. Moving to quickly lean over the counter, he snatched the bottle of alcohol from where Laurel had briefly left it to deal with another rowdy crowd. Lucien poured himself a shot. Then slowly brought it to his lips. Watching Tamlin over the rim as he took the liquor in his mouth, and swallowed. His pretty throat bobbing up and down as the contents of his glass were drained away. 

The fox kept his eye contact as he put the glass down, the second his fingers were away from it. Tamlin was on him. 

Pushing off his own seat, he practically climbed into Lucien’s lap in his desperation to get those hot lips on his own. Grabbing his face, their mouths met. Both moaned into each other. Lucien grabbed the back of Tamlin’s head with one hand, then slipped his other back up his shirt. At the same time he started pinching and groping again, he pulled the High lord’s hair hard. 

Tamlin whimpered into Lucien’s mouth, as he slipped Lucien his tongue. Causing the male to groan and pull his hair harder, the flowers falling out as his braid came undone. 

His hair had grown wildly longer since they had last been together. As it untangled it fell down to his thighs. Lucien smiled against him as he slipped his hand underneath all that hair and held onto the base of Tamlin’s neck. 

Tamlin grabbed a fistful of pretty red hair, desperately needing something to hold onto, to anchor himself. Biting down on Lucien’s bottom lip, then sucking the flesh. 

As his skin grew hotter and hotter he felt something hard pressing against his own growing bulge. Tamlin moaned as he started grinding his covered cock against Lucien’s. Making the younger hiss as he held Tanlin tighter, pushing them harder together.

They pulled back enough that both could catch a breath, Tamlin breathed out, half-dazed and barely able to form a coherent thought except for one, “Fuck me.”

“Fuck yes.” Lucien said quickly. 

“Get. Out.” Tamlin and Lucien were quickly torn from their lust induced trance as they snapped their gaze around to see Laurel glaring so horribly at them. 

Tamlin was half about to ignore her, when Lucien grabbed the back of his thighs, and lifted him off the chair as he stood. Tamlin quickly wrapped his arms around the back of his neck, and Lucien shouted an apology as they both stumbled out to the entrance. 

Lucien was strong, strong enough to give Tamlin a good fight, and it seemed he had only gotten stronger. Of course, Tamlin also knew he was a lot lighter, having been living off of scraps every couple of days for two years. 

Getting out into the darkness, the warmth of Summer was sticky all around them, despite the sun having gone down at least an hour ago. 

Tamlin grabbed Lucien’s hair, kissing him sloppily as they both grinded and panted against each other, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Lucien forced his mouth away and stared up with glazed eyes. For a moment, their spinning worlds came to a sudden stop as they looked into each other and for the first time in a lot longer than just two years, they truly saw into the other. Saw them for who they were and every broken piece underneath. 

Tamlin cupped Lucien’s face with both his hands, at the same time Lucien squeezed his thighs harder. 

In that second, in that moment of stillness, Tamlin realised one thing. 

They had seen each other at their absolute worst. Broken, destroyed, taken apart and forced to keep going. They had scraped through life by each other’s side for so long. The bond they had ran deeper than just the friendship they showed. It was a deep understanding of what the other had been through, something that no one else in their life understood. Something they all never would. 

But they knew. In their small world, Tamlin and Lucien knew. Better than anyone else ever could. 

“I’m sorry.” Tamlin whispered, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“I know.” Lucien whispered back, before pressing such a sweet and gentle kiss to his lips. 

In a second, they were in Summer, and the next rich smells and charged air were filling Tamlin’s lungs once more as they winnowed to Day. 

Their lips crashed together once more. And Tamlin moaned as Lucien gently set him down on the floor again. Immediately their hands started roaming, desperate to get underneath each other’s layers. 

As Tamlin tried to pull Lucien’s shirt off, considering simply ripping it. Lucien grabbed both his wrists and held them together as he dragged him back into his bedroom. 

Tamlin barely got time to look around. Just noticing the blinds were thrown open, the doors to a balcony open, allowing in the soft night breeze. The bed was covered in a myriad of soft pillows, red and gold silks. Then Lucien was shoving him back onto the bed. Tamlin pulled his wrists free, but Lucien crawled up after him, as Tamlin pulled himself back, until he was amongst the pillows. 

Lucien pushed himself on top of Tamlin. Both thighs bracketed around his own. The Heir of Day, then grabbed both Tamlin’s wrists and pinned them above his head. Tamlin squirmed at the restraint but Lucien whispered, “Be a good boy and stay still.”

“Fuck, Lucien-”

“Wanna get fucked tonight?” He asked with a cruel tint to his voice, “Stay still.”

Tamlin huffed, blowing out his cheeks, but obeying and keeping his hands above his head. Lucien smiled, looking down at Tamlin like he was proud, “Good boy.”

“Fuck,” Tamlin said, whole body turning red as arousal shot through his body like poison. 

Lucien’s hands left Tamlin’s, and the area was left feeling cold, which Tamlin fought to not whine over. Before his attention was quickly captured by something else. 

Lucien’s hands went to his belt, quickly undoing it and pulling out the leather. Then he leaned back over Tamlin and grabbed his wrists once more. In a few seconds, he skillfully locked Tamlin’s wrists together. Tamlin couldn’t help the whine that left his throat when he felt the leather tighten on his skin. 

“Good boy.” Lucien whispered again, sitting back as he looked down at Tamlin. Restrained, flushed and panting. 

“Are you just going to sit there all night?” Tamlin taunted, “Or are you going to do  something?”

Lucien laughed, “Oh really? You want me to do something Tam?”

Frustration welled in Tamlin’s chest and at the same time his heart leapt at the familiarity in the nickname, “Yes, god, please.”

A grin curled on Lucien’s face as he then snapped his fingers, and in a second the rumpled dishevelled clothes plastered to Tamlin’s skin were reduced to ash from flames. It didn’t hurt in the slightest, only a light tingle of sudden warmth danced across his body. 

Now completely open and exposed to the midnight chill. Tamlin’s skin prickled, as his nipples began to ache from lack of attention, and at the same time blood rushed down and his cock began to throb in time with his heartbeat. Even still, he tried to not move as Lucien observed him. 

Amber eyes dark in the minimal light. Lucien slid his tongue over his lips before he moved one hand up. His fingers circling Tamlin’s left nipple, making Tamlin squeeze his eyes shut, and bite down on his tongue. 

“So pretty,” Lucien breathed, as those damning fingers pinched the bud. Rolling it gently. 

Tamlin couldn’t stop as his back arched. Eyes rolling back at receiving the attention he so desperately craved, he moaned as his mouth fell open. 

“And responsive.” Lucien noted, watching like a predator. 

“Fucking… Mother dammit.” Tamlin managed to say, even as he was losing himself to each and every touch. 

All of a sudden, Lucien took away his hand and it took Tamlin biting his inner cheek hard enough he nearly drew blood to not whine. 

“Alright, I’ve had my fun, I’ll fuck you now.” Lucien announced as he reached over to a nearby nightstand. 

“Finally.” Tamlin said, head pushing back into the pillow behind him. 

Lucien opened the first drawer, and reached in, pulling out a clear glass cork top bottle of thick oil. He moved and sat back on his heels as he easily opened the bottle. 

“Spread your legs,” He ordered as he poured out the thick liquid onto his fingers. 

Tamlin was quick to obey this time. Watching with poorly contained excitement as Lucien put the bottle back on the nightstand and slipped his fingers between his open thighs. Pressing one digit against his hole, Tamlin sucked in a harsh breath that followed Lucien murmuring, “Good boy, you’re doing so well.”

Tamlin cursed under his breath again, body beginning to throb as fire climbed higher and higher in his core. Lucien pushed his finger in further, gently exploring, as Tamlin wrapped his legs around his waist. Needing to hold onto him in some way. 

Clicking his tongue in disapproval, Lucien grabbed one of his thighs and forcefully spread his legs open, keeping them wide set as he smoothly thrusted his finger in and out. 

“You can take a little more.” Lucien whispered into the darkness between them. The words were nearly lost to Tamlin, his mind altered by pleasure and alcohol. 

Lucien pressed another finger inside, working it in slowly, until he was thrusting his two fingers in and out. Followed by three, working quicker and quicker as his own desperation built. 

Tamlin was a moaning mess below him, gasping for breath, and moving his hips as Lucien spread his fingers, the searing stretch making his hips jut up and his back arch. 

“Fuck, Lucien.” Tamlin moaned. 

“So fucking tight.” Lucien mumbled, seemingly lost in a daze, Tamlin didn’t know whether he was talking to him or to himself. 

Either way, Tamlin felt himself go redder as that fire built. Then Lucien twisted and curled his fingers and brushed some spot inside him that made his toes curl as he cried out. Pulling at his restraints, he bucked back against Lucien’s fingers, desperate for him to hit that spot again. 

