#go monstrous abomination or go home

[coulsart]

About the Unknown

I have a theory. A game theory. And we're going to ignore the fact that delving into this would put me on the Unknown's shit list IMMEDIATELY. It’s fine.

Disclaimer: I do not know what’s canon, and they kept it intentionally vague. Everyone’s valid to have their head canons and this is just the explanation my brain conjured up.

"The Unknown was believed to be a mysterious evil so heinous that investigating it almost immediately invited death. At least that was how the story went. And there were many stories. One story was of a woman in Greenville who disappeared without a trace on stage in front of a room full of witnesses. Her friend disappeared weeks later while trying to investigate what happened. The police were stumped. They had no clues or leads, and that mystery created the perfect storm for amplifying and spreading an urban legend." An excerpt from the very beginning of the official lore page

I want to focus on a few key words here. It was believed to be heinously evil. There were stories about disappearances. Said mysterious stories spread and amplified the urban legend.

The Unknown gains power from people's beliefs and thoughts about it. Not too unlike Pennywise from 'IT'. But there's a catch.

People theorize that it might be an alien, a curse, a cult-created abomination, or just a really elusive serial killer... but it is all of those things. Because people believe that it is.

It doesn't have control over what it is. It's a horrible hodge-podge monstrosity of many things, seemingly mashed and twisted together violently. It likely started as something completely different, or nothing at all. Maybe a vague presence that only observed. But people could feel the presence. And while neither good nor evil, the peoples' minds conjured up visions, explanations of what it might be. Some imagined it to be a man lurking in the shadows. Watching and stalking them. And so the Unknown's body began to form. First as a man. Even still, with this new body, it was inherently off. Uncanny from the start. The Unknown was at its core so far removed from humanity that it still could not pass as one of us. So it would linger in the forest, only venturing to the threshold between town and woods.

Maybe an unfortunate camper happened upon it at night. This shadow in the dark, distinctly the shape of a man. But what does one think first, encountering a strange man in the dead of night? All alone and isolated in the deep woods?

"He's going to kill me with a knife, or an ax!"

And so it did. Because they believed it would.

It only snowballed from there, after the body was found, only a few paces away from their untouched tent. There was no evidence left. No DNA, no footprints to follow. Just a bloodied body, with a skull cloven almost completely in twain; by what was suspected to be an ax. So the theories began.

No one could explain the lack of evidence left behind. It was too perfect, too efficient. And what were the chances of a normal man doing such damage in only a single swing?

More murders followed. At first, people started disappearing, their bodies later being found in the woods, not far from the first victim. They grew increasingly more mangled, to the point that authorities began to question whether it was done by a man, or an animal.

The people became afraid. Paranoid that this insane ax murderer would tire of the woods and enter their homes at night, while they were resting peacefully in bed. The fears were beginning to surpass that of just a serial killer. The Unknown was beginning to become more of a boogeyman figure to them. No human man could have committed such gruesome killings.

People began to disappear from their homes at night. Then the streets. Then the cafe and theater. Then... sometimes in broad daylight. Its territory only grew. Its abilities more and more vast and unpredictable. The theories only escalated... and throughout its rampage, the Unknown grew increasingly monstrous. Its humanoid body twisted and contorted to fit the peoples' beliefs. But nothing was erased - only added on. Which is why it existed in the horrific state that it did.

A body can only fit so much substance inside without tearing itself apart. Without becoming an deformed, unstable, and agonizing vessel to pilot and exist in.

Human beings did this to it. Human beings made what it was. They assumed the worst of it, and it became that.

So naturally, it became hateful and bitter. It loathes humans. They did this. It lives in constant agony and isolation because of them... only for the crime of observing and existing in their vicinity. That's why it killed the ones who dive deeper into its existence and theorize about what it is. They kept making it worse. Inflicting more pain upon it and twisting its body further and further.

It mirrors humans' own words to them. Snippets of conversation, pleas for help. It does not truly have its own voice. It only has what others have spoken about it, and around it.

But its feelings towards human beings are clear, based on its words. Especially in its memento mori. "The terror. The horror. Terribly frightening, isn't it." The way it parrots their words in this case almost seems vindictive and sarcastic. These are all things that human beings have said about it.

Thought outside of what it's been made into became increasingly difficult. Yet, somehow, the Unknown is vaguely aware of this fact: it could have been spared this horrific existence, had human beings chosen differently.

And for the Unknown, it only got worse when the Entity stole it away. It begged and pleaded for help - ironically, seeking it from that which it loathed most. A human being. It was torn from our world and plunged into the never ending loop that are Her trials. All for the sake of feeding Her appetite for suffering and torment. And it isn't only at the survivors' expense. It is at the expense of the Unknown as well. It suffers just as much as they... if not more. They at least have companions to rely on - with varying results, of course. It has nobody.

All hope for it healing is lost. The survivors have no reason not to think it a ruthless, horrific monster. And in turn, it has no reason not to hate and slaughter them.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

[nomsfaultau]

The Lambs Wolves Wear part 8

Dark SBI AU where Philza’s human children were replaced by monsters. Start of ficlet is here.

Both Tommys held Philza’s hands as he walked into the home. “Wilbur” and “Technoblade” froze painfully to see both imposter and real child side by side. Whorls of frost spread out from “Technoblade’s” bare toes, and “Wilbur” drained of color in a rather literal way, his illusion pooling on the ground in colorful streaks as the changeling stormed towards them. Tommy, frightened to watch his “brother’s” face melt off, tucked into Philza’s side. 

Mistaking the fear for “Tommy’s” apprehension of a tongue lashing, “Wilbur” seized Tommy roughly, “You idiot,” “Wilbur” hissed. Visions of his nightmares bled into the world, illusions of Philza attacking, killing, disowning them pouring into the house. “You’ve just killed yourself, you know that right? What the hell does he need you for if he has his real son?” 

“You’re yelling at the wrong Tommy,” Philza said weakly, trying not to lose all feeling in his legs as he watched his son threatened only minutes after he was finally back. 

Lip curling, “Wilbur” dropped Tommy, rounding upon “Tommy” who claimed, “No Dad’s mixed up! That’s the real demon, not me!” 

Tommy began to question what was happening, and Philza squeezed his hand harshly to silence him. Plastering on a thick smile, he knelt before his son. “These are your new brothers, okay? They’re m- not human.”

Tommy was relieved. “Oh, I thought Wilbur had figured out a next level prank and I had no idea how I was going to one-up melting my face off! Did Techno and Wil get turned into cows too?”

“No. But they’re safe.” Maybe. Philza needed them to be safe. “I’m trying to get Technoblade and Wilbur back, but it’ll take some time.”

“No it won’t,” “Wilbur” snapped from where he was trying to strangle a raccoon. “Wilbur is gone. Accept it.” 

“Tommy” bit his hand, and “Wilbur” shrieked at the lava melting through his skin. “It’s okay,” “Tommy” assured his fellow imposters as his little imp form perched in the ceiling rafters, unflinching at the illusionary spears hurled at him. “You can give them back now, Dad said he won’t be mad.” 

“Tell me the truth,”  “Wilbur” commanded sharply. 

“I’m not getting rid of any of you,” Philza insisted, just barely able to snap his mouth close before the yet slipped out. Of course he couldn’t, not when he still needed his kids back safe and sound first. 

“Wilbur” trembled, his talons curled into painfully tight fists. Then his hollow gaze dropped from Philza. “...I can’t help you, even if I wanted to. The Fae Queen has Wilbur, not me.” 

Philza couldn’t help his hopeful glance to “Technoblade”. But the mouth of the haunted vessel hardened. “You already have Technoblade. He’s right here. We didn’t steal him, like the others did.” 

Philza hadn’t much hope left to be dashed. He squeezed Tommy’s hand, and didn’t stop him as Tommy raced off to explore the monster’s powers. In the eyes of a child, their monstrous natures could only be viewed through the lens of excitement, unable to grasp the unfathomable danger he was in. He pestered them with a million questions. A risky game given the tension choking the room. 

“You have to be careful with them, Tommy. Your new brothers can play a little rough sometimes.” Philza poured his urgency into his gaze, keeping his voice as chipper as ever. Then, his fury turned upon the monsters. “If anyone hurts Tommy you are all grounded.” The trio of incomprehensibly powerful abominations cowered before him. 

—-------------------------------

“Tommy!!” Phil screamed at the top of his lungs. “Come here right now.” He looked at the mess before him, and it had Tommy written all over it by the bite marks on his flowerbed. Only question was which one. A twin pair of golden heads popped through the doorway. “I know it’s very funny for you both to look like Tommy, but I can’t have you looking the exact same. It’s gonna cause a lot of problems. Think about it, what if one of you gets punished for the other ones mistake? If I can’t tell who it’s supposed to be, both Tommys will get in trouble. I don’t care what you decide on, but you have to choose a way to tell you two part.” 

“I can be Tommy one!” the first Tommy exclaimed.

The second Tommy pouted. “I wanted to be Tommy one,” he said grumpily.

“Fine, you can be Tommy one; I’ll be Best Tommy!”  

“That’s not fair! I want to be Tommy one, too!” said the third Tommy. Wait, the third Tommy? Philza whipped around fast and counted the heads of his sons, realizing that somewhere along the way, he picked up a third Tommy. Philza was about to lose his mind. Where had the new Tommy come from? What had happened? Was this a new monster he was supposed to deal with? How is he supposed to fight against a new monster who he knew nothing about???

“Sorry, I’m not sure we’ve met each other before. Would you care to introduce yourself?”

“Dad, you seriously can’t tell I’m the original Tommy!?”

Philza groaned in frustration. “That’s it! Mandatory group hug!” The Tommys immediately scattered, but Philza was quick enough to scoop them all up. They writhed and groaned about cuties as he focused. Tommy one, too was biting him. Which….didn’t narrow it down. Best Tommy was kicking him and making disgruntled cow sounds, so probably human Tommy??? No, he needed more data. Tommy one was slightly feverish to the touch so he was likely the demon “Tommy”. But the other two? That was a little harder to tell. Best Tommy was normal temperature, but so was Tommy one, too. Wait…no. Tommy one, too, was room temperature, lacking his own body heat. Almost like he wasn’t really there. “”WILBUR!”” Philza shouted. 

“Wilbur” glanced up from the book he was unassumedly reading on the porch swing. “Can I help you?’ he asked, faintly annoyed. 

“If you also begin to make illusory Tommys, I will be likewise punishing you any time one of them gets in trouble.” Philza couldn’t afford to be mistaken ever again. He had to nip this problem in the bud before the consequences grew horrific. How was he supposed to defend Tommy if he couldn’t tell who he was? 

The changeling scowled. “Excuse me? I don’t care what those brats get up to, it has nothing to do with me.”

“This is clearly your illusion.” To prove his point, he dramatically patted the fake Tommy on the head. He blinked as nothing happened, then chuckled a little, catching “Wilbur’s” flash of a triumphant smirk. Philza ruffled the hair of the other Tommy, who dissolved beneath the iron of his wedding band like morning mist. ““Wilbur” if you compound on the doppelgänger confusion with your illusions, you’ll receive the same punishment.” 

“If you catch me~” he laughed with a voice like silver bells. 

“Why you little-” Philza began, stalking over to where he sat, only for a loud crash to whip his head around. One of the Tommys had turned into a cow, and Philza really couldn’t tell which. 