Leaning down over him, Lucien pressed his lips to Tamlin’s. The blond males/’s eyes went wide, his tension causing Lucien to quickly back track, but before he could get too far away. Tamlin wrapped his arms around his neck and crashed their lips together again. Laughing into his mouth, Lucien snaked the hand not fingering Tamlin open, around to the back of his neck. Holding onto him tightly. 

Eventually Tamlin got impatient. As they pulled away to gasp for breath, a string of saliva connecting their lips, he said, “Hurry up.”

Lucien, dazed, flushed and panting, just nodded. Falling to the same need crashing over them. Pleasure pulsed in hot waves through both their bodies, rolling through their cores as Lucien finally dragged his trousers over his hips. Grabbing both of Tamlin’s knees he pushed them up until he was able to push the tip of his hard, weeping cock to the High lord’s slickened entrance. 

The red head crashed over Tamlin again, kissing him desperately as he sank in. Wrapped in each other, limbs like knots. Kissing, sucking and moaning. Tamlin arched up, and Lucien wrapped his arms around his back, pressing them together. Sliding in until he bottomed out. They remained still for a moment, catching their breath as Tamlin adjusted to the feel. 

His chest rising and falling rapidly, Tamlin felt the strands of Lucien’s scarlet hair tickle his throat as he looked up. Opening his green eyes, Tamlin looked up to see Lucien not looking down at him but rather at the open window. 

“What are you-” Tamlin turned his head, and his breath hitched as his eyes went wide. 

The balstrode, the doors, climbing into the room like roots stretching out, where dozens of vines of bleeding hearts, flowering pink. Tamlin looked back up at Lucien who had turned to stare at him. 

Something wet like warm rain fell down the side of his eye and soaked the sheets below. Lucien whispered something that may have been his name but Tamlin couldn’t hear it properly to know. He just knew that the red head leaned down and pressed their lips together. This kiss wasn’t frantic or heady. Steady and chaste. Though setting his body as fire just as much, if not more. 

No words were spoken, Tamlin was glad for it, if he did speak he might break from the thick emotion surrounding them. Clouding his thoughts till they were a jumbled mess of memories and guilt. 

He wanted to just.. Float away from his body forever. 

Lucien seemed to think something similar, he didn’t even try to open his mouth to talk. But he did press another kiss to his lips. Then to his cheek, then down his neck. 

He pulled out just to the tip, then sank back in again. And all at once Tamlin was lost to bliss. 

The sun woke him up, warm and rich like golden syrup. It spread over his skin, casting him in the glow. Tamlin blinked against the rays. Shifting slightly as he tucked his foot back under the covers, freezing from being out. He sighed in content into the mass of chest his face was buried in. His arms around Lucien’s waist, and his around Tamlin’s back. 

Head rolling back, Tamlin started to untangle their legs carefully to stretch out the sore muscles. In the jostling somewhere, Lucien awoke. Tamlin watched as the male slowly came back to consciousness, amber eyes dimmed from sleep but growing brighter as the sun came up. The gold turning to something like liquid sunlight. Tamlin half smiled at the sight, for a moment basking in the glory of waking up like this. No matter how dirty the sheets were and how messy their skin was. This didn’t compare to anything. 

“Morning.” Tamlin rasped, his throat a little sore. All at once a headache popped in his skull and he groaned. It wasn’t too bad, but enough that he wanted a tonic for it. 

“Morning.” Lucien repeated. Pulling himself away from Tamlin, who nearly whined at the loss. 

Sitting up on the bed, propping himself against the headboard, Lucien looked down at Tamlin, “We going to talk about this?”

“What’s there to talk about?” Tamlin replied, half-dismissively. 

Lucien just raised an eyebrow and Tamlin folded. 

“I don’t want to lose you.” The golden male admitted, “it’s been torment not having you there at all.”

“You never lost me, Tam.” Lucien told him, “Never.”

“I fucked us up though.” He said. 

Luien shrugged, “A lot of what happened was circumstance and… other’s actions. But yeah, you did fuck a lot up.”

They sat in silence for a moment, Tamlin asked, “What do I need to do to get you back?”

Lucien smiled at the sheets over his lap, “Look at us Tam, you have me back.”

“I don’t deserve it though.”

“We both don’t deserve a lot. Besides,” Lucien looked over to the High lord, “You’ve more than paid the price. What other rock bottom could I ask you to hit?”

Shuffling up, Tamlin leaned against the headboard. Staring at the opposite wall. 

“There’s a lot of shit both of us need to deal with, Tam. We don’t have to get it all done in one morning.” Lucien reminded him. 

“I wish we could. I wish I could.” He whispered. 

Lucien reached out, his fingers brushing over Tamlin’s knuckles, before tangling their fingers together, “But we can’t, so we'll take it all one step at a time.”

Tamlin closed his eyes as he smiled, “One step at a time.”

Lucien hummed and rested his head on Tamlin’s shoulder. 

In that sacred, holy moment, something heavy and hateful just seemed to… disappear. Like all it took to get rid of it was the words they exchanged. 

Tamlin knew it was deeper than that. That last night they had reverted back to who they were before all this, just for a moment. He knew more than anyone they couldn’t live off that high forever. He had tried that with Feyre, and now look where it got him. 

His free hand moved to gently thread through waves of crimson. 

He’d take advantage of this, they’d both been living off of the high of pleasure for far too long. Now they would build something stronger than ever before, something that would withstand the test of time, magical bonds, evil Queen and Kings. 

They’d make something built off of love. Not from hedonistic highs.

“Bleeding hearts right?” Lucien murmured. 

“Hm?” Tamlin questioned, then Lucien pointed him once more in the direction of those flowering plants. 

Tamlin groaned and flopped down, causing Lucien to fall atop him. They both laughed suddenly. Lucien giggled, burying his face into Tamlin’s shoulder. 

Tamlin threw an arm over his eyes so he didn’t have to look at Lucien’s face. 

“What do they mean again?” Lucien mockingly questioned, “Wasn’t it… passionate love, and romance?”

Tamlin rolled his eyes, but moved them so Lucien’s head was laying on his bicep. And Tamlin’s fingers threaded through his hair once more, “Yes, and it can mean unrequited love and a broken heart.”

Lucien’s teasing smirk faded away into something like awe, his eyes beginning to line with tears. Tamlin smiled softly, his thumb reaching out to brush them away from his eyes. 

His fingers shinny with the drops, Tamlin held his hand between them, and whispered, “Then there’s camellias for love, adoration, longing, devotion and care.”

As he whispered the words, a pretty, perfect, pink camellia flower grew from the palm of his hand. Lucien’s eyes went wide with wonder, once again filling with tears that dripped down his face and onto the petals of the new bloom. 

Tamlin leaned over and brushed a kiss to his forehead, “I will try, I promise.”

“I love you.” Lucien whispered. 

“I love you.” Tamlin whispered back. As Lucien wrapped his hands around Tamlin’s holding the camellia and pressed their mouth together. 

Like young blooms in spring, unfurling the cold, misty mornings. Something rich and golden. Filled with immeasurable hedonistic pleasure, filled them both to the brim, spilling over like the wine of a glass. It ran over them like roots and vines held desperately to what they clung too. Like new plants finding their way into life. 

A perfect melding of hearts intertwined. Heavy, rich and luscious, with young, airy and abloom. 

Something so opposite, yet sliding together so easily. 

The mating bond did not ‘snap’ as the many stories went. It bloomed. 

@tamlinweek

[mulberryasher]

[Fanservant]

Huitzilopochtli

Huitzilopochtli

Japanese Name: ウィツィロポチトリ

Class: Saber

Rarity: SSR: ★★★★★

AKA: Hummingbird, Eagle, Fake Blue Tezcatlipoca, Fake Grand Saber, True Sun of Mexica

Stats: ATK: 12,831 Lv.100 Grail ATK: 14,047 HP: 14,531 Lv.100 Grail HP: 15,920

Personal Skills:

First Skill: Fifth Sun: A

Grants self-guts status for 1 times 3 turns. Increase the party’s attack for 3 turns. Increases party's critical damage for 3 turns. Charge party’s NP gauge. Grants party Invincibility Buff Block for 1 time, 3 turns. Removed the buff and changed to reduce their defense for 3 turns.

Second Skill: Tezcatl eye: EX

Increase own NP damage and critical damage for 3 turn. Charge own NP gauge and gain critical stars. Ignore Invincibility for one turn and Grant's self-invincibility for 3 attacks, 3 turns.

Third Skill: Solar: A

Increases own Buster performance for 3 turns. Increases own Arts performance for 3 turns. Reduces their defense for 3 turns. Increases own attack for 3 turns. Increases own damage against Divinity enemies for 3 turns.