“Really now, I know you boys introduced yourself as doubles, but you are your own people with different personalities. Please be yourselves- ah, with the boundaries we established,” Philza warned before “Tommy” could turn into a hulking demon. “Wouldn’t you like to find a nice form all your own? Stop pretending to be someone you’re not?”

“Not when we can cause so much chaos!” “Tommy” cackled, racing off riding a blond cow. “And if you try to ground me I’ll rip your head off!” Philza sighed heavily and sat on the porch swing next to “Wilbur”. Technically he knew he should be following to make sure his child wasn’t eviscerated by a random flare of the demon’s temper…but god was he exhausted from trying to chase the pair around for days. The fact Tommy had survived so far was certainly justification for a five-minute break at the very least. 

With a startled blink, Philza realized the changeling sitting beside him no longer wore the disguise of Wilbur. The illusion puddled beneath the changeling, who was still wholly occupied with his book, albeit in a way where it was clearly just a prop so he wouldn’t have to meet Philza’s gaze. The fae was tense, waiting for a reaction. “...have you decided to be yourself now?” he asked cautiously, knowing how testy the changeling could be. 

“Wilbur” didn’t look away from his book, knees drawn up to his chest. “Whatever. Not like it’s an improvement.” 

Philza smiled warmly. “Of course it is!” It would make it so much easier to be rid of him if he looked like the monster he was. Or, so Philza prayed. He’d grown too familiar with the deadly, reading past the frightening features of the creature before him. The stiff posture not as a creature ready to lunge, but a teen bracing to be mocked for the true self he despised. “This means you’re more comfortable, right?”

“Don’t read into it too much, old man.” Philza’s smile grew a little wider at the way “Wilbur” eased a little. Above all, it meant “Wilbur’s” guard was lowering, regardless of what Philza did with the fact. 

Next>

[hawkinasock]

Yanqing is just the subject of a aeon tug of war game he didn’t even sign up for someone save him

Also would love to hear more about your thoughts on Jing Yuan and his whole thought process on the Hunt/Abundance and Abundance!Yanqing in general

Poor kid can't catch a break man... Don't ask for help from me, though. I'll just make it worse lmao.

Prepare for another yapping session, because there is so much I have to say about Jing Yuan when it comes to this theory.

Firstly, while I've said before that Jing Yuan is aware of Yanqing's status, that doesn't mean he knows the full story. As far as he's aware, Yanqing is either a human that the disciples had gotten their hands on at one point or a unique type of Abomination that is almost entirely indiscernible from any other human. He doesn't know the extent of his origins, his relationship with Yaoshi, he isn't even confident in the full potential of Yanqing's power.

That aside, something about him made Jing Yuan unable or unwilling to go through with killing him, and when he made the decision to keep Yanqing alive, took it upon himself to raise him rather than leave him to an orphanage, keeping the secret under wraps. Maybe there was something about that baby that lit a spark in him. Maybe when he looked to what should be a monster and saw an innocent child who didn't understand what was going on, didn't know what he was or why Jing Yuan held that glaive, it would be monstrous of him to snuff out that life. Maybe he only became aware of Yanqing's status after the fact, but by that point was too attached to ever even consider telling anyone.

Whatever the circumstances were, in Jing Yuan's eyes, Yanqing is far more valuable to him than anything else. Even his loyalty to the Alliance, whom he has sworn loyalty since his youth became expendable the moment he held that little infant in his arms for the first time. He would be content taking on the label of a traitor so long as it meant keeping his son alive.

In terms of the aeons, there's no implications that Jing Yuan feels any sort of respect for Yaoshi or the Abundance as a whole, it's definitely the opposite, in fact. The overall consensus is that he remains loyal to the Xianzhou and their designated aeon, it just comes down to his own hypocrisy and apparent double standards. He's slain countless abominations, but not only did he spare the life of one, he brought it into his home and gave it one of the highest ranks on the Luofu.

Huaiyan was wrong. At one point, Jing Yuan's loyalty not only wavered but crumbled. He knows he won't make it out of this unpunished; soon the lie will stretch too thin, and it's only a matter of time until it all comes back to bite him. But so long as Yanqing is okay, so long as he's alive, then Jing Yuan is content with that outcome.

[aether-bun]

Hi there I was wondering if you could write some headcanons of the S/V Trio+carmin and kieran (and maybe the BB league if not then just the first two) meeting a gn or male reader who is poke-human hybrid(half incineroar) who was part of an experiment and was saved by their adopted mother

HEADCANON TIME

Anomaly (noun):

"Something different, abnormal, peculiar, or not easily classified; something anomalous."

"The legend of the hybrids is a story that has lived in Paldea longer than most. In an age long past, there was once a fearsome group of monstrous creatures; monsters that bore the forms of Incineroar, that spoke the dialect of humankind. They terrorised villages and destroyed homes, and were hunted down to what was thought to be their extinction. Some say they can still hear the horrifying screams of these abominations in caves and cliff edges to this day, but none who explore these rumours have ever come back..."

Characters (in order): Nemona, Arven, Kieran

The reader is referred to with he/him pronouns, but is otherwise kept ambiguous in terms of everything but the fact that he is VERY tall. This is purely platonic!!

[author's note at the end!]

NEMONA is the first to meet you.

I think she would meet you in the beach area we find Korai/Miraidon

It was by complete accident, she was walking around and exploring when she suddenly heard what sounded like human voices echoing from off the ledge, so she investigated, worried that someone was hurt.

What she didn't expect was to see a group of people, with arms that faded into red paws, legs that did the same, tails that swished around, a fiery belt around their waists and two red and black ears coming out of short, thick red hair!

You locked eyes, and both of you were very nervous immediately. She had so many questions! But by the time she could get her brain back together to formulate any sort of a sentence, you and your pride took off into the caves.

She doesn't see you again for a few months - she almost thinks she dreamt the whole day up - until she's exploring those exact caves in search of some houndour to catch.

She's overencumbered, of course, because suddenly their houndoom appears and they're all surrounding her and her pokemon, and she knows she's definitely screwed up

Suddenly, there's a loud, earth-shaking roar, as you emerge with your pack at the cave's only other exit. The pack of hounds flinch at your intimidating forms and flee, and you make sure they stay gone before cautiously helping this human off of the ground.

She's stunned. The rambler can't form a thought. You tower over her, and your form fills her head with so many questions that she's afraid her head will explode, but again, you're gone before she can even get them out.

So, she starts staying around the cave when she knows it's safe. She finally has the courage and the power to stop her brain from frying when she sees you, so she wants to get to know you. You see her, of course, from afar, but you don't go near her. The humans can't know.

Until she finds you anyway, and she tries to introduce herself.

You're cautious. This woman is half your height, you could literally crush her, but she's holding out her hand to you and telling you her name, as if that idea isn't looming above her like a vice. It is. She's very scared.

"....[Y/N]." You caution, shaking her hand as she beams. "So you can talk!?" She asks, making you cringe from her volume. "Yes?" You say.

From there, you grow to be unlikely friends. She swears she won't tell anyone who you are! She swears she won't let anyone know she's seen you - it'll be your little secret!

Yeah. Guess how long that lasted. Now take that guess and halve it. It took three days for her to crack and spill to Arven. Penny overheard by pure accident, too, and Nemona made them swear to not tell anyone.

"Didn't you also swear that?!" Arven had demanded. Nemona immediately changed the subject.

Finding two more humans in your den was irritating, but Nemona made you feel like you couldn't stay mad at her. This, in turn, made you even more frustrated.

Nemona likes to feel your fur and insists you're so soft that she feels like she can go to sleep on you. You deny her that leisure as soon as you can.

She likes learning about how you and your pack live, coexisting with other pokemon. You tell her it's an oddly isolating life; stuck between pokemon and human with no way of ever fitting into either category. It's why you live in this cave. It's safer here.

"Isn't it...lonely?"

"...yes. it is. but it's necessary for our survival as a pack."

Nemona feels very sorry for you, but makes up for it by always sneaking off to hang with you as much as she can.

You find you like the insight these new humans have, so you don't mind their stay.

ARVEN is very intimidated when he meets you.

For a researcher, you would've thought Nemona's story about Pokehumans would be completely blasphemous to him.

You would be wrong.

He believed her instantly, without so much as a photo of proof. It was Penny who managed to get him to realise how off that sounded.

The three of them took to researching anything about these supposed hybrids that they could. Arven was the one to find the old folkstory. It scared him.

"Nemona, you can't go back there. Look at this! These things are obviously just trying to kill you!"

Nemona is VERY quick to jump to your defense. "Arven! He saved me from those houndour and houndoom I was trying to fight! He saw that I could've been hurt and he stepped in and saved me!"

Penny remarked the unusual behaviour.

Arven wasn't buying your charity act.

"Until I see proof that these things exist, let alone are docile, I'm not believing a word." He crossed his arms.

"Great, come meet them then!"

"What?!"

And thus, Nemona and Arven set off while Penny did more research into the beings.

When your new human friend arrives to your spot in the cave, you see she's dragging along with her a blond haired man. This sets you on edge, and unfortunately, you and your pack immediately rising to defend your home gives off a bad first impression.

Arven tries to pull Nemona away, to escape, to fight back, to hide, to do anything but stand there and try to reason with them Nemona please for the love of Arceus let's GO

Nemona apologises to you for accidentally spilling your secret and it takes quite a while for you to tell your pack to stand down. You come to face them, and Arven stares at you with unhidden horror. You huff. He flinches with a whimper.

"[Y/N], this is Arven. Arven, this is [Y/N]. He leads the pack." Nemona's voice is steady but it's easy to see she's nervous. You can basically smell the fear on them.

It takes an even longer while for Arven to calm down enough to look at you properly. Multiple visits, where you aren't alone together, and then he eventually realises you don't pose a threat unless he does, which, to be fair, in your eyes he never did.

(you're pretty sure you could blink and he'd disintegrate. you don't say this, for fear that the idea will have the same effect.)

Eventually, you warm up to him and his Mabostiff companion, and he warms up to you enough to be alone with you and the pack.

He sews up some of your clothes, noticing the wear and tear of them. Like most of your interactions, it takes a while for you to let him, but once you do, he acknowledges the trust you have in him and is very careful.

Before long, he becomes your medic too. He teaches you about these wonderful things called sandwiches that you have in these events deemed picnics, and in turn he notes your behaviours and temperaments.

It's a mutually beneficial relationship. You trust him and he trusts you. He becomes your second "friend".

[For this next segment, I am going to say that the preface is that Carmine and Kieran are looking into urban legends around Paldea and they come across the one about your pack. This next section is assuming Nemona, Arven and Penny either never found you, or found you later. Consider this the other path in the road if you will! :)]

KIERAN meets you in the plateaued mountains of Paldea, on a mission to prove you're real.

In hindsight, the circumstances could've been better.

He'd been injured on the mountains by a rogue Zigzagoon, and he was currently trying to call for help.

No, as in, he was yelling 'Help'. He's a kid without a phone, man.

You hear his cries and, against your better judgement, you command the pack to hide and look for the voice yourself.

Lo and behold, you find a small boy, no older than a kit, and he's bleeding around his leg. A Dipplin and a Grigar are looking on in concern for their trainer, and, though weakened, they jump to defend when they see you approach.

Alerted by the sounds of his pokemon amping to attack, he looks and he sees you, the terrifying hybrid creature he'd read about in tales of old.

In those tales, this was the part where he became a fatality.

He was paralysed with fear, the pain of his leg long forgotten as he stared up at you.