Class skills:

Magic Resistance: A

Territory Creation: EX

Divine Sun: A

Appreciation of Weapons: A

Parameter:

Strength: EX

Endurance: A

Agility: EX

Mana: EX

Luck: B+

NP: EX

PROFILE

Default:

It was the most powerful deitiy, without a doubt, within the Aztec world. He was born as an undefeated, ruthless warrior on the battlefield, bloodthirsty and bloodshed field, sun and rules, rising sun to the bright sun; when the Aztecs were at war, he was the protector or sacrificed to protect the people as the god of warrior, people believe the incarnation of the sun and replace Nanahuatzin, the sun god from the Aztec Mythology.

Although Hulitzilopochtli would be best suited for the Berserker class, yet was summoned as a pseudo-servant and Saber class.

Bond 1:

Height/Weight: 188cm/80kg

Origin: Aztec Mythology

Region: Latin America, Mexica, Mexico

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Gender: Male

“All I wanted was to protect the people, but I did not. I didn’t want to be a hero or warrior. I wanted to live warmly with my siblings and people.”

A deity known as the god of warrior is considered the god of sun and incarnation of the sun. He was also the patron god of the Aztecs and the capital city of Tenochtitlan. He wielded a weapon called Xiuhcoatl, the fire serpent, and used different weapons in his arsenal during the war field. People believed that they needed human sacrifice to strengthen their efforts.

Bond 2:

Personality

Extroverted, calm yet vibe older brother.

He is a bloodthirsty warrior, aggressive to a fault yet self-sacrificed to defend his people. Until he manifested a body, his host influenced his mind more. He is becoming a lovely older brother and extroverted. His host has a mindset as a mage, and martial arts influence his critical thinking and strategy. He does not hesitate or doesn't think about himself and only thinks he protects others. He is like a big brother who lectures to others or is playful with a smile. During the battle, he is more calm and collective. He is quite a gentleman, and caring comes to others.

He gives off as someone who is enjoying his retirement. When it comes to his routine, it is frightening. He woke up very early to practice for the taijutsu basics, then practiced his magecraft, which involved materializing objects and familiarizing all varieties of weapons.

Bond 3:

As he was defined as the most powerful and honored deity on Earth within the Aztec world, other Aztec deities feared his existence and, at some point, tried to kill him. In the myths, he was a minor hunting god of the Mexica. He is the deity who guided the Mexuca people to the Valley of Mexico from their previous home. He commanded the building of a city known as Tenochtitlan, which became the capital of the Aztec Empire. Then was worshipped as the god of the sun and became the fifth sun. When the Aztecs established their new environment and quickly replaced a Tonatiuh, the sun god, Aztecs believed their worship involved human sacrifice to be his strength effort not only that they also sacrificed the warriors who died in battle.

In the earliest origin myths of Huitzilopochtli, he is described as the fourth and final son of Ometecuhtli and Omecihuatl. During the first 600 years of his life, Huitzilopochtli was born without flesh, but only a bone, and remained fleshless. Huitzilopochtli and his brothers created the world and its laws after 600 years had passed following the events that took place 600 years before. There is a version of that Coatlicue that saw hummingbird feathers fall from the sky. When she picked up, she became pregnant with Huitzilopochtil. In some versions, he protects his mother or avenges the murder of his mother against Couolzauhqui and defeats his siblings, Centzonhuītznāhua.

Bond 4:

Fifth Sun: A

He replaces Nanahuatzin as the new sun of the Aztecs.

Tezcatl Eye: EX

An ability that is the eye is like a second mana cord with magic circuits out of the body. There is clairvoyance and kinetic eyesight, which is gained to see things other than average, like seeing the inner energy of the life of all nonliving and living creatures. Can predict and know the opponent slowly. This can copy other mage’s magecraft and memorizing. There is a second phase of this eye, which can evolve and change the shape of the eye’s user, and it can use all the elements to control the opponent physically and mentally. The last ability is unique and exclusive to a person. Is still unknown of his ability because he didn’t use it during the time when he was summoned. Currently uses half the power of the Tezcatl Eye. Tezcatl Eye is only passed down to the Morarseu Clan. An unknown clan or a hidden clan was unknowingly destroyed in 1994—no record about the hidden clan, only the death of the people, and don’t know if their any survivors in the timelines of Fate/Stay Night series or Fate/Grand Order from any organization.

Solar: A

Using his own mana core connects the earth's planet to the solar sun.

Bond 5:

『Xiuhcoatl Moraresu』

Rank: EX

NP Type: Anti-Army Noble Phantasm

Range: 30-40

Maximum Targets: 100 people

Sol Blade Creation

A Noble Phantasm that creates an unlimited variety of weapons and changes the Planet field as wildfire. The place is a unique marble phantasm, sent back to the Aztec War period from the fallen wildfire field with ruined temples of the Tenochtitlan field of different weapons. He connects to the planet Earth and connects his imagination or views as his sword is morphed into a materialization. Mini energy of weapons provided by thearthet went toward his sword to complete his sword, revealing his blade in his hands. A single swing of his sword can cut the law of physics.

The blade’s name: is Xiuhcoatl Moraresu. Xiuhcoatl was a mythological serpent as a spirit form of Xiuhtecuhli. Become a weapon wielded by Huitzilopochtli. Xiuhcoatl is called a symbolic and descriptive of “fire serpent.” Xiuhcoatl is interpreted as the embodiment of the dry season and was the weapon of the sun. Moraresu is the surname of the host. It represents Huitzilopochtli using his magecraft called Atom magecraft to help his divine to create Marble Phantasm. Also, Moraresu is half-Japanese and used his influence mindset and knowledge of modern. To know Xiuhtecuhli's kind of weapon would then materialize it as a twist-shaped katana.

“As this sun fades away to become the blade who reaches this inner world. I used many weapons on this bloody battlefield, I will create the blade that I desire. Ahora ven a mí mi Xiuhcoatl Moraresu!”

Identity:

Huitzilopochtli, is a Saber Class Pseudo Servant summoned by Yukari Akiwara. He confirmed himself as a Servant and not a Grand Servant in my OC timelines of Grand/Order. Later on, Ritsuka Fujimaru of Chaldea was summoned as a still Saber.

Huitzilopochtli is a eagle deity. He was the tribal god of the Aztec people, known both as a war god and as the incarnation of the sun. The Aztecs worshipped Huitzilopochtli as the sun, causing many deaths and human sacrifices. Guided by Huizlipochtil, the Aztecs quickly largely replaced a Tonatiuh temple around the capital city of Tenochtitlan. Huitziopochtli defeated many deities in the Aztec world.

He is the final and youngest sibling and is known as the loyal and ruthless god of war, yet some myths are out of character, as he wants to protect the people or his mother. Many Divine Spirits are represented as Huitzilopochtli uses his divinity power like Tenochtitlan, the dinosaur king, and Tezcatlipoca. At some point, an aspect of him is known as Blue Tezcatlipocas from Tezcatlipoca. Can’t be summoned fully self as the god of the sun. The Servant Huitzilopochtli is a Pseudo-Servant but summoned with a human vessel named Moraresu Isamu (モラレスイサム) and also Saint Graphs identity as the god of warriors before he was known as the god of sun.

Dialogue

Summoned:

"Are you the Master? I'm Huitzilopochtli, the god of warriors. My class is Saber as a Psudeo-Servant. Let get along well, right, Master."

Summoned (Clear Shatterzone 7):

"Saber, Huitzilopochtli. Well well well, this is interesting. It looks like I'm on your side now, and I hope we get along. I will serve you as my Master."

Relationship:

Cuauhtémoc (OC):

“Cuauhtémoc is some what unique when we hangout. The first time was pretty funny. When I saw her, she gave off a vibe of an elegant lady but she was a fan girl when it come around me. I didn’t expect that from her."

MORARSEU (Caster)(OC):

“Well, well, their another person named MORARSEU. Perhaps he may have known my vessel?”

Tezcatlipoca:

"Big bro, how are you doing? Doing well after calling me the fake Huitzilopochtli and fake Grand Saber and then already giving me the nickname Eaglet. It was a bit disappointing. I thought you could change it a bit. But still, you are my older brother and still my family. I hope this time we spend our time as a family, big bro.

Quetzalcoatl:

“So you also summoned as a pseudo-servant, but why? I will just let this slide because you are you. I hope there is no fight between you and Big Bro. What now? Should I call you sister? Huh, Oneechan, then.”

Kukulkan:

“Huh? Kukulkan from the Mayan deity? This is confusing. She is a different Kukulkan than I know. So she is the sun from the lostbelt. Interesting, a new god and a new sun are rising. A new of myamily…Do you want to know if I would win against ORT-Kukulkan as my Saber Class?...... Nah, I’d Win.”

Tenochtitlan:

“So she is the embodiment of the city from Tenochtitlan. Que linda pequeña hermanita that I have. I hope we will have fun and go around the place. Master… Since I was summoned and here, you would not be alone with mi pequeña hermanita.”