Death never came. Instead, you kneeled and spoke to the offensive Pokemon. Just like the stories, you spoke perfectly human. Your voice was gravelly and rough, but completely comprehensible.

"He needs assistance."

The Pokemon spoke back to you. You seemed to dislike their answer.

"I do not wish to hurt him. If you want that wound to get worse, then I'll leave. But if you want that kit to keep that leg of his, I can help."

Kieran's Pokemon looked back at his trembling form, before resigning to a nod. You turned your gaze to focus on the boy, who seemed to be on the verge of a heart attack.

"I can help you, young one."

He shook his head.

"Your leg. It is bleeding."

Hating the way his words failed him, he slowly nodded.

"If you do not let me help you, that will hurt more and it will get worse. You cannot get to a Pokemon Centre from here by yourself. Allow me to help you."

Grigar and Dipplin had returned to his side and offered their concerned support once again. Soothed very slightly by his Pokemon, Kieran swallowed the lump in his throat and slowly, he nodded.

You were careful with the kit. You took him first to your pack and used some natural resources to bandage the wound and stop the bleeding. You crafted a stilt to keep his leg from moving with some wooden crutches, and then you left him near the edge of the woods, near a centre, where his Pokemon could then aid him in getting him the rest of the way.

In that time, he'd asked you some questions.

"How long have you been out here?"

"Centuries."

"And...you don't ever get seen?"

"We do. Most of your kind is violent first without thinking. That lack of trust almost made me not help you. But to go as low as those who cross that line would be to prove them right."

"So...you helped me to prove them wrong?"

"No, young one. I helped you because it's the right thing to do, and you are only small."

He was tended to quickly when he was seen by his own kind. Questions were thrown at him without even so much as the minute it took to sit him down. "Who bandaged this? Where did you learn to make these crutches? How did you get back down here without encountering any more trouble?"

He looked back at where he could faintly see your outline. You were watching him to make sure he was safe.

"...I just did." He said, refusing to elaborate.

With a nod, you disappeared into the woods, and the boy never saw you again. He didn't need to. He had all the proof he needed, and it'd stay with him for the rest of his life.

He could feel you watching him sometimes, when he was exploring the plateau with his sister. But he never really saw more than a flickering trail of embers or a rogue tail swishing as you undoubtedly left for your pack.

Your protection made him smile.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Okay so first and foremost, where are Penny and Carmine??

To be completely honest, I didn't know how to write either of them in this situation! I felt that Penny would be much like a diluted version of Arven, and that Carmine would be almost identical to Nemona, and maybe it's just my brain but I couldn't figure how to articulate that. So my sincerest apologies for that.

Otherwise, I hope that this was a nice little read! I liked the idea of trying to figure out how to hybrid an incineroar with a human, and I found a lot more trouble in it than I initially thought I would!

Thank you so much for this request, it was a real mind boggler to be honest, but incredibly fun nonetheless.

Send me your requests in my inbox! Otherwise, ciao for now ♡

[atopvisenyashill]

Okay, so I just found out that apparently Alysanne was going to be Maegor's child in the original draft and I'm like what?! We were robbed! Like can you imagine the total irony of the most beloved queen being the daughter of the cruelest king? Why the hell would GRRM change this?

I haven't been getting notifications for my messages and i'm livid because I ALSO FEEL SO ROBBED OF THIS. It makes jaehaerys and alysanne infinitely more interesting to me - running off to incest marry the king that deposed your own murderous father, winning over the smallfolk by being really good at politics and making changes that actively affect their livelihood like abolishing prima noctus, the reaction to her at maidenpool being that she and her baby are "abominations", needing Jonquil Darke to protect her, building this huge family with this great king only for him to start forcing dangerous pregnancy after dangerous pregnancy on her, when he knows that's a sore spot because aly watched maegor rape half his wives to death and jaehaerys' own mother died in childbirth, Alysanne's deranged issues with projecting her childhood onto her daughters, until the daughter of the abomination is known as Good Queen Aly and the once beloved heir to Aenys is only ever known as the Old King Jaehaerys because ALY is the one that has always been good while Jaehaerys spent years showing everyone he may be kind to the smallfolk but he's just as tyrannical and monstrous to his family as Maegor ever was like IT'S DELICIOUS.

It also adds this insane level to the Alyssa-Rhaena-Alysanne relationship, like Alyssa attempting to protect young Alysanne without usurping her own daughter's claim, Rhaena growing resentful because Alysanne can escape Maegor's shadow by marrying the brother that should have been RHAENA'S to become Queen while Rhaena just drifts from home to home unable to cast off the taint that Maegor and Aenys and Aegon the Uncrowned have put on her, Alysanne watching in horrified silence as Rhaena chews Rogar out for putting Alyssa through a risky pregnancy while Jaehaerys is suspiciously silent, it's all just so delightfully fucked up.

I think he changed that aspect because he wanted to go deeper into the blood magic babies, the weird dragon babies, and Targaryen infertility issues, which is fair, but damn we really lost the superior story line because of that!

[thepenultimateword]

Old Bones Part Six

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

CW: Blood, cannibalism, abduction and being trapped, starving, death, undead description

Vampire smelt blood. Not the sweet or savory scents they were accustomed to, but a bland, metallic flavor that simply...existed.

Ah.

Their own.

As soon as they registered that truth, the lacerations on their ankles began to burn, sliced by the sharp edges of the snow as each step shattered the icy top layer.

Didn't matter. Run!

Footsteps crashed behind them.

But where next? They didn't know the way. They had not left Lav's cabin in weeks. And it was earlier in the morning than they'd originally thought. No later than 4 as the sun still hadn't come up. And it had begun to snow again.

"Vampire!"

Didn't matter. Run!

Anywhere. Anytime. Any place safe and lavender-scented and before all this happened.

Something heavy crashed into them from behind. The ice cut their cheek as they fell; a half-second later, their nose was filled with cold, stale powder. The weight lifted slightly as rough hands rolled them onto their back. Vampire blinked against the snow, making out a blur of red, and the weight plopped back on their chest.

“Vampire!"

"No, no, no!" Vampire warded them away with clawing hands, but the villager's beefy fists clasped them tight, drawing them in against their warm breast.

" It’s me! It’s me!" They kissed Vampire's knuckles. "It's Lav."

Vampire's eyes welled. "You don't-- You don't look like Lav. You don't... Your eyes...but not... What are you?"

The villager--Lav-- drew back as if slapped. Their yellow eyes drifted away from Vampire's face, fixing instead just past their shoulder. "Let me explain."

Vampire swallowed. Lav's grip had grown tight, almost painful. Worse because they couldn't seem to stop trembling, though, from the fear or the snow, they didn't know. "W-when you're done...can I go?"

Another slap. This time enough to make them drop Vampire's hands. "Yes. In fact...I've been quite expecting it. Should we go back to the house?"

Vampire shook their head rapidly. It felt like a trap. Walls they could be cornered against and kept behind. They couldn't imagine sitting down in the living room with that face across from them. They couldn't even make sense of what was going on. Was Lav even really their friend?

"Ok..." Lav said, shifting a little in the snow. Their new ruddy face was turning a bright shade of red in the cold, but they didn't even shudder. "You know I'm undead. Not like you though. You're beautiful. I'm... desecrated. You didn't have a choice in your transformation. And mine...well, it's only possible with some degree of choice."

"What are you?" Vampire said firmly, frankly tired of all this beating around the bush.

"I call myself an abomination. You'd call me a ghoul."

"A...ghoul?" Vampire blinked.

Lav thumbed away the cold dribble of blood rolling down their cheek. "You're smart. All those books. You've heard of ghouls."

Not a question, a certainty. And a correct one. Vampire had read about ghouls. They simply couldn't correlate the hideous illustrations from their books with the seeming human in front of them. The face they wore now may appear monstrous after last night, but If it weren't for those predatory eyes and the bone-chilling wrongness of their air, Vampire wouldn't have guessed anything supernatural about them.

Lav must have seen the recognition in their face and the wheels turning behind their eyes because they said, "What do you know?"

"Y-you live in graveyards," Vampire said. "You eat the dead."

"I eat the dead, true. As for the graveyard, it's more a hunting ground than a home. I much prefer my cabin. But I've never acquainted myself with another of my kind, so what do I know of others' habits. Anything else?"

Vampire shook their head. Since ghouls were apparently one of the less common creatures one could run into, the book hadn't dedicated much page space to them. And they weren't about to tell Lav the unflattering details of the entry's description. Especially when it had also offered no defenses.

"Ah." Lav's smile looked more like a grimace. "Then, unfortunately, I must be the one to give you the disturbing history of ghoulish birth."

Vampire grimaced. They weren't sure they wanted to know. There had to be a reason why Lav had kept it veiled for so long.

"I once told you my kind are not quite so simple as a bite. There are several parts to it. One, the moon: the process must last a full cycle, beginning and ending on a new moon. Two, the subject must willingly cannibalize. Three, the subject must die and with that death, make a choice: pass on permanently or return to life."

Vampire shuddered. Their death had been no picnic. Bloody. Nightmarish. Agonizing. But at least it had been quick. "So, y-you wanted to become a ghoul?"

Lav's eyes flashed. Vampire immediately shrank away, but Lav snatched them close again. It seemed meant as a comfort, but their digging grip and cold voice set Vampire's heart pounding.

"When I was 23 years old," Lav hissed in their ear. "I was abducted from my home and locked inside a tomb for thirty days. A sacrifice for a death god rumored to be plaguing our town. They were the cause of all their misfortunes, and my death would surely save them all in time for the next harvest. For four days, I starved in the dark, surrounded by the quiet dead. But, enough time passes, and anything begins looking like food. I survived on corpses' bones and spoiled flesh until the cold and the stomach sick killed me all on their own. But when the death god came for my soul, he gave me a choice. Most people don't know there's a choice. And that there's a reason almost no one chooses to stay.

"I didn't want to die. I had barely lived. I chose life. At first, it seemed like the right choice. I had escaped certain demise without consequences. Yes, something was wrong; anyone could tell that. Any extended amount of time with other people ended with their discomfort and avoidance. But I still looked like me. Sounded like me. Lived like me. And that was enough."

Lav's nails dug unconciously vicious into Vampire's shoulders. Vampire bit back a yelp. They leaned paralyzed on the again-stranger's chest, half frozen in horror, half captivated. Though Lav spoke rapidly, the words obviously came out with some difficulty. Any movement, any sound, seemed likely to send them back into silence.

Lav swallowed hard, throat bobbing against Vampire's resting head. "But I was dead. I couldn't stop the decay. Or the hunger. The craving for the things I had only eaten out of desperation before. My being twisted into something other, something monstrous. And soon enough...I was gone."

Vampire slowly pulled back, and Lav's hands slipped off them, settling in their own lap. They smiled vaguely at their snow-crusted knees, a sort of pasted-on, empty thing without any real feeling behind it. At least, not any of the good ones.

"So you...the real you..." Vampire trailed off, not exactly sure how to finish the question. It seemed insensitive to pry after such a confession. And yet so many questions churned in their head. Did Lav have a body? Were they a spirit that took others' bodies? What did Lav really look like?

Luckily, Lav seemed to understand where the thought was going.

"There's nothing left of me but old bones."

"Ah."

They couldn’t think of another response. This was all happening so fast. A few hours ago they were almost killed. A few hours ago Lav saved their life in a horrifying display. And now all this… Did they care that Lav had changed?

"I can shift my shape into the last human I consumed," Lav continued. "A facade for myself as much as others. I've done it enough times for it to have become commonplace, but each one still takes some getting used to. However, this body...was a less-than-savory choice."

Vampire cocked their head. Did a difference in appearance even count as a real change? They were still the same person. Even with this bulkier body, their mannerisms hadn't changed. The delicate way they folded their hands. The elegant tone of speech, so different from the villager’s harsh voice at the door last night.

Lav mistook their thoughtful look for further inquiry and rushed on. "I mostly survive on animal flesh, but every few months I must eat something human or I fall ill...as you witnessed yourself. I grew too weak on the way to the cemetery, and I needed to return to you...so I did what I must. It made you terribly uncomfortable. For that, I'm sorry."

Yesterday's conversation drifted back to them.

'Should you be getting fevers?'

'Sometimes. I’ve put something off too long, that’s all.'

So that's what they had been referring to. A few months, huh? Vampire had been with them for a few weeks, so they must have had their other form for a while. Had they been refraining for Vampire's sake? But why? They'd never hidden the fact that they ate things outside of Vampire's own comfort zone.

"So the way you looked before...when we met..."

"A traveling noble."

Vampire grimaced involuntarily.

"You don't need to look at me that way; I wasn't the one who killed them. I don't kill any of them if I can help it. From the looks of the carriage and the body, it was bandits. But who was I to waste a fresh body?"

"Why didn't you tell me? Why did you let yourself fall ill?"

Lav's shoulder sank, and they folded their arms tight against their chest. For truly the first time since they'd met, they seemed small. "Because I've been alone so long. And you were the first person who ever chose to stay. Even if it was out of convenience. With you around, I could pretend I was normal, like a real host with a real guest who both really enjoyed each other's company. I knew once the truth was out, you would want to leave, and I... I just wanted to pretend a little longer."

Vampire paused. The immediate denial of Lav's words dying on their tongue. They had run. And they had wanted to leave. And part of that had been because of Lav's choice of body, but the rest... They couldn't deny that a part of them had recognized Lav immediately. And they'd still run. Maybe had even been looking for excuses to do so. Lav was easy to love when they were making tea or dozing on the sofa. It was a whole different story when they were ripping people apart. Or when they looked like something Vampire had decided they shouldn't. It was the wrongness that made them run. The predator part of their friend that their instincts had always told them to flee from.

They could keep ignoring it or...

"Lav...can I see you?"

The ghoul's yellow eyes flicked unblinkingly to their own. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"I don't care. I...I want to see you. The real you. I think I have to."

If they didn't, it would keep eating at them. They'd always know they were only pretending to accept what they refused to even see. And the distrust would curdle any remains of their relationship.

Lav wet their lips. For a long while, they were quiet, the only sounds the ghostly whistle of the wind through the naked trees and the creaking of the branches as they became overladen with snow. Vampire expected them to refuse again when they said, "Can I ask one thing?"

Vampire nodded.

"Don't run. I want to say goodbye properly."

Vampire's heart skipped an uncertain beat, but they nodded again. "I won't run."

Lav rose brusquely to their feet, thoroughly patting themselves off and taking a long, deep breath.

Vampire's chest tightened. They only knew they were breathing from the faint cloud puffing in front of their face. They gripped the snow on either side of them in handfuls the icy bite grounding them just enough to keep them still.

Lav gave Vampire one last mournful glance and squeezed their eyes shut. Then their face began to melt.

Freckles and hair and ruddy skin, it all dripped away like candle wax. There was no blood or terrible cracking of bone Vampire had imagined in shapeshifting; it was liquid illusion, wet watercolor running off the page, exposing the pale paper beneath.

Vampire bit back their gasp, but a strangled whimper still escaped through their teeth.

The creature was ghastly. A skeletal thing with only dried sinews holding them together. Their tunic, once pulled taught against a broad chest, now hung like drapes off their bony frame. Exposed teeth trapped their expression in an eerie eternal grin, while their yellow eyes, bigger without lids, seemed to roll in their sockets as they looked to Vampire for a reaction.

Run.

The thought wasn't so much verbal as it was a visceral reaction.

Vampire slowly rose, legs shaking.

The creature shielded their face with a grayed hand, nails discomfortingly long and claw-like

Run.

Their instincts had always been wary around Lav, but now they were screaming.

Run!

Vampire stepped forward.

The snow had deepened since the start of their conversation, and with their legs already unsteady, the drift immediately tripped them. Lav lurched forward, catching them in cadaverous arms. In turn, Vampire slid up their hands to hold their desiccated face.

It was much colder and stiffer than while tending their fever, but Vampire stroked the raw cheekbones and haggard brow. So terrible. So familiar. They knew these bones.

"Vampire--"

"I'll stay with you."

Lav's breath hitched. Immediately, they were fleshy and warm again, buried in Vampire's neck in a fit of stifled sobs. Vampire could have gone longer; they didn't think they'd made any hint for them return to a living guise. Maybe Lav was the one uncomfortable in their own skin.

Vampire ran their fingers through the stolen red hair. "But we can't stay here."

Lav spoke muffled into their shoulder. "I'll keep you safe. If we stay in the cabin--"

Vampire forced Lav's face toward them. "Three villagers gone missing after visiting your house? They'll come investigating. And they'll find the bodies soon enough." They squirmed a little. "...Whatever you've done with them. We can't fight them all. And I don't want to. I don't think you do either."

Lav opened their mouth, eyes roiling with a surge of emotions, but the protest died on their lips.

"You can't travel in the day," they said instead.

"They'll be back before nightfall. I'll...I'll wrap up tight."

Lav frowned.

"Besides, it's winter," Vampire rushed. "The sun doesn't rise for a few more hours. Maybe we can at least get the other edge of the wood before they come looking. Find a tavern or inn to hide out in until nightfall."

"And then?" Lav said.

Vampire's brain stuttered to a stop. What was next? They'd barely survived here, and what they had managed had been mostly from hiding. Not much chance of that on the open road. But there would be more information available. More rumors. More people, maybe the inhuman variety.

"Find a clan," they said more firmly than they felt. "For the both of us.

Lav mouth pulled into a skeptical line, but they simply pulled the collar of Vampire's tunic closer around their throat. "We can talk more inside. You're not going anywhere until you've warmed up."

Vampire was suddenly aware of their aching toes, bare and several feet deep in snow. The wind whipped their cheeks and snuck up their shirt sleeves, prompting a violent shiver.

Lav hoisted them into their arms. "You really are the strangest vampire I've ever met."

"H-hey!"

"Darling, I chased you all the way out here; I'm not chasing you home."

Vampire stuttered incoherently but eventually settled tiredly against their brawny chest. They’d been through too many traumatic things in the last 24 hours, and having Lav so close was steadying, even if their outer packaging still unsettled them. They closed their eyes and concentrated on what they could feel beneath the skin, ribs, sternum, collarbones, shoulders…

They could get used to old bones.

Part Seven

Me after finishing this section:

I know it’s not the typical attractive love interest love story, but I think it’s important for Vampire to love Lav for who and what they truly are even if it’s ugly. And it not like they’re suddenly completely ok with it all either, more they’re comfortable enough with it at the moment to move forward. They’re still going to have to accustom to the idea that the physical attraction they’ve had up to this point has all been fake. And they’re going to have to be ok with an ever changing appearance and be confident in their love for what’s on the inside. Anyway, as I finished up this section I was thinking, “this might come off kinda weird for some people” but I enjoyed writing it so that’s what matters haha

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees-deactivated @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolax @pksnowie @blessupblessup @wolfeyedwitch @thedeepvoidinmyheart @cornflower-cowboy @bestblob @a-chaotic-gremlin @espresso-depresso-system @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills @paleassprince @takingawildbreath @yindo @psychiclibrariesquotestoad @harpycartoons @pickleking8 @urmyhopeeee @goldenflame2516 @tobeornottobeateacher @talesofurbania1 @sweetsigyn

[trifling-victories]

DDMonth Day 11 - Beast

Summary: The houndmaster takes a gentler approach to Bigby's forced transformations.

-

On this gibbous moon night, something unusual happened in the hamlet barracks. Not that those nights were normal to begin with, given the transformation the moon forced on the heroes’ most monstrous team member. It put the creature in full control, with no shared thoughts to lend it any sense of Bigby’s reasoning. Chaining himself up in the cellar before he turned was the only way he felt it could be managed.

Bigby would tout the beast’s nature during his unwilling episodes as totally unpredictable, making it far more dangerous than usual and absolutely feral, so imagine the surprise of all parties involved seeing it with its head on William’s lap in the common room this time.

The earlier sound of chains snapping underneath the floorboards was enough to awaken most in the barracks. William was the unfortunate volunteer sent to investigate the eerie silence that followed. Armed only with his bite glove and cudgel, he descended the cellar stairs to discover the creature exhausted and injured. There was a difference between the chains its host body wore and the ones that just restrained it to the wall. Breaking loose was no easy affair.

The metal edges of the cuff its stunted wrist failed to break had cut deeply into the flesh underneath. It listened, albeit grumpily, to William’s scolding at its attempt to lick and chew the pain away. That’s when he got the idea to bring it back up the stairs for treatment.

So many times, a rehabilitation project was brought to the old kennel Fergus once called home. William was almost always responsible for the dogs that arrived in sorry, snarling states.There were far too many masters who didn’t understand that attack hounds needed ferocity and gentle loyalty fostered in equal measure. Knowing what little he did about Bigby’s tormented past, he wondered if some of his experience healing those damaged dogs might help now.

The creature wasn’t a dog, but it wasn’t entirely dissimilar to a dog. It was easily bribed into following him up the stairs with a stale treat leftover in his pocket. Convincing the others to go along with his plan was the hardest part. In the common room, he got a fire going in the hearth, fetched a roll of bandages, and gently cleaned and wrapped its wounded wrist while it was busy devouring that treat.

Abused dogs needed to have a safe place. The cellar certainly wasn’t that for Bigby. They needed safe people, too, and the prior relationships Bigby was building thankfully made it easy to assert himself as trustworthy. 

The others, in all sorts of blends of nightclothes, armor, and weapons, waited with bated breath outside for things to go wrong. Except, nothing did. Eyes peeking from around the corner witnessed the thing their companion called ‘the worst version of himself’ flop onto the rug and roll around. Content. After it got the scent of the cellar off, that’s when it plopped its heavy head on the houndmaster’s thigh. It was the same spot Fergus so typically rested her own snout on.

‘Unpredictable’ was a correct assessment of the abomination’s current state. Nobody would’ve ever predicted it curling up for a cuddle.

William’s hand slowly drifted down to pet the spot between its horns. The hair was thick and rough, almost like a bear’s, and his skin was covered in a fine, velvety sort of fuzz. His touch brought a long, loud sigh from the creature.

“Huh. You really tired yourself out, didn’t you?”

A few moments after it settled in, Boudica crept around from her hiding place. She was in a gown, one she only wore after multiple complaints about her walking around half-naked at night. Her hair was down, and in her hands was her glaive, though on approach, she was quick to set the weapon aside. “He seems smaller to me like this,” she pointed out with an uncharacteristically quiet tone.

“You’re used to seeing him in a scrap. That’s when his hackles are up.” William gestured for her to come closer. “I think he’s safe, relatively speaking. There’s not enough in him tonight for a rampage. Just don’t move too suddenly, or shout, anything like that. Make sure he can see you.”

Faced with its—no, his unfamiliar behavior, Boudica almost looked smaller herself. She sat between the pair and the fire, watching him curiously.