Ozymandias:

“So that guy is known as king of God and the sun….I do respect him and did well as a ruler but I don’t need to worry about him.”

Senji Muramasa:

“Isn’t that one of the well-known blacksmiths, too? His blade is full of power and the will of the flame, but I can still block with my hands. Hehe.”

Karna:

“So he is Karna the son of the sun god. He should relied on other than his spear. He could join me in my routine.”

Miyamoto Musashi (LOST DATA):

“You tell me Muasahi from Alternate universe. She is completely different from I know. She is simple to get along with, and during sparring, she has indeed lived up to the title of the greatest swordmaster, but still, the Musashi I know can really make me not hold back. Maybe she can also join me in my routine with other servants.”

Miyamoto Musashi (OC):

“We finally met in Chaldea. Do you want to catch up or use the blade of our world like the old time with our previous Master?”

(He is the proper human history version and Saber Class. They were summoned by a Master named Yukari Akiwara before Ritsuka Fujimaru. That is how they met the first time.)

Cynthia:

“You also here, too? I guess Yukari’s team is back. Don’t lie to me again or use me for money making.”

(She is a pretender and the goddess of the moon from Greek mythology, as Selene is the goddess of the moon. She is also often identified as Artemis, the goddess of hunting. Her true names are Selene and Cythina, and Cythina is from the Sextus Propertius and the four bok of Elegis. She was summoned with Musashi, Huitzilopochtli with her previous Master. The funny part is that Cythina and her Master lied to him to materialize his physical form to help them with an event. But Huitzilopochtli was working as the butler then earning some quick cash because of his popularity.)

Iori Muuasahi:

“Well, we finally met, so tell me, how was your old man back when you were young? I bet it was hard to get along at first, right, or it was only me.”

Gorō Nyūdō Masamune (OC):

“That blacksmith.. I don’t know I feel he is a rival. He gives off a dangerous vibe when we sparring. Perhaps it is him or his host. Who knows, but still, he is a friendly great-grandpa.”

Celeste (OC):

“That girl, she oddly very friendly to me? What did I do to earn her trust? This is the first time I ever met her.”

(She is a rider class servant. She is the daughter of Andromeda from Greek myths and she is lostdata. She is from an alternate universe or maybe a distant future whose timeline is unknown. Her personality is similar to her mother's, but she doesn’t reveal who her father is.)

Asahina Gozen (OC):

"Gozen, I know them. Isn't he the one who defeats Masamune during the Shatterzone 5? I would love to see that battle. I bet the great-grandpa was in a cage and selling as a slave, Right....uhhhhu RIGHT?"

(Asahina Gozen is a lostbelt or a different version of Asahina Yoshihide and a Saber Class. He is from the Yōsei Nihon and a half-Yōsei who is from a clan of ōni. He is the strongest Yōsei Samurai in Yōsei Nihon. This version has the memory of his pan-human history and also adopted by the ruler of Yōsei Nihon named Umiko Hizumi)

Fusō (OC):

"Wow, isn't she the tyrant queen of Yōsei Nihon? No, it is her younger version, known as Fusō the Saviour and Fusō the Witch. I don't know but I have a bad vibe from her is not of her personlity but it her mana. Maybe she can also use marble phantasm.

(Fusō is a Caster class and lostbelt of Umiko Hizumi. An unknown person that has no record in the historical records but somehow connects to the Throne of Heroes. Her purpose is to cast the Wold's Mana in the Yōsei Nihon. Like her future adopted son, she also received memories in different way of Pan-Human History Umiko Hizumi. Fusō was the Inner Sea of the Plaent of her purpose. Hizumi is an older sister of the "Creation of Magecraft" lost in the record and Hizumi is a woman of selfish witch that wants to rule humanity in her own way)

Something you Like:

"Something I like is quite simple: my family, my people, and others who support me, like you, Master."

Something you Hate:

"What do I hate? I don’t really know. I know there are many things I can hate, like misunderstandings and my siblings, but I can’t hate them."

About the Holy Grail:

"You mean that energy supply? I’m not really that interested. I just want to focus on the extra time in Chaldea and also want to spend with my brother and sisters."

[coolbeesbro]

TGOFC Kallamar Lore

Out of all the siblings, Kallamar feels the most like he constantly has to prove himself. He started off as a major "yes man" when it came to Shamura, doing everything to constantly seek out their approval. He was never really a fighter, but he learned everything he knows about that, as well as having extensive knowledge on weaponry all to impress Shamura and get their approval. So he can fight and wield multiple weapons at one time with ease, but would rather avoid having to all together if he can. Despite this, he's often pretty overlooked in lieu of the younger siblings. This isn't to say that Shamura dislikes or has ill intentions towards Kallamar, but more sees it as Kallamar is old enough and very capable of taking care of himself, whereas Narinder, Heket and Leshy were all very young gods in need of guidance (Shamura tries their best to do this, but they were never very nurturing to begin with so they often fall short in some areas).

Continuing off that last part, Kallamar was always there to help take care of them and make up for the areas Shamura is unable to provide. I did an animatic a little bit ago involving this fact (here), but he's always had a more empathetic and emotional connection with the youngest three. As the others grew up, they also fell into a similar state that Kallamar did with wanting to prove themself to the eldest; and Kallamar feels like it's partly his own fault for setting that example to begin with.

Although he's wildly respected in Anchordeep, he got his reputation as a coward for being fearful of death himself thanks to the prior god of Death. There's more going into that than the youngest three understand, being more PTSD related than anything else. In TGOFC canon, his fear of the Red Crown stems from The Great God War, which was a series of battles over the span of decades against the old god of Death, Corvius, who used his ability to revive to pull in followers from other faiths. Corvius also sent out his own followers to pillage other's territories, and without followers and devotion, a god would eventually die and their crown would vanish for good. Eventually, the number of crowns was narrowed down to 5 before Shamura was finally able to kill Corvius. In the whole war, Kallamar came very closely to death on many occasions. But despite his fear of the Red Crown, he still did what he could to take care of Narinder (in part hoping that being raised to be more empathetic and caring would prevent a repeat of The Great God War). Although Narinder was a civilian victim in the war at the time, he could never really relate to the fear Kallamar had because of their differing status.

One of the ways he aimed to get Shamura's approval, he used his background in medicine thanks to the Blue Crown to work towards HRT treatments. This proved to be very successful in a number of ways. Shamura grew to be a happier person and was very grateful towards the gesture, that being something they'd never considered to be a thing prior. Then there was the huge boost in followers and moral in Anchordeep for any other trans person seeking that treatment. He went on to learn more about gender affirming care which only grew his following. This later down the line helped with treatments and surgery for Leshy when he joined and got older.

After many years in purgatory, he's also fearful to go back to his temple. That doesn't mean he doesn't miss it and want to go back eventually. But for the time being, if there's anything he needs there, he's often able to convince the Lamb to retrieve it for him.

This post is getting very long so I might do a part 2 with much less sad parts in a little bit.

[splatixboi]

My brainrot over it is driving me crazy, so I will now be rambling about my Honkai Star Rail x Hualian AU. I haven’t been able to discuss it with anyone because I’ve got no friends who are TGCF mains, who also enjoy HSR & know a decent amount of lore…

(If you are that person and are 18+, then please please please please let me spill the contents of my overfilled brain in your presence, thank you. I need more friends… especially ones who like TGCF.)

Anyways, time to let my rambling begin. For now I’ll talk about Hualian and relevant info about them, the plot I have in mind is still being sorted out.

Their lives take place on the Xianzhou Luofu, and the plot starts when they’re young childhood friends, around 100 years or so before the present (in game.)

Hua Cheng and Xie Lian are both from the Vidyadhara race, though they’re drastically different. Hua Cheng isn’t as pure in blood, thus he resembles the various npcs with pointed ears you see walking around the Luofu. No horns, no tail, and no important social status. Xie Lian on the other hand, is more pure in blood. (this may be going slightly against canon hsr lore, since I’m pretty sure only those chosen as successors for the High Elder position can have a tail and horns. I think that’s silly though, so in this AU horns and tail can exist on Vidyadhara who aren’t the High Elder, it’s just rare to find one. They merely lack the power which is strictly for the High Elder position.) Xie Lian is a rarity among Vidyadhara as he has horns and a tail, thus he was held in high regard even in his past reincarnation. He has no interest in learning about his past self though, and was adamant about it ever since he could express it after hatching from his shell.

I am still debating where to place the “present day” plot. I’m not sure if I’d like to have everything occur before the Stellaron burst, or have it occur during and after. Most of my plot takes place in the present, as the past is for showing the childhood friendship between Hualian prior to Hua Cheng’s mysterious disappearance.

Now, for their paths, elements, and affiliations.