“Do you want to pet him?” William asked. Her eyes sparked with interest. Boudica was always so happy to lavish her affection on his hound.

“Will he not bite?”

“I don’t think so. He knows you. I think he knows you won’t hurt him. Look, you came near, and his breathing hasn’t changed. His ears are up, alert, but they’re not pinned back. I’ll watch him. If he starts getting stressed out, I’ll tell you to back off.”

The hellion reached out. Her fingertips soon grazed the bridge of his snout, where they remained for a moment like she was waiting for him to snap her hand right off. Soon, however, she relaxed. Her palm pressed itself flat against his face, and she rubbed gently up and down. The creature tilted his head up ever so slightly into the contact.

“Would you look at that?” She was breathless. A grin spread across her face from ear to ear. “I don’t understand. Our friend here tells us that the moon makes him as dangerous as he can possibly be, and when he’s chained up, we all have to hear him thrash his way through the night! Now that he has his freedom, why isn’t he off running amok?” 

“I thought about that. Got me thinking that he’s set himself up for some self-fulfilling prophecy.” William pat the creature’s massive shoulder sympathetically. “He gets so scared of what he might do that he chains himself up, then he transforms, and the beast wakes up in a position that harkens back to the worst days of his life. When he’s back to being human, he remembers the way he fought and struggled to get loose, and his fears about being uncontrollable seem to be confirmed. I’m the kind of person that likes to think that a man knows himself best, but I ought to talk to him about a better solution for these nights.”

The bandages would have to be changed when he returned to normal, anyway. For now, William would make sure to keep him calm and comforted. No, he wasn’t a dog, but he was enough like one for him to handle.

Boudica changed her focus to scratch behind one of Bigby’s ears the way she knew Fergus liked, which made him growl—-or, not quite growl. It was close enough to a growl that William nearly jumped out of his skin, but the sound was lower, and unaccompanied by even the most remote sign of aggression. Though he couldn’t piece together what exactly the creature was doing, it clicked with Boudica right away.

With her volume barely contained to an indoor level, she gleefully explained, “He’s purring!”

Not a dog at all. Hopefully any bruises to Bigby’s ego caused by his other half tonight were preferable to the usual memories of panic and flailing he usually woke up with.

[basket-of-cats-and-witches]

Tidbit Tuesdays: And We're Back

*slides in with a coffee and sunglasses to hide the dark circles under my eyes*

It hasn't been two weeks since I posted, I don't know what you're talking about.

Anyway, an emergency root canal, a crown, and quite a lot of money later, I'm back on my LaDs grind. Truth be told on top of everything else, I'm going through writer's block, so WIPs is just about all I've got.

Can't commit to anything, like my teeth can't commit to my mouth.

If you've survived this rambling, bless. This week's WIPs are just a random assortment of things. And if you're new here, this is where I post things I'm proud of, just generally like, or am currently working on.

If you enjoy this (or just generally appreciate people) please leave a like or a reblog! It lets me know people like what I'm doing, and encourages me to keep writing!

---

Notes: first up is Zayne and Kiri, my MC. I recently finished catching up on the new (!!!) main storyline additions, so this is your spoiler warning before I continue.

I loved where the story went, and so decided to do a "what if" in which Kiri temporarily has her memory restructured by the Protofield and the Myst, dropped into a dreamscape that reflects Dreamwalker's world.

It's fun. It's SUPER fun. I should get back to it soon.

❄️❄️❄️

Kiri’s day ended like this:

Akso hospital had strict regimented shifts to combat the constant wave of abominations. At the end of hers, she got scanned, tested, and questioned before she was allowed to leave. A pair of military men in uniforms escorted her down out of the hospital campus, waiting with her until someone could come pick her up.

They never needed to wait long.

Zayne was almost always perfectly on time.

The black silhouette appeared silently through the thick mist, her escorts tensing before realizing who it was. She patted one on the shoulder, saying her goodbyes before stepping forward.

Her hand found Zayne's before she'd even said a word.

“How was work?” He murmured. In his other hand were groceries, the plastic sack sagging with the weight.

Kiri sighed, pulling her hair loose from its bun. “Long,” she replied. “Three more cases today. The ACU ward is overflowing already, and Chansia hospital can't take anymore. They're bursting at the seams.” She leaned into him, her pink scrubs brushing against the wool of his coat.

He frowned at her. “You took your jacket this morning. Where is it?”

“Hm?” Kiri blinked in surprise. “Oh. Someone needed it more than I did.” She smiled at his exasperated sigh, tugging on his sleeve. “Come on. I have you to keep me warm, don't I?”

Zayne shook his head, a slight smile forcing its way through his irritation. “Still. The nurse can't help people if she gets sick, can she? Your health has to come first.”

She hummed, neither agreeing nor denying it. He huffed in response. “Let's go home, my moon.”

Kiri had worked at Akso hospital as long as she could remember. She'd graduated top of her class, with perfect marks, and settled easily into her new life. Work in the Abominations Containment Unit was intense, and it seemed her coworkers were on a revolving door roster. Few people stayed as long as she did, with cases increasing every day.

It was at some point during that that she met Zayne.

A former patient of hers had cornered her in an alley, begging for help before turning into an awful, monstrous thing.

A sudden explosion of black ice had been her saving grace.

The man in black had vanished as quickly as he'd appeared, and, well…

As if following a thread of fate itself, she chased after him.

It was unconscionable for a nurse and someone like him to fall in together. Kiri was well aware she was breaking the code of ethics, not to mention the oaths she'd taken.

Yet here they were.

It felt like it had been forever since they'd gotten together.

It felt like it had been no time at all.

❄️❄️❄️

Notes: This one's been in the mental WIP for a while. I usually let ideas ferment in my head for a while before I bake them into fics, like a good sourdough.

This one focuses on Kit and Sylus, Kit being his second in command and NOT the MC. If you've been here a while, you know her. Anyway, I wanted to do a "what if Kit got hurt" thing, and as usual, they can't help bantering even when she's been stabbed. Go figure.

Fair warning, this one does feature some gruesome imagery. Not a lot though.

🐦‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐦‍⬛🐈‍⬛

The remains of the building shuddered, dust and sheetrock crumbling down. Sylus ran his flashlight over the rubble, keeping an ear out for any voices.

“Keep a low profile,” he murmured to the twins. “It's not just Kit that might be down here.”

The twins nodded firmly.

The building was a winding, gray mess, shadowed corners scurrying away at each sweep of the flashlights. Every once in a while, they would have to make a wide berth around slowly seeping pools of red, checking the remains for identification.

So far, there were only strangers.

“Fan out,” Sylus murmured. “We'll get more coverage that way.”

The twins and the other men he brought along nodded, splitting up into groups of two. All of them had radios, but it was a shot in the dark whether they would keep working in the lingering metaflux.

It was eerily quiet down here.

The rubble blocked all outside noises, leaving nothing but the occasional whisper of dust or the clatter of stone.

At last, he came to a room that was nearly intact.

It appeared to be a lab, the viewing windows completely shattered. A single threadbare bulb struggled to stay lit, swinging to and fro as it flickered dangerously.

Sylus carefully stepped inside, his feet crunching softly on the broken glass.

A body lay inside, the head twisted unnaturally. A badge on the lab coat proclaimed this to be someone who worked in the building.

The position of their hand was odd, and he leaned closer to examine it. There were faint marks to indicate they'd tightly gripped something before they died.

A second later, his instincts screamed for him to move, and he rolled out of the way, just as someone dropped down from a ceiling panel.

He swiftly got to his feet, ducking left as a shot fired, cutting through his jacket. With a lunge forward, he slammed his hand down, disarming his opponent.

A blade kissed his throat from their other hand, and he looked down into the cold, wild eyes of Kit.

“It's me, sweetie,” he said breathlessly.

Kit blinked. Her hair was messy and dusty, falling out of its usual braid. She held herself strangely, almost curling forward as she gripped the blade.

“Prove it,” she snapped.

Red mist yanked the blade from her grasp, pulling her into his arms. Sylus let just enough power through to make his eye glow without invading her thoughts. “How's that?”

She hissed in pain, grabbing his jacket to steady herself. “That works,” she grit out. “Someone had a doppelganger evol here. They looked like Evan, our diagnostics head.”

Sylus swore, thinking of the nervous man he'd spoken to before. “He might have made it out. I just spoke to Evan before we entered. Are you alright?”

Kit shook her head. “Took a piece of rebar to the side. I didn't have the luxury of keeping it stuck in there, there were people trying to kill me. How did you of all people not notice Evan?”

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Occasionally things do escape me, kitten. It's harder to tell when the man in question is always sweating like he's in a sauna.” He glanced at her sidelong. “Speaking of, you bring up a good point. What's to say you aren't a doppelganger? A good one, but one nonetheless.”

She reared back, offended. “Excuse you! Are you implying my fighting is on the level of any average person?”

Sylus smirked. “Your ability with firearms does leave something to be desired.”

“You motherfu- eep!” Kit squeaked as Sylus picked her up, his arm settling neatly under her bottom. She clung to his shoulders as a scarlet flush swept across her skin.

He chuckled. “There's that beautiful full-body blush. No imposter after all.”

“If I survive this,” Kit snapped, “I'm going to do my best to choke you out.”

“I look forward to it.” He stepped out of the room, grabbing his radio. “Twins, can you read me?”

The radio crackled for a moment before a reply came through. “Loud and clear, boss. Has mama bird been located?”

“I take it back,” Kit muttered. “I'm killing them first, and then you.”

Sylus smiled at that. “Mama bird is with me, yes,” he replied, his eyes crinkling at the murderous glare she shot his direction. “We're exiting the building now. Withdraw and rendezvous at South Tower.”

🐦‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐦‍⬛🐈‍⬛

Note: Ahahaha. Our last one is Omegaverse. That's flustering and fun. This one's less suggestive, mostly due to the fact that I was jotting down headcanons for Omegaverse AU and it turned into mini fics. So this one is Zayne and Kiri.

❄️❄️❄️

For some reason, the universe decides to bless Kiri with the worst possible heat to go along with her myriad of health problems.

In the week leading up to it, she feels exhausted and sick, throwing up food easily and sleeping poorly.

Previous doctors have told her that it's because she has an extremely high hormone production rate, and it means she's extra fertile.

That she should be grateful.

She had to hold herself back from strangling them.

It also means she can't take suppressants.

Zayne, at least, is sympathetic. Even long before they begin a relationship, he reaches out through his connections to find her hormone specialists, people who can help her manage her symptoms.

And after they start dating, well.

He spoils her rotten.

Zayne can only really take the week of her heat off, with how vital he is to operations in Akso Hospital. However, the clean house, fresh linens, and hot food he gets for her goes a long way towards helping.

She always tries to protest his help after his shift is over, stating that he already works enough.

He just does it anyway. All her plushies get scented, her favorite pastries are bought, and her extra expensive jar of tea is left out by a new mug on the kitchen island.

She could just cry from how sweet he is.

When her heat strikes, it's similar.

Kiri becomes very particular about her nest, only choosing the most recent articles of clothing he's worn. She gets exhausted very quickly, and Zayne purchases scent blocking candles to light throughout the entire apartment.

(He's seriously considering how much it would be to get a house outside of the city. If he catches another Alpha lingering at his doorstep or below his balcony window, he's going to break his doctor's oaths on purpose)

❄️❄️❄️

Thanks for reading, and have a good Tuesday!

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

tagged by @henbased and @marivenah for some wip goodness (thank you beloveds)

tagging: @cloudofbutterflies92 @aceghosts @galaxycunt @ocdemon-747 @unholymilf @wrathfulrook @amalkavian @fourlittleseedlings @harmonyowl @mccarthycormac @mxanigel @madparadoxum @carlosoliveiraa @confidentandgood @afarcry5fromstraight @nightbloodbix @roofgeese @inafieldofdaisies @voidika @kyber-infinitygems @clicheantagonist @adelaidedrubman @strafethesesinners @statichvm @peppertheferalraccoon @josephslittledeputy @simplegenius042 @theelderhazelnut @josephseedismyfather @v0idbuggy @direwombat @florbelles @poetikat @cassieuncaged @shallow-gravy @cassietrn @strangefable @stacispratt (no pressure of course)

writing tag list here to be added/removed

well i'm back with some of chapter 51 of American Beasts. It's Kit and the kiddos again. I've shared little snippets of this here and there, but this is a bit more cohesive:

“You’re not our mom!”

Her jaw tightened on reflex, her brows knitting together to meet with the lines that creased there. She took a deep breath, crossing her arms over her chest. “I know that,” she muttered. 

“So then just leave us alone.”

“I can’t,” her voice broke into a soft whisper. “Please, let me take care of you.”

A little chubby hand reached out from under the bed and gripped onto the toe of Kit’s boot, fingertips stained with blood from when the little girl had held her earlier. She lowered to her knees, dropping down to her hands to look at the faces of the children. Placing her hand on top of Quinn’s, and stroking the toddler’s hand with her thumb. The frozen chill on the child’s skin mellowing her, making her heart ache.

She couldn’t bear the thought of becoming what her father had been to her as a child. Someone to fear rather than respect. A God whose love and mercy she had never received. Kindness never shown. They didn’t deserve that life, she wasn’t so sure even she did.

“Please?” She begged Carter, pleading with a child as she sat bent over in supplication. Her piercing stare turned glassy as she looked at the little boy. “Please come out,” she whispered, her voice trembling and weak as if she were praying for an angel’s assistance in her hour of need. “Please, I promise I can be better.”

Kit wasn’t sure why she said it or who exactly she was saying it to. Was it a promise to herself, to the children, to God? Or some version of the future she so desperately clung to, the one where everything would turn out for the better, where the man she needed lived and there was hope and light at the end of the tunnel and not just more darkness – never ending and all consuming.

“Please.” Her eyes flitted over the boy’s face, desperation sinking into her. There had to be some version of this scenario where things worked. God wouldn’t have sent her here just to have it all go wrong again, he wasn’t even that cruel to Abraham. 

Carter sighed and started to crawl out, while Quinn stretched out her arms the way an infant would when it was desperate to be held, letting herself be swung up into Kit’s waiting arms to be cradled against her chest.  Kit’s heart beat faster as she held Quinn tight to her and looked between both of the children. “I know that you’ve had your heads filled with stories about me and the family. But I swear to you, I swear to you both I will protect you with every last breath in my body if you just trust me. Please, come outside, come with me back home, come with me where I can keep you safe. Safe and protected…innocent and pure.”

Safe.

Repeating the word over and over, reminding herself she didn’t have to be that monstrous thing, that abomination that took the lives of those who had yet to even live. She could be trusted, she could be good. She wasn’t bad. She was good. God, she swore she could be good. If not for her, she’d do it for them. 

Her hands shook as she clung to the toddler in her arms, leading the two children outside where vehicles waited and bodies lay scattered on the ground. Death had followed them up into the mountains, to where refuge was meant to keep them protected from the violence of the cult. Guttural moans and the last cries of pain shouted out before being silenced forever echoed up into the canopy above, but Kit remained unfazed. The mysterious woman who’d come to find them was unshaken by the horror, standing silhouetted by the lights of the truck, basked in darkness except for the halo that surrounded her body.

As Kit placed Quinn back down on the ground beside her brother, Carter was quick to wrap his sister in his arms. Staring out at the faces of men with stringy hair, and unkempt beards, their clothes tattered and worn, some of them even marked upon their foreheads by the cross of the Project, he did his best to stay brave, watching them move around the grounds of his family home with weapons in their hands. 

Kit’s void-like stare focused on how his eyes traveled over the members of the hunting parties that had come to find her, refusing to let fear overcome him. He was strong, there was no denying that fact. “Don’t look at them, okay? Look at me, Carter,” she cooed. His dark eyes falling back to meet hers. “I can’t in good conscience leave you and your sister here alone. You’re starving, you’re cold. You’re babies. You’ve done a great job keeping yourselves alive, but you can’t live on bread and peanut butter alone.”

“We’re not going anywhere with you. We’re not gonna be doctornated.”

She kneeled down once more, no longer towering above them, they were eye to eye. Equals. Bathed in the headlights, she looked even more the angel before him, red hair shining with gold, totally illuminated as she held out her hand towards him, palm facing upwards. “You can trust me. No harm will ever come to you. As long as I’m alive no one will ever lay a finger on you or your sister.”

Carter froze, his eyes ticking back and forth as he questioned everything he was taught and what he knew. But his answer didn’t matter, not as Quinn stepped forward and placed her little hand in Kit’s, looking up at the woman with giant brown eyes. 

“Quinn! Get back here.” He reached out for his sister, but it didn’t matter, she’d already made her choice. “We can’t, Quinny.”

Chin hugging waves of brown hair fluttered over the little girl’s shoulder as she turned to look at her brother. “Don’t wanna stay.” Climbing Kit like a koala, the little girl locked her arms and legs around the redhead’s torso. “Take us home,” she whispered, nuzzling her head against Kit’s wounded chest.  

Swallowing heavily, looking down at the little bundle in pink fleece pajamas, warmth spread throughout her again like a light that shone from the little girl into her. Stroking her hand through the girl’s soft curls, for a brief moment she leaned down and sniffed Quinn’s head, breathing in the scent of her until Kit’s lungs were filled to the brim. 

Holding out her hand towards Carter, Kit gave him a gentle smile. “I’m not leaving you behind. You and your sister are a package deal. I intend to keep it that way.”

“I’m not joining the cult.”

“No one said you have to.”

Carter’s eyes lowered from hers, his focus turning to her hand. Standing there, arguing with himself in his head. The same indomitable will she had, one that refused to give up without a fight. She was already swelling with pride about him. 

“I’m not trying to replace your mom and dad, I’m just trying to keep you alive.”

“Why?”

Her eyes teared up, choking back the guilt that had weighed on her for so long. Biting back on the fear and the anger and all the nightmares that had plagued her for years. Those dark brown eyes that watched her from the dark recesses, staring out blankly, empty – haunting her. Kit’s voice was a hoarse croak as she spoke, “I’ve made my mistakes. I hurt people. Innocent people. I can’t have you on my conscience too.”

His eyes fell, face filled with concern, and then without another word, he stepped forward and took her hand. Her fingers clasped to his and she tilted her head, not quite believing it had really happened. A nervous smile curled her lips as she stood and led them towards the waiting vehicles.

[colossal-fallout]

Paladin Danse 11 & 9 for fem!Reader please!

Event:

11 - Praise Kink & 9 - Hotel

Warnings ⚠️ Smut. NSFW.

Danse flicks his eyes up to the sky, the orange glow of twilight quietly seeping into the blue was a sure sign it was starting to get late. Sweat beaded on his furrowed brow, knowing where he was and where the nearest hotel was, he was not impressed in the slightest.

Elder Maxson has ordered the two of you to clear out the super mutants that had claimed their home upon a major supply line running between Diamond City and ...Goodneighbour. Cringing at the thought, he glanced his deep eyes in your direction as you finished off the last abomination with ease. He mulled over ideas in his head, but no, the safest option would be to head into that town that reeks of garbage and is full of ghouls.

"Well done." His head nods with approval as you strut towards him casually, your beautiful form being tightly hugged by your Brotherhood uniform. "Its getting late. We should turn in, to the nearest settlement."

"Right." You nod in agreement, slightly out of breath from your killing spree. You begin taking in your surroundings. "Hotel Rexford it is."

*

You notice Dance is stiff lipped the entire time, from when you see the flashing neon sign to checking into the ancient hotel. You know he tries. Tries his damned hardest. But he's had years of conditioning, he's conditioned to hate any and all ghouls. Any synthetic human and anything deemed "unclean". Its going to take time, education and patience to get him to accept, not only those different from yourselves, but your friends too. Nick. Hancock. Heck, even Strong has been growing on you recently.

You place your weapons down on top of the clothes chest once you reach the room, the sound of Danse clanking behind you, stopping as he closes the door, the hydronic hiss of his power armour opening up to give him freedom from his metal body.

You don't even have time to turn around when you feel his hands snake around your waist and up to your breasts, his deep panting hot in your ear.

"I've been waiting for this all day..." He mumbles into your neck as his lips close in, his tongue tasting your flesh.

Your body instantly heats up.

When you first started being romantic with the paladin, he was like a lost little boy. He had no idea how to act or what to do.

But now?

Now?

Now, he's had a taste. It fuelled an appetite. A deep, primal hunger where it was impossible to keep his hands off you. Danse is a greedy man when it comes to your body. He loves you for many reasons but sexually, nothing turns him on more than knowing how perfect you are. You're untainted from radiation, being from the pre war era; you are the epitome of clean.

His fingers now pull down at the zip of your suit, his panting getting more heavy from each slow tearing sound.

You head almost spins as all your blood rushes quickly down to your sex, his solid barrel chest pressing against your back.

Back on the Prydwen, it was near impossible for the two of you to be intimate. It was always too busy. People in and out, needing your Paladin for certain tasks, permissions and paperwork. The Brotherhood never sleeps; there's always shift rotations to ensure there are plenty of tasks to be completed.

So you bet your bottom cap that when you were both deployed on a mission, you were both elated to spend some time alone, even if it meant waiting until the mission was done.

With a groan of impatience, Danse brings his left arm up over your shoulder, not wanting to let go of you, as his teeth grip his glove, pulling his skin free of any barrier between your now open suit and his hungry palms.

"You smell so good..." His moan into your neck rumbles you, his bare hand now in your suit and down your shirt, your breast being groped and rolled in his paw. You feel his monstrous hard cock pressing against your lower back, his hips rocking gently as he craves your friction. Danse's calloused fingers feel delightfully rough as he pulls on your nipple, his free hand now pulling down your suit, past your shoulders and to your waist. The same hand grabs your waist firmly, pulling you harder against his solid frame.

You're melting like butter at his affections, folding and collapsing into a haze of lust.

Danse isn't just lustful when he fucks you. He's so loving. He loves you, so much.

Your name escapes his lips in a fogged breath, your form trapped between the clothes chest and himself.

"D-Danse..." you stammer in reply, all control of yourself thrown out of the window.

"Gorgeous." He whispers as he spins you around. "So gorgeous..."

His lips press against yours, his tongue sliding into your mouth, invading, prodding and tasting. His brows are arched and desperate, his stubble rubbing against your mouth as he kisses you deeply.

Your suit falls from your waist to your ankles, and he doesn't waste any time picking you up out of your crumpled clothing on the floor, and sitting you upon the other chest.

He's starving for you, his kisses getting more urgent and his beautiful dark eyes becoming glazed with lust. His cock throbs painfully within his suit as your fingers run through his thick, obsidian hair.

"You're perfect... and you're all mine." He whispers with the same amount of authority he does with his soldiers.