Hua Cheng:

• Path of The Destruction / Quantum / Stellaron Hunter

Xie Lian:

• Path of The Erudition / Imaginary / Judge in the Ten-Lords Commission

As for their weapons, Xie Lian will normally wield a sword which I will design based off Fang Xin’s manhua look. Ruoye will exist, I am just trying to figure out how to make Ruoye fit in.

E-Ming exists as well, and I DO have lore for it, thanks to the latest patch in hsr. E-Ming is a Heliobus that Hua Cheng encountered outside the Luofu, it took the form of a Scimitar. It approached Hua Cheng with a singular wish, to be wielded and used as a mighty weapon by a capable swordsman. Hua Cheng is not a fool, however, and knows that the Heliobi are parasitic in nature… at least, the ones he heard about on the Luofu were. In exchange for wielding E-Ming as his weapon, the Heliobus must agree to be bound to him permanently, and sealed in a way where it was under his control, not vice versa. Thus it explains how Hua Cheng lost the red eye he loathed so much. E-Ming was sealed within the eye Hua Cheng tore from himself, and with the blood he had spilled, E-Ming was then bound to him. E-Ming had no issue with this though, as it had not been exposed to human emotions and remained an innocent being. (This is me just taking the fact that a Heliobus can be sealed inside someone (HuoHuo) and running with the idea to make it fit Hua Cheng.)

That is all I shall share for now, forgive the fact that this is all kinda unorganized…

[liamthemailman]

♠️♥️House of Cards♣️♦️

♠️Ace of Spades♠️

Lieutenant 'Ace' Doe's Bio

- Information -

Name : [N/A] Doe

Codename : Ace

Former Alias : Mad Dog

Status : Alive

Rank : Lieutenant

Citizenship : [N/A]

Feeling Lucky Tonight?

- Physical Profile -

Height: 5'5 feet

Gender : Masc [he/him]

Age : 30 years old

Blood type: B Pos

Eye color: Brown

Hair color: Dark brown

Scars : None

Additional Notes : Overdue for haircut

- Personality -

Ace, like many others, is a very complex person. He seems to lack emotion, but he doesn't refrain from showing his displeasure in his face. It's no surprise to say that he is an introvert.

On the field however, Ace is a natural-born leader with a powerful voice, almost equal to the bark of a dog. He is quick to take initiative and on many occasions makes risky gambles with his life.

Ace is a no nonsense person at work, speaking without caring if the nature of his words may hurt the receiver. He sees no point in sugarcoating, especially when a proper talking to is in order. In any other situation, Ace is eerily silent, not speaking when it's not needed.

Although as unapproachable as Ace seems, he is the polar opposite - if you catch him outside of work. Ace is a warm person, willingly open for a friendly chat or to share a smoke. Ace has many mixed feelings from those around him.

- Skill Set -

Weapon(s) : Ace has a preference for close range guns, often dual wielding guns. He also keeps multiple knives on his person, most of them hidden.

Combat Style : Ace usually sticks to closer range guns. Ace is good with close combat, being very nimble and agile but not very effective against going against enemies in several weight classes above him.

Specialized skill : Ace is able to breach and override through any security systems and can intercept enemy comms, rigs of explosives and traps that use electronic signal triggers.

- Background -

[Redacted] left home to join the army as soon as he could. His parents were against his dream, his weak hearted mother citing that he was their only son, and his father not believing that he could make it in the army. [Redacted] argued back, protesting his parents' concern. A huge verbal fight broke out where his father declared that [Redacted] was no longer family to him. His father, still enraged, demanded [Redacted] to drop his family name and to never return if he were to step out the house to go to the army.

So [Redacted] did, taking up the last name Doe as a placeholder. It's been years, and [Redacted] still writes back home, but he never gets any letters back.

[Redacted] got the nickname Mad Dog not long after joining. Mad Dog was less of a callsign, more of a tease with how he used to behave. Mad Dog used to be a loudmouth that talked back to his superiors, yelling his arguments and being reckless and near uncontrollable on the field. Mad Dog was compared to that of a dog barking madly, and thus, the name stuck.

Mad Dog met King while on a joint mission while he was still a Sergeant and the latter was still a Lieutenant. [Redacted] had impressed King with his skills, so much so that when King reached Captain, King specifically requested Second Lieutenant Mad Dog to be put into his Task Force Cards. Along with this shift, [Redacted] would officially take on the callsign Ace. Outside of work, King and Ace would share a smoke and the occasional trip to the bar, but Ace doesn't drink.

After King, Aces met with his wife, Lieutenant Queen. A woman that was a few ranks above himself. Ace quickly realized that he and Queen did not share any similar values. While Ace is always in some form of disagreement with Queen, he continues to mind himself, diligently working alongside her when the time calls for it. He may not be friendly with Queen, but he works well on the field with her, a silent truce formed on the battlefield.

Ace rose through the ranks quickly, soon finding himself in charge of other soldiers and overlooking training recruits. Private Jack stuck out to Ace like a sore thumb. Jack was the total opposite of him, but had the potential to thrive under proper guidance. Ace would then unofficially take Jack under his wing and eventually would recommend Jack to King to join the Task Force.

- Additional Information -

Ace wears his tinted eyewear both in and off the field. Ace found that people seemed to struggle to maintain eye contact with him in account for his Resting Bitch Face. Ace quickly learns that with the eyewear on, more people seemed more open to approaching him.

Ace unintentionally sneaks around. He swears up and down that he's not trying to purposefully scare anyone. Ace hates the sound of squeaky boots and walks with silent footsteps. As a result, in addition of going non-verbal a lot, Ace would seemingly show up from out of nowhere.

Ace can't seem to smile normally(?). Ace was told by a passing recruit that his smile doesn't seem to reach his eyes. This apparently made Ace look weird. Ace was sad upon hearing this but only nodded at the recruit in response.

- Favourites -

Drink: Earl Grey with one cream and two sugars

Food: Oranges

Animal: Cats

Hobby: Writing letters and journals, feeding the stray cats on base

Weather: Thunderstorm

Song: Aces - dkj

Colour: Dull colours

Flower: Baby's breath

Moodboard :

[edenfelled]

i want to be forgiven. i want to choke up chunks of my own sins—even if the sky cracks in mourning and the heavens just won't open up for me / gimme that Ryne thank you

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐅𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 in how it healed and harmed in turn. Ryne was not immune to it, her first wielding like a weapon, and she remembered the way Ran'jit's fist curled knuckle-white against her wrist while she screamed and clawed, bit and wailed.

❝I will never forgive you, I won't! Those sacrifices; all the girls lost! You can't keep me here, you can't stop me—❞

Her keeper had never been outrightly cruel, though she'd struggle to call him kind. To the ivory marble she was interred, caged between curtains of blood-red silk and his self-imposed ineptitude, barely twitching when she crashed against the stone.

❝A lesson, then, for the daughter of a dozen dead girls: Forgiveness is a balm used to soothe ghosts,❞ He told her, the steel grey of his eyes like twin shields to shelter him from the betrayal in hers. "I do not need yours."

He slammed the door closed before she could scramble to stop him, a child's fist of thirteen summers pounding against the wood until her screams subdued to sobbing, and the sobs in turn to muted whimpers in the endless light.

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐌 𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒. They didn't talk about their pasts much, and for that she was glad. There was something about explaining Minfilia that felt too much to say — too much, too little time, steepled in another place and another time. If Neku was the reaper then she was the tomb, a vestige for the hopes of innocents snuffed out before their time; a hundred-thousand prayers gathered lovingly in her hands.

She was the walking ghost, unforgivable in the belief her preservation might atone for the ones who came before her. Only in fighting did she understand what it might be like to exist on the other side of the door. In her eyes her keeper saw all of them, and her forgiveness mattered naught. He would never forgive himself.

❝It's okay, @psychreaped, you're all right—❞ She knew that self-same hysterical ramble, how anxiety paved the way to panic and unquenchable terror, and in the limpness of his hands did the Oracle cup his face as if trying to hold his senses. Ryne didn't need to know why he stiffened at certain sounds or avoided certain sights; she hated white walls and statues of dragons that looked too close to Gukumatz. They had their reasons, known or not, to seek forgiveness in the light of horror.

❝Whatever it is, whatever you did, we can get through it together. You're not without redemption, I promise.❞

But the ghosts were haunting and their screams were loud.

❝I'm here no matter what, okay? I'm here and I want to help you.❞ She thumbed his cheeks with the pads of her thumbs. ❝You're not unforgivable; you're not. You're a good person. Cross my heart.❞

And hope, in this instance, not to die.

[kemendin]

Whoops I’m thinking about Them (Cas and Scourge) again - namely the rapidly shifting power dynamics that go on during the class story.