Your back arches and you cry out loud when he suddenly moves his mouth down to your wet slit, his warm, textured tongue licking its length.

Your thighs lock him into place and your fingers grasp at his hair as his tongue relentlessly flicks over your clit, your hips rocking into him.

He hums into you, the vibration of his deep vocal chords only increasing the immense pleasure that's washing over you in waves.

His rough facial hair feels divine in contrast to the target of pleasure he's hitting with his tongue, over and over again.

"You're so good at that..." you hiss, legs trembling.

His eyes flick up and lock onto yours as he works you. You were the one who taught him, after all.

"Oh Danse..." you breathe, the sight of his chocolate eyes from between your legs only helping your building pleasure build up to that sweet snap.

He can't take much more.

He continues lapping you like a starved puppy and begins to unzip his orange jumpsuit, his muscular chest, broad shoulders and strong back coming into your view.

"D-danse... I... ah... oh..."

He smirks into you as your orgasm springs into life, your body tumbling down the rabbit hole of ecstacy and sin. It's been a good few weeks since your last, and this one was making up for lost time as your vision fades and eyes roll, exploding and yet imploding simultaneously.

"You deserve everything..." He pants gently as you slowly come back to life. His own lust has now totally taken over, revealing his bare kinks. His pupils are dilated as he gets to his feet, grabbing the base of his cock and pushing the head of it just in and put of your spasming, warm entrance.

"G-god..." He stammers at the feeling of you.

His free hand runs through your hair before grabbing the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss. At the same time, he pushes his full length into you, both groaning into the others mouth.

He begins to roll his hips in a slow, yet firm rhythm, gazing into your eyes behind his heavy lids. You're both so far gone, you don't even notice the clothes chest banging off the wall.

You see his bare back and ass in the broken mirror that was upon the opposite wall, your senses being overloaded with stimulation. The muscles moving under his skin with every thrust.

"You're my queen" He whispers into your ear, in-between nibbles of it. "Let me pleasure you. Let me fuck you, whenever you need it."

This was the only time he really cursed. And it was so hot.

You can only gasp in return, the relentless pushings of his dick taking away most of your cognitive abilities.

"My dick is yours to use, to sit on, whenever you'd like." He offers with a smirk, his lust taking him to a different level of his personality. One that was buried deep in his primal DNA.

"So, perfect. You're perfect, y/n..."

He suddenly picks you up, his cock still pulsing within your insides as he places you on the bed and crawls over you, your knees being pushed up to your head as he slides in even deeper.

"Look at those beautiful breasts bounce with my thrusts..." He pants, totally enamoured by you. "You're so soft, so precious, yet so strong... I... ahh..." His pace picks up as well as the strength of his movements. "So clean... so pure... Good girl. You feel so good for me. You milk my dick so good."

His lips find yours, his groans increasing in pitch and frequency.

"Use me at your will." He begs, his grip on your skin tightening. "Ride me whenever you want... I'm at your service. You deserve to be relieved URGH... whenever you need it... my beautiful, gorgeous... fuck, I'm going to cum."

His words cut short as his release is near, his hand grabbing your face.

"Look at me. Look into my eyes. Cum for me."

You were already so close but that pushed you.

"Good girl. That's my girl. Shhhhit."

You both cum, hard.

His grunts are melodic as he keeps pushing his thick cum as far as he can inside of you.

He peppers you with kisses, desperate and Still amazed sex can feel this good. He's so glad you introduced him to it, and he's even more happy to have you be the one he fucks.

[pessimisticpigeonsworld]

GRRM and the Medieval Setting (Part One - Daenerys)

ASOIAF, like most high fantasy, takes place in a medieval-esque world. There's medieval aesthetic, technology, and sensibilities. These sensibilities in ASOIAF include misogyny, racism/xenophobia, classism, and the allowance of slavery. These things are objectively bad, however, the fandom is obsessed with trying to justify them. Their argument is that these things aren't actually bad in ASOIAF because that's just how things were in the Medieval period and they're cultural norms. This is far from what GRRM is trying to communicate.

GRRM uses most of his pov characters to criticize the medieval sensibilities and ideas. I'm not going to go into every character, but I will do a few of the main ones in a series. This post is going to focus on Daenerys.

Daenerys' primary arc at this point in the books is her campaign against slavery and ruling Meereen. Obviously, the main issue GRRM condemns in her chapters is the existence of slavery. From Dany's first chapter, we are introduced to the Essosi slave trade from the perspective of someone being sold.

Throughout AGOT, the horrors of slavery are introduced. Pentos keeps their slaves thinly disguised at servants despite their agreement with Braavos, Dany is raped routinely by Drogo, the Dosh Khaleen and Khalasars use enslaved eunuchs as servants and healers, Khalasars raid villages and enslave their people, Drogo's Khalasar rape the Lhazareen women, and Eroeh is gang raped and murdered by Khal Jhaqo and his bloodriders. While ACOK doesn't make a point of showing the horror of slavery, in ASOS and ADWD Dany devotes herself to ending the slave trade in Slaver's Bay, foregoing her original goal of the IT.

GRRM fills Dany's chapters with horrific descriptions of the effects of the Essosi slave trade. He portrays the slavers as cruel and "cartoonishly evil". Despite the criticisms of certain fans who routinely defend Essosi slavers, these portrayals are on purpose.

GRRM does have issues with writing characters of color (many of the Dothraki) as stereotypes who don't have much do differentiate them from each other. However, this doesn't actually apply to the antagonists of Dany's story. Kraznys mo Nakloz, Hizdahr zo Loraq, Galazza Galare, Grazdan mo Eraz, and the other slavers are meant to show just how abominable slavery as an institution is. Their cruelty and inhumanity is a conscious choice to reflect the real world people who did the monstrous things that inspired GRRM's version of slavery.

Moving on from slavery, Dany's arc also addresses the misogyny inherit to the Medieval era. Dany is mocked, underestimated, undermined, and devalued because of her gender. She suffers marital rape and a traumatic miscarriage. Each of these things are portrayed as the injustices they are.

Dany is demeaned by her adversaries not just because of her gender but also because she's a non-conforming woman. The slavers spread rumors of her being a monstrous demon who's driven by her lust for sex and power. She's condemned for being a woman who refused to remain in the position society assigned to her.

GRRM shows the common misogynistic beliefs and methods of Medieval men used to suppress women of the time. He also shows that it's his antagonists who employ the smear tactics and refuse to alter their worldviews because of Dany's gender.

GRRM took the femininity that Dany is demeaned for and turned it into symbols of her strength. She's the Mother of Dragons, Mhysa, the Dragon Queen, Khaleesi, Aegon the Conqueror with Teats.

GRRM touches on racism and xenophobia in Dany's chapters. The Dothraki and other Essosi people are viewed and savages and less important by the Westerosi lords. The Lhazareen are demeaned by the Dothraki and Ghiscari. The Qartheen view themselves as superior to everyone around them.

GRRM gives a unique perspective to Dany concerning regional and cultural divides. Dany is a refugee and an exile who has never known a true home. She's travelled throughout many cities of Essos, come into contact with many different cultures, and has learned to appreciate them.

The Ghiscari culture is the one Dany has the most complicated relationship with, but that's purely because of slavery and her constant struggles with the slavers class. She appreciates the Ghiscari people, and embraces their culture, just as she does with every culture she lives in.

GRRM uses Dany and her openness to show how every society has its flaws and its goodness. Just like his characters, the cultures he's created are flawed and very human. Ultimately, GRRM likes the thought of unity between nations, this is reflected in his writing of Dany's chapters.

Finally, GRRM addresses the classism which is intrinsically tied to feudalism. This is already sort of addressed through the slavery section, but he does also go into the class divide outside of this. First off, through Dany's early life, he examines how, without wealth and familial ties, she and children like her are left defenseless and in poverty.

He shows how it's the lower classes and impoverished people who are most often enslaved. The Meerenese nobles are able to afford feasts while the lower classes starve during the siege of Meereen. The Free Cities are ruled by the wealthy slave masters.

Dany, as I've said many times, was raised in poverty, this informs the way she treats her people. GRRM makes a point to show how everyone, from Dany's Dothraki handmaids to the Ghiscari nobles are allowed to speak in Dany's council meetings. She sits for hours to listen to the cases brought before her by all her subjects, the lowborn, the freedmen, and the nobles. She listens to them and takes their opinions and best interests into consideration.

This is something GRRM has gone out of his way to show in his books. His books are full of lords and kings ignoring the smallfolk and using them as disposable pawns. Dany and a few other characters are specifically written to view the common people as significant. This is meant to be significant.

Dany's story is not meant to be read just as someone conquering for power or a spoiled girl who doesn't care about the economies she disrupting. GOT sent the message that Dany is wrong for going against the status quo and many in the fandom seem to just accept this. Just because GRRM wrote a story set in a world with medieval values doesn't mean we should accept the norm of that world as right. He chose to write characters who are outsiders to criticize the world that ostracized them.

Dany's story is about equality, social change, and freedom. The slavers aren't in the right just because their cultures normalize slavery. The men aren't more worthy than Dany and other women just because Westeros and Essos are misogynistic. It's not ok to be racist or xenophobic towards other cultures just because most cities/regions in Planetos have a superiority complex. Classism isn't acceptable just because the nobility think they're superior because of blood or money.

[mrhobiebrown]

SORRY... I MEANT *(2022)

GENRE: COMEDY HORROR, COMING-OF-AGE, SUPERNATURAL

PAIRING: WEDNESDAY ADDAMS X MALE!READER

INTERACTION: FLUFF (TEASING, FLIRTATION & CONSTANT REJECTION)

SEASON: I

EPISODE: I

LOADING...

It was October 18th, the middle of autumn and the beginning of Y/N's new life at Nevermore Academy a.k.a. "The School of Freaks." But it was unfortunate that the boy wasn't really "freaky" himself. He was just a regular mortal sent to a boarding school that was filled with abominations that could possibly kill him just for breathing the wrong way by his nightmarish parents. He laid in thought about this in the backseat of his Dad's tan pickup truck, pondering on how he was going to survive this new monstrous era in his life. But his series of mental distraught was interrupted by the shrieking voice of a happy Mother mixed with a wide smile peaking over the passenger's seat "How're you feeling my sweet little boy?!" She beamed.

He exhaled sharply through his nostrils in response to her bright mood that was mocking his dark one. "Great," Y/N deadpanned, looking out the window with his chin resting on his hand. "A little more enthusiasm would be appreciated," she disclosed, visibly feeling bittersweet at her son's response but shedding him the benefit of the doubt before continuing. "Your dad really worked his ass off to get-" she was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder from her spouse in the driver's seat, signaling her to watch her mouth in front of their child. "Sorry," she apologized before sitting back down in her seat. Y/N's father let out a deep sigh before speaking, "Look son, it might seem like a terrible experience but you should never judge a book by it's cover. You'll like it and I know you will," enunciated the father.

Y/N sighed at his father's words and resumed his pessimistic daydreaming. He was missing his old life already, not prepared to let go of the friends he made and the experiences he had back in his hometown. But now, he was about to go through 4 years of hell and another 4 years of training for the rat race that people call adulthood. He was nearing the school and the sight of it only caused him more internalized pain. The medieval like structure that has the audacity to be called a school in the 21st century, the pitch black ravens resting on the towers of the school, and the leaveless trees highlighting the dark clouds in the sky only made him feel like he was walking into a cemetery. "How the hell am I supposed to survive in this place?" Y/N muttered to himself.