So on the one hand, we have Caspian, an only above-average Jedi in terms of raw power, not overwhelming by any means. In most universes, he openly shies away from power. Here in SWTOR, he is wary of holding it over others, trying to use his role and abilities as responsibly as possible; he almost never employs ‘Jedi mind tricks’ and similar techniques, only overriding a person’s will if the benefits vastly outweigh the ethical question of doing so. He’s also immensely uncomfortable with anyone having power over him; for this reason he tends to rebel against authority figures (see: the Jedi Council), and calls out any instances of power abuse that he comes across.

And then we have Scourge. A man of immense power, both in his abilities and his status as the Emperor’s Wrath; a man who is clearly drawn to power and who has no qualms about using it for his own ends. A man who says that to be Sith is to break your own chains, in essence to use your own power to set yourself free of everyone and everything that would control you. And a man who willingly set all of that freedom aside, allowing himself to be bound to and controlled by his greatest enemy for three hundred years as he sought to fulfill the vision the Force had given him.

Cas’ six or so months in the Emperor’s Fortress are spent completely under Scourge’s power - there’s no denying that they are captive and captor. But Scourge is also actively - if carefully - encouraging Cas to not only resist, but to fight back against his control, and by extension against Vitiate’s. Vitiate wants Cas turned into a weapon - and in a way, so does Scourge, albeit with a different focus. And so he repeatedly pushes Cas into the path of power, slowly acclimating him into being more comfortable holding it, wielding it, because as far as Scourge is concerned, the Jedi he needs is one who can not only resist the Emperor’s power, but use their own - otherwise the two sides will only end up at a stalemate again.

And then comes Scourge’s actual betrayal of Vitiate, and the escape from the fortress, and the balance of power between Cas and Scourge is abruptly reversed. Once again, Scourge demonstrates that he has the absolute biggest balls around, and surrenders his existence to his enemy - only this time, it’s the Jedi. He has a small token of insurance in Cas, having spent six months subtly manipulating the poor guy into a shaky, intangible feeling of trust between them - but he knows that if it comes down to it, the Jedi Council is capable of dooming this entire plan, if he and Cas can’t make them understand how dire the situation is. Fortunately for Scourge, Cas’ faith in the Council is next to non-existent at this point - given the choice, Cas would far rather give the few fragments of his trust to the Sith who acted to rescue him from the fortress than the Jedi who sent him in there in the first place.

That being said, the situation with Scourge being part of the crew makes Cas deeply uncomfortable at first. While he can remember very little about what went on in the fortress, he knows Scourge was behind a lot of it, and this clashes almost constantly inside him with Scourge’s pledge of loyalty; not to mention his own confusion over the fact that however Sith Scourge might be, he never actually lies to Cas, never again tries to control him or turn him to the dark side. Whatever power Scourge held over him is, in essence, returned.

Moreover, Scourge clearly considers himself in service to Cas, just as he had served the Emperor, and Cas hates this dynamic. He hates that one of the most powerful Sith in the Empire is trotting along behind him like a servant, acquiescing to him, obeying him. So Cas is actually relieved, in a weird way, every time he and Scourge end up at odds, debating and disagreeing. Every time Scourge berates him for being merciful, or pushes him into acting instead of overthinking - it’s infuriating, but it feels better, because he’s reassured that while Scourge may ultimately be obeying Cas, he isn’t submitting to him.

This precarious relationship is why Cas and Scourge don’t really start bonding, start understanding each other, until after Cas dethrones the Emperor. Once Vitiate is defeated, they can finally be on a more even footing, neither of them holding power over the other. Scourge is no longer bound by his pledge of loyalty, and yet - with some persuasion from Cas - he decides to stay with this Jedi. They remain allies now not because they’re tied together with a fragile thread of shared purpose, but because they choose to do so. And that’s the only way this relationship can strengthen - through choice.

[tohwitchesduels]

REQUEST BATTLES OF WITCHES DUELS - Battle 47: Matt Tholomule vs Luz Noceda

Disclaimer: This is not a popularity contest or which character you prefer, in this tournament, you decide who is stronger/better/smarter/etc. opponent.

information for both opponents under the cut to those who don't know what they can do in their battle:

Matt Tholomule:

Mattholomule specializes mainly in construction and illusion magic.

Matt is known to be quite underestimated by those around him, but he does possess the skill, even if gloats to be able to bite more than he can chew. Matt is however pretty smart when it comes to the usage of his powers, even if he doesn't use them too offensively. He can however be pretty hopeless at times, being taken out easily if his opponents prove to be more formidable than him. He does lack drive and fighting spirit if he does not have confidence in his abilities.

Matt regained his confidence with his one win against Barcus so now he's willing to step back to the ring again.

Matt does not possess any known palisman, nor showcased any on the screen. Because of this anyone fighting him would also not be allowed to wield a palisman

Size alteration - Matt is capable of altering the size of any of his body parts. This displayed first during Covention with his head.

Construction Tool - Matt is capable of creating tools made out of earthen materials as displayed TTLGR when he created a key/blade to cut Gus free. This ability during battle can manifest as Matt is capable of creating any kind of tool or weapon to help him during the battle.

Geokinesis - Implied in TTLGR that Matt can telekinetically move earthen materials as displayed when he helped clean the graveyard by moving the broken parts of the statues placing them back and making them stick together. During the battle, Matt would be capable of throwing rubble at his opponents.

Rock Wall - as displayed in LR, Matt is capable of creating walls to block attacks. The walls are thin so can be broken through enough force, but Matt displayed pretty great reflexes with those walls and they are still fairly durable.

Rock Dummy - as displayed in FTF, Matt is capable of creating a rock dummy of himself to appear wherever he feels like it.

Camouflage - Displayed in its full glory in FTF where Matt made Amity completely disappear. During the battle, Matt can turn himself invisible temporarily and other people as well (battle royale-exclusive)

Smokescreen - Matt is capable of releasing a smokescreen that can disorient his opponents.

Link to more of Matt's capabilities here

Luz Noceda:

Because of how many pages Luz has, I won't be putting full details here, just listing the move and giving links that explain what each move does, so here you go

Luz dislikes Matt Tholomule a lot, along with not take him very seriously. She agreed to this battle mostly to relieve her stress over her last battle.

Luz Noceda, the protagonist of our story, is one and only. Unlike other competitors, Luz is a rare example of a jack of all trades who does not specialize in one specific magical track and studies all of them. Normally, Luz specializes in glyphs but according to the lore of my own tournament which happens after the final battle with Belos, Luz no longer has access to glyphs. However, she now does have a magical staff that allows her to still be able to cast spells just fine as proven by Owlbert in Young Blood, Old Souls. Now, since my rules specify how at times you're not allowed to use palismen in the battle, Luz is capable of avoiding this rule thanks to String Bean's shape-shifting nature, as String Bean possibly could transform into an accessory that would allow Luz to cast a spell like everyone is none the wiser, or maybe even shape-shift into an instrument to mimic bard magic (even though Luz has no vibration based spells). Outside of that Luz would also have access to some other supporting artifacts.

When it comes to Luz's fighting style, she in general prefers to outsmart and outpower her opponents with the raw strength of her magic. Luz has come far ever since she started to learn magic, currently with String Bean by her side she certainly is now more accustomed to spell-casting. Luz is quite proficient with magic now coming up with new creative ways to utilise her magic. She also now has more experience in combat meaning she's more willing to take down her opponents head-on. Luz can however be pretty reckless and impulsive when approaching her opponents, biting more than she can chew and sometimes jumping without thinking. Luz can however be quick on her feet and easily recover and come up with new ways to get an upper hand during battles.

Luz cannot use String Bean during this battle as a Palisman, but she can still passively use her if she shape-shifts into an accessory that would allow Luz to cast spells, or transforms into an instrument.

Luz shall be allowed a multitude of tools to help her out during battles. One of them happens to be a crystal ball from her oracle class. Luz can use it to conjure up a single ghost that can be used to help Luz aid in the battle and also predict Luz's future. The ghost is usually chill but rather helpful. It's intangible meaning it's immune to physical attacks for the most part (but can be dispelled with special attacks) and can phase through solid objects to get to its opponents and be capable of touching them to inflict harm.

Another tool Luz would be allowed to use is tea leaves from oracle class which would also help her learn about her opponents, what they're capable of, and what they're going to do.

Luz is also equipped with a training wand in case she needs another source of magic to cast spells from. It's like a hidden dagger if someone would take her sword (as in her staff, I'm clearly alluding to Sasha Waybright's example) away.

Another tool Luz is free to use is her iconic bat which Luz can use for offensive purposes. Luz is allowed to have and use other weapons like a mace and a sword to aid her in the time of her need.

And of course, how could I not forget that Luz also has fireworks to help her in a fight to add more to her firepower.

While Luz doesn't have beast-keeping magic at all, she does seem to have an affinity to be able to tame most of the wild beasts as presented throughout the entire show with her knowledge and attitude. This means Luz is not really affected much by beast-keepers sending animals in her direction unless they're directly under the command of their masters (as in like pets. Sometimes some beasts are untamed and would not follow even the beast-keeper).

Luz also has brought snakes to her battle as she managed to tame them just enough so they would not attack her but certainly would attack her opponents. They're not venomous though considering now pressed any charges when Luz brought them to school. She will bring a few of them.

Another animal that Luz would bring with her to the battlefield are spiders. They're mostly used to just scare people during the fight by pouring them all over her opponents. Can be used as a great distraction. She has quite a large number of them and she can even naturally attract them as seen in TtT. The spiders are also not harmful and Luz is not phased by them either.

Smoke Potion - Another tool Luz would be granted to use is a smoke potion she could brew as seen in the First Day. Luz could potentially utilize it as a smokescreen or suffocation attempt.

Light Orb

Light Bomb

Ultimate Illumination

Multiple Light Orbs

Hologram Projection

Illusion Casting

Illusion creature creation and command

Telekinesis

Object Creation

Disintegration Spell

Invisibility

Partial Invisibility

Ice Platform

Ice Wall

Ice Spike

Ice Slide

Ice Bat

Ice Construct

Ice Sword

Freeze

Ice Spike Prison

Ice Spike Stream

Ice Blast

Iceberg

Ice Stream

Ice Spikes

Ice Shield

Ice Bullet

Snow Construct

Snow Storm

Icicle Assault

Ice Bridge

Ice Enchantment

Majestic Tree

Thorn Bolt

Tree Assault

Vine Trap

Hanging Vine Trap

Vine Transport

Vine Grab

Vine Attack

Vine Shield

Vine Platform

Jungle Grab

Plant Creature Creation

Plant Enchantment

Plant Bomb

Fire Ball

Fire Enchantment

Fire Sphere

Temperature Raise

Fire Shield

Fire Stream

Fire Explosion

Fire Geyser

Fire Propulsion

Fire Ejection

Combustion

Fire Rainbow

Fire Tornado

Spicy Toss

Safety Hover

Steam Cloud

Sleeping Cloud

Tornado Spell

Water Spell

Teleportation

Flash Step

Comet Charge

Laser Strike

Mega Beam

Explosion

Return to Masterpost

[iappearmissing]

diluc, the dawn knight

NAME. diluc ragnvindr

TITLES. favonius captain (former), darknight hero, the dawn knight (inherited title) AGE. twenty-three

GENDER. cis male / he/him

ORIENTATION. bisexual

NATIONALITY. mondstadt denizen

ETHNICITY. muratan

BIRTHDAY. april 30th.

FAMILY. crepus ragnvindr (father, deceased) / aurora ragnvindr (mother, deceased) / kaeya

BODY. lean-built, mesomorph. he is strong in muscle and rigorously exercises to keep himself fit, but never seems able to truly bulk up. in spite of this, he is strong enough to bear a claymore, his new weapon of choice after parting with his former blade once used alongside his fellow knights. scars litter his body beneath his clothes from various battles where he was both loser and victor, striking and highly noticeable against his pale skin. ironically, despite being blessed by the archon of pyro herself, he burns incredibly easily under the sun. he has a smattering of freckles scattered across his shoulders.

HEIGHT. 5′9″

WEIGHT. 170 lbs

HAIR. long and wild, were it not for his status as a nobleman, he would be far less careful with it. lacking in vanity, his care is minimal, trimming off split ends himself and managing its length on his own. it is soft, silky, but prone to tangles due to how thick it is, and he often complains about how one day, he will chop it all off. in secret, he never would have the heart, feeling his hair is a great tie to his passed father.

FACE. soft, round, and babyish. despite being a grown man on the verge of twenty-six, he looks incredibly young, and cannot seem to escape this. the only bonus is that opponents often underestimate him on account of his boyish looks, otherwise leaving him to seethe over the baby fat yet to dissipate from his cheeks. while diluc mourns his inability to look the part of a sharp-cut man, the general populace of mondstadt seem to still find him incredibly handsome, many a fair lady smitten with the image of mondstadt’s richest bachelor.

EYES. flame-kissed like his hair, his eyes are large, almond-shaped, and framed by long, soft lashes. more often than not, they are kept half-lowered with a perpetual look of disdain. when using his vision, they glow as bright as the fires he wields.

ATTIRE. always formally dressed, even at his most relaxed, he will only be caught in the finest of dress shirts, the most casual pair of pants he owns being slacks. even in mondstadt’s summer season, he always dresses warmly, as though a perpetual ice from within slowly eats at him.

PERSONALITY. aloof, cold, bitter, mondstadt’s dawn knight was not always so distant from people. a bright-eyed youth, tragedy after tragedy ripped the hopeful version of himself to pieces, in its place emerging a man embittered by the cruelties of life and the gods’ seeming lack of care. however, his heart remains golden, still loving of the people of the city of freedom in spite of the hand he was given, and in the dark of night, he protects them in the way he feels best, while evading the knights of favonius’s eye. upon an initial meeting, he is an incredibly tough nut to crack, seemingly cold and distant as he pushes himself away from those around. those with enough patience to gradually cut through his guard will find him incredibly caring and insightful, often displaying his care discretely. humility is at the core of diluc’s person, and he greatly loathes those who bask in the spotlight, feeling that the first and foremost duty of anyone serving the people is to remain humble, and remember that their role does not exist to bloat their own egos.

HISTORY. born to the prestigious ragnvindr house, diluc’s birth was simultaneously a miracle, and a tragedy. long had crepus and his mother, aurora, been trying for a child, and when she fell pregnant with diluc, both were ecstatic, over the moon that their home would become that much more full. alas, the joy was not meant to be, for aurora went into labor early, and before the dawn sun could rise, she was gone. on april 30th, in one fell blow, crepus both gained a son, and lost a wife, tragically helpless as even the doctor who had rushed to their estate could do nothing for her as she slowly faded away. had it not been for diluc, crepus would have fallen apart at the seams, but his determination to provide the upbringing he and aurora had planned for him kept him strong. aurora was buried on the grounds of their estate, close to where he could bring diluc and tell him stories of his mother, often remarking on how similarly he looked to her. diluc from the day he could walk was a determined boy. with a fire in his heart that burned brighter than anything that could extinguish it, from the age of five he began to practice the art of the sword, determined to fulfill his father’s wish of becoming a knight of favonius that had never come true. such was a dream he knew could truly be realized when he received the blessing of the pyro archon. in the heat of a rigorous training session, just as he was about to be made to submit by his opponent, he witnessed it. a whirlwind of fire in the image of a great eagle swept in over where he lay, exhausted and on the edge of defeat, and revitalized him with an energy indescribable, feeling the very core of his being ignite, like a missing puzzle piece slotting in. by the end of the match, declared victor, it took his father excitedly pointing out the blessing waiting for him upon the dusty training grounds, burning as bright as a flickering flame.

acknowledgment of his triumph, of his and his father’s ambition, diluc took his pyro vision in hand with pride and delight, feeling it was a sign from the archons themselves that he had chosen the right path, and that he would see it to the end.

such hope would soon be crushed on his eighteenth birthday, when his world tipped upside down, and he watched his father die in his arms.

few know the exact circumstances of that day. his adoptive brother, kaeya, is the only one who knows the full details, and knows the true reason as to why diluc vanished into the night, and abandoned mondstadt for several years, leaving behind the vision he had one cherished and shedding his title as a captain of favonius.

upon his return, many claimed the old diluc had died on that night. the man who returned was a cold shell of his former self, the bright fire within seeming to have extinguished. yet, those with a keen eye will make quick notice that the day he returned home, he reclaimed the vision he had sworn to never touch again.

EXTRA. not only is diluc descended from the famed dawn knight, he is the descendant of lady vennessa. for the sake of her family’s safety, vennessa never went public with her husband and family, she and the original dawn knight agreeing to keep their relationship a secret, lest outside forces pursue their children. diluc only discovered this fact of his family after crepus’s passing. a well-kept family secret, crepus had intended to one day tell him of this, when he felt the information would be kept safe with him, but unfortunately passed before the moment could arrive. diluc found out when reading old archives of his family’s history, realizing why crepus so desperately wished to become a knight, and why he had been so over the moon when his son had not only gotten a vision, but became a knight and soared through its ranks. the eagle often seen with him is in fact lady vennessa herself. she arrived to him during his journey outside of mondstadt, and while he does not realize who she is, he recognizes that she is no mere eagle, and accepted her as a divine guide after multiple instances of her helping him back onto the right path. she flies freely throughout mondstadt, but returns routinely to diluc to check in on him, seeing it as apart of her duties to see to her descendants and ensure their survival in what teyvat has become. no one knows about diluc’s connection to lady vennessa save for diluc himself, and he holds this secret close to heart, especially knowing what it will mean in terms of the knights’ interest in him.

[despairforme]

What is the significance of Nnoitra’s bracelets?

      His bracelets, huh? He lifted a thin arm, the golden bracelets rattling together with a characteristic gold-against-gold sound. Metallic and clear. Nnoitra ALWAYS wore his bracelets. Three around each wrist. He had learned that wearing accessories such as these was something humans did to enhance their appearance, or to display status. For Nnoitra, it was about neither. He DID treasure them though, and he’d never - EVER take them off.

      They had been given to him by Santa Teresa, his Zanpakuto spirit. They were golden because they were forged out of their joint reiatsu. Hard like his hierro, golden like the color of his soul. How ironic, that his soul was yellow - the color representing HOPE. Of which he had none. There was no hope for him. Would be no salvation. The bracelets? They were made to help him die.

      On him, they looked light. But they were not. The weight of them was enormous. Each holding enough despair to bring a normal man to his knees. They were meant to make it even harder for Nnoitra to fight, since he had to wield his weapon while his arms were being weighed down. Perhaps they’d slow him down for a split second. Make his reactions just a little too slow - and that split second would cost him his life. And finally, he’d be able to die. This was Santa Teresa’s gift to him. Nnoitra had been overjoyed when he received the bracelets. It had been proof that Teresa thought his strength was so vast that he’d NEVER be able to leave this godforsaken world. His enemies needed HELP in order to slay him. 

      He had carried them for many years, and was so used to the added weight on his arms that, were he ever to take them off, he’d feel naked. They were a comfort to him. He could look at them and be reminded of his own strength. The only times his bracelets would disappear was when he released his Zanpakuto. Each bracelet would merge with the six scythes, and each would weigh the same as one of the bracelets. They would be returned to him when he exited his Resurrection. It was always a fear of his - that Santa Teresa would refuse to give them back to him.

      ❝ Mah - ❞ He said, rolling his shoulders. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to share this very personal information. It felt like a matter between himself and Teresa. Not for others to meddle with or have an opinion on. ❝ They look good, yeah? ❞

[forgottengodfrey]

Little Princess | Godfrey & Cassandra

Cool daylight spread grey tendrils through the slanted sun shafts that illuminated Castle Stafford. While Roderick was now making a great show of his indifference to the riots, (going so far as to threaten to take his family on Progress through Astaira) the truth was that they had shaken him. It was clear in every protest he made, every heavy-slitted glance towards the wide doors which he was even now having cast in heavy iron, supposedly in order to depict the imperial family and Roderick's own glorious deeds upon it, the naked truth of it was that that was a safety procaution. Roderick quaked upon his throne and, in its shadow, Godfrey smiled, eyes turning towards the pale stream of dusty light. Roderick's paranoia was, to Godfrey's mind, the most powerful weapon there was to wield against him, and an unsteady emperor was a foolish one.

With the council session at last ending, Godfrey bowed to the Emperor, still seated proud upon his lofty seat, and began his exit, hefty tome tucked upon one arm. Outside of the council chambers, the windows were wider and, dusky though it remained, Godfrey blinked slightly in the light, his lips twitching upwards slightly at himself even as he did. Torches lined the wide alley and to either side wide windows and balconies offered unparalleled views across all of Stafford and beyond, high up as the Citadel perched -- closer, he had heard Eilionora say, to the stars. But closer, too, to the sun in the day.

As if its herald, a tinkling and familiar laugh sounded from its rays as Cassandra, attended by a gaggle of Varmont ladies, stepped out from the balcony. The ladies, giggling and chatting amongst themselves, pealed from her side -- noting they had fallen far behind the queen her mother -- but Cassandra's progress he arrested with a warm smile and a familiar greeting.

"Good morning, little princess. How is your renewed freedom treating you?"

It was a term of endearment Godfrey had long used for her in private, its origins in her infancy. At the time of Arthur's birth, the Calainon faction's distrust for Marian's had been at its height, but by Cassandra's -- and particularly given her status as a woman -- that had diminished somewhat, Edmund's birth providing an undeniable balm.

Cassandra's distaste for the court's limited movements since the riots had been no secret, and with most restrictions now once again lifted (for her class and situation of life, in any case), Godfrey had little doubt she was feeling sweet relief. And it was she, and her eldest brother, who were likely to prove most heedless in the moments that would follow.

"I can only imagine the fresh air must taste sweet, indeed. Have you yet been out of the castle?"

[alchemisland]

Some brutal nation

Some brutal nation subjugating neighbours

Stripping naked, upbraiding

Finally raping and hanging captors

Not only way but their way

Inherited from violent forebears

Inherited bearing becomes weighted burden

Ass asked to bear until death, tare of legacy

Horseback archers rare skills surpassing

Indeed, anpiels in blazing!

By amazing speed melding

It seem’d, with wielded weapons, spun mithrils.

.

Gilt conveyance graced with Inanna’s painted face

Spiralbound ivory frames, at corners housing flameflecked gems

Taking the field lupine Sennacherib and fifty three times men

Arrows gelled with venom slathered in salival death

Each breath spent cursing, enemies to all Eden

Despising freedom’s every seedling.

.

Berserkers bowing wolf king peacock

Divers temper movable as the ridden cockhorse’s tracks

What lacks in Mercury exalts in red Mars

His word scarring brand

His band land’s scourge

Discouraging travel and trade

Destroying terrains by torch

Leaving behind rainless plains further scorched

Endorsing hatred in every name and guise

Scalding Adam’s Sons, harrying Edom.

.

Sennacherib feasts during battle

Death dulcifying apple segments, like red-rounded lunula

Speckled eggs eaten off an armless odalisque’s legs

Odd, malformed concubines of a world-tired conqueror

Women and men splayed bring to pleasure donkeys

Some bearing forth children half-bay, born to graves

Whiskey brought from Ogygia, which he briskly sips at until tipsy

Falling chair to bed, one tenth of those he wedded waiting

Eager to sate his titanic lusts.

.

Gales briskly tracing faces of gyring buzzards

Blustering against his summer tent’s walls

Multicoloured striations, like a thing painted

Pentagons couple-coloured foolmotley rolandfarter

Turtle’s shell harbouring stained glass wonders

Culminating to a minaret

King’s grandest lazaretto, on high bluff overlooking throes

Casting force careless, stones into oceans thrown

Skips uncounted

Tired of bounty yet abounding amount

Has not counted him satisfied, nor slaked brute ambition.

.

A redoubt stately and vain, fain envy inducing

Mirthful to him as it is menacing to attendants

Its floor sod, earth itself

Letting his chasuble’s dragging hem turn dirt

Which he herded sheep over, once

What felt another lifetime ago

All let go, water flowing but forward.

.

Appearing to himself from the tent’s corners

He had ferried here myriad busts

From kingdom’s interior hauled, with difficulty

To the perilous frontline, that he would indulge

Even his most needless need kens his divinity.

.

He Assyrian Sennacherib

Whom Byron described a wolf, cutlass-toothed

Whose crib a fierce Mac Tíre’s teat

Whose seat high Assyria

Feared by warlike nations

His voice clanking chains, angel-enraging

Hell’s tendering his cavalries mustering, thunderous

Mustard yellow throat of doublet, scarlet below

Rousing singularly, placid minds enflaming with warlike tendency

He is delivered, an Ifrit with fire imprinting battlelines

Stoking rivalries between tribes, reddening the Euphrates for Nergal.

.

Delivering a speech

Moving slowly, deliberately

To supreme ovation

No wasted rotation

Sleeves yawning open ovals, silken cavemouths

Vast carriage chariot arrayed in golden livery

Winding train like wagons parading new trades routes

Worshipful beard, a Lear in aspect

Curly, red-flecked black and trained to a fork

Like a place of folkloric devildealing.

.

All war’s rules repeals, ruled by greedy Mars

His armies’ steels thirst to bleed infidels

First through the breach, delving over corpses rubbled-shrouded

In the houses of foreign gods despoiling goods-laden altars

Sundering exalted statues and assaulting holy virgins

For use only by Jove and chosen acolytes, high priests

Pray to the bodiless ankles of smashed marbles

Weeping, marvels an age surviving tossed aside like garbage.

.

When considerate, pulls beard’s frays

Phrase to lips presaged by dour countenance

Feared pronouncements the rout of principals

Palanquin pulled by red-eyed foals, kin to Diomedes’ mares

Gross throne footed by foes’ skulls

Skin still peeling from some, sun defaced

Blood spatters the stair thereto.

.

Granted courage and strength by terrible Gods

Chaotes in mighty motions alike to a Charybdis

Daring’s surfeit every naked surface of their bodies

Riding into battle, warriors without armour

Save armlets and protection-bestowing wode spiral

Coming army unlike lacking rank, banner, livery

Ants akin in disorganised harmony.