As they pulled into the driveway, he spotted a tall Caucasian woman with short blonde hair and a long grey coat standing firmly in the doorway of the main entrance to the school. Y/N's dad parked the car and him and his mother quickly got out to greet the woman. After their initial greeting, Y/N's mother turns to him, beckoning him to get out of the car and to come and greet the lady. Before he decides to step out of the thing that he'll gladly consider home over this place, he grabs his bookbag and suitcase to make sure he had everything he needed to keep himself warm and clean. He strolls over to his Mom, dragging the suitcase on the ground along with him.

"Say hi Y/N and be nice," bubbled his Mother. The boy digged deep down to find the energy to say hi to her and restlessly succeeded. "Hey," he greeted the woman lethargically. The lady noticed his apathetic tone and behavior and glanced at each parent before bending down to his height and informing him, "Hey Y/N. My name is Larissa Weems but you can call me Principal Weems. I heard a lot of incredible things about you." She was looking forward to having a bit of small talk with him but he seemed like he wasn't a fan of it as he so physically displayed through his eyes staring deep into her soul. Weems raised back up when she realized that the incredible boy that his Mother talked about wasn't really a talker. She adjusted her coat and inhaled before telling them, "So, as the newest member of Nevermore Academy, it's in one of our top priorities to make sure our hospitality makes you feel right at home. But, how can you feel right at home if you don't know where everything is," chuckled Weems. He was very interested on how this random lady would make him feel like he was back in his hometown. He giggled out of amusement before responding, "Well... we'll see about that."

"Oh no, I won't be providing you the hospitality that you'll surely love. She will." She twinkled, before moving to the side and revealing a short pale Hispanic girl with a monochrome Nevermore Academy uniform on and a serious facial expression directed at Y/N.

Y/N's parents jumped at the sight of her but quickly felt guilty of their reaction to the pig-tailed girl's appearance. Him and the girl locked eyes as Weems uttered, "So Wednesday, you'll be in charge of tourism and making him feel like this is just a second home for him." "You'll hate it here." Wednesday chimed in monotonously. Y/N laughed at her sudden statement before nodding, agreeing with her pessimistic statement. "Wednesday!" Weems chastised, she recognized herself snapping and quickly gained a more professional display for the parents in front of her. "Anyways, Y/N go and follow Wednesday and I'll keep your lovely parents company."

Wednesday strode away from the group and Y/N followed her. He slings his backpack over his shoulder and pulls his suitcase with him and sets off with the peculiar tourist guide. "There's the tennis courts where only tennis players can play on. So if you ever decide to participate in such activities, sign up for the tennis team," Wednesday pointed out. "And that's the soccer field next to the tennis courts and the requirements to play on that field is the same as the tennis ones so keep that in mind." "Do you play any sports?" Y/N suddenly questioned, attempting to spark up a conversation with her. She stopped in her tracks and turned to face the boy before replying to him, "No. Why?" queried Wednesday. "Just asking." Y/N enlightened with a mysterious grin. "What are you smiling about?" He wiped the smile off of his face and cleared his throat when she called him out on his odd behavior before answering her question, "The obvious fact that you don't want to do this. Look, we can just skip this and you can take me to my dorm so I can get this stuff off of my back. I'm tired." Wednesday snickered at his evident observation prior responding, "I appreciate your scrutiny because it's true. If I could just skip to you being in your dorm and me being focused on more important things... than I would. But, a falcon has us under surveillance so Principal Weems can make sure I follow through with her orders." Y/N narrowed his eyes at her, confused on what she just said about a falcon filming them. Wednesday looked up at what she was talking about which made the boy turn around to only find out she wasn't lying. It was a brown falcon on a tree facing them directly, hawking loudly.

"But anyways, suck it up and come on. I don't have all day," she dictated before turning back around and continuing on the tour guide. So after several minutes of constant lectures on monuments, she finally decided to take Y/N to the inside of the alma mater.

The inside appearance gave off a gothic medieval aesthetic that slightly intrigued the boy but the eerie look of the interior still didn't save him from the excruciating boredom his mind was going through. Wednesday and Y/N approached the entrance of the courthouse prior to her commentary, "So here lies the abominable cliques that infest the hallways of Nevermore. We got the Fangs which are vampires, the Furs which are werewolves, and the Stoners which are gorgons. Which one are you?" She asked, turning around and facing him. Y/N paused at the question because he was unfortunately neither. He took a deep breath before answering her question, "None of these, sadly. I'm mortal." "You're lying!" Wednesday deadpanned, slightly raising her voice at him. "How can you be a mortal attending a school only fit for freaks like myself? Are you stupid?" ”No, I'm not stupid. I'm mortal." Y/N corrected in a smart aleck manner. Wednesday responded to the boy's wiseacre behavior with a icy stare, clearly displaying that she wasn't finding anything funny about the situation at hand. "We need to get you to Principal Weems so we can solve this issue. So come on." Wednesday instructed, begining to walk away from Y/N. "Or we can go to my assigned dorm... alone." flirted Y/N, turning around to face her. Wednesday wrinkled her nose at his sorry attempt at flirtation before uttering, "Ew," and continuing to walk away.

Y/N's chest tightened at her feedback to his disheartening charisma that he ol' so tried desperately displaying to swoon her. He began to follow her. A few minutes later, they walked up to Principal Weems sitting at her desk, sipping tea out of a white mug, enjoying her day with no worries in the world. "Hey kids, how was the tour?" asked Weems. "It was great... until I realized that you allowed a mortal into a school of supernatural abominations. Are you trying to get him killed?" confronted Wednesday, her tone sounding firm.

Weems placed her mug on the desk previous to delivering her response to Wednesday's question, "No, of course not! I was just very considerate of Y/N's parents hard work to get him into this school. How would you feel if you traveled to another state just to put your child into a specific school and the principal of that school waved you off because your child was too 'normal'?" inquired Weems. "I would show you immense gratitude later on in life because you didn't let my mind boggling stupidity get my kid devoured." Weems rolled her eyes and let out a sigh at the girl's condescending tone before standing up from her chair and walking over to her. "Look, I'm sure that no one would feel the irrepressible urge to inflict major harm to this wonderful young man. And, even if they did, I'm sure you'll be a great bodyguard," the tall lady assured, bending down at the girl's level to enforce a feeling of ease.

Wednesday squinted at her words, feeling irritated at her neglectful attitude. "I will not be his bodyguard and he will not stay in this school!" She stated vigorously. "Do I need to reach the Board of Education to get this solved? Or can you actually do your job?" Weems raised at her threat with bulging eyes, animating with anger. "I don't take lightly to threats little girl, especially blackmail. So if I even have a tiny clue on you communicating with the Board, I'll have you expelled and sent to a therapeutic boarding school. I heard they have a good reputation of turning troubled kids lives around. They'll probably teach you some manners," she growled. She began to stroll back over to her desk, "You probably don't have a ounce of empathy in your body Wednesday, but I do," Weems declared as she sat back down in her seat, flinging her legs on the wide ebony table and raising the white mug to her lips which were covered in matte red lipstick. "Now, take Y/N to his beloved dorm," Weems smiled, suddenly changing her expression from anger to joy as she felt victorious in her and the girl's confrontation. Wednesday let out a irritated sigh and turned around to face Y/N scratching his head. "I would kind of like it if you was my bodygua-" Y/N uttered before being cut off, "Shut up. Come on," she interrupted. "Alright," he obliged humorously.

They began on their way towards his dorm and when they finally arrived Y/N was confused at how empty it was. "Where's my roommate?" he asked. "You will not be having a roommate because you're a mortal. We're taking precautionary measures for your own safety. Be grateful," the girl informed. "I mean... you can be my roommate." Wednesday snapped his head at him, "It's called the boys dorm for a reason. Boys... only." "And I thought this school was called 'The School of Freaks' for a reason. But, as you can see there are exceptions," countered Y/N. Wednesday squinted his eyes at him whilst sauntering right up to him, emitting an intimidating aura. "Listen to me very closely and carefully mortal," she commanded, "I'm listening," Y/N responded facetiously. "I don't appreciate your awful attempts at the art of seduction. I'm a girl that is obsessed with death and macabre with the addition of a sadistic streak and you're a boy that's... just a boy. I don't have any intentions of romance with you considering the fact that you probably won't even be here long enough to experience that. So get whatever disgusting thoughts you have in that head of yours and throw it away to somewhere that you'll never see again. But anyways, goodbye." The girl walked out of the room and the sound of the door closing behind her echoed throughout the dorm.

The boy felt clueless on what to do next. He dropped his bags on the floor prepartory to uttering, "What the hell has my parents got me into?"

[leaderoffestivals]

Poltergeist Chapter 16

The Neverland of Grudges Ch 8

Madara: However, times have changed, and I’ve changed a little, too. And it’s all thanks to you guys. 

Scenario Writer: Akira Season: Winter Characters: Mikejima Madara, Narukami Arashi

Madara: Ohhh. So, that’s how it is.

Regrettably, I’ve not had the chance to interact with NEGI-san personally, but I have carried out extensive research into matters related to her—

Matters which tie into the very foundation of the idol industry and thus, deeply concern us, after all.

It seems NEGI-san was the successor to an entity known as "The Priest", a malevolent figure who ruled the idol industry from the shadows while posing as a god.

Arashi: Eh?! D—did that child really have such a tremendous status, after all? The "Priest"...?

I guess NEGI-chan must’ve been trying her best to appear plain and unassuming in front of us, huh. She still came across as a little out of this world, though—

But then again, that level of eccentricity isn't uncommon at Yumenosaki or ES at all. That’s why it never occurred to me that she was such an extraordinary personage.

Madara: No, that’s because in actuality, she’s not a monstrous being. And of course, she definitely wasn’t a God or anything else either.

Whether it’s NEGI-san or her younger brother, Hitsugi-san, they were probably ordinary kids, just like us.

However, the "Priest”—their father— was a deranged lunatic.

I’m not clear about the fine details, but it seems the Priest was obsessed with a bizarre delusion of taking over the bodies of children, believing he could extend his life this way and live forever.

Immortality has always been the ultimate desire of those in power, ever since the time of the First Emperor of China, you knowww?

As the saying goes, “A crane lives for a thousand years, and a turtle for ten thousand” (1)—

In light of this, the name “Dancing Cranes Home” honestly sends shivers down one’s spine, doesn’t it?

Madara: The big shot in the idol industry who established Dancing Cranes Home was probably none other than the Priest himself, via one of his proxies.

That would explain why his daughter, NEGI-san, ended up being fostered here—

—in a place built and named after the crane, with its legendary thousand-year lifespan, in an attempt to harness the power and mysticism associated with the name.

By christening his building with such an auspicious name, he might have hoped to extend his own life, even if by a little.

Arashi: Eh? On the contrary, didn’t it turn out unlucky in the end? Dancing Cranes Home has already burned to the ground once, after all.

Madara: Hahaha. I daresay that was because the Priest no longer felt the need to rely on such magic formulas. He had found a more suitable vessel for his new form—Hitsugi-san. 

Madara: That’s why he took action to eliminate his daughter, NEGI-san, since she no longer served a purpose to him.

For the Priest who had such an extreme fear of death, the existence of a blood-relation must have been anathema to him. 

There's a possibility someone would be able to trace her lineage back to him—the Priest himself—from her existence, and fearing such an outcome, the Priest took steps to eliminate the evidence, so to speak.

That's probably the true story behind the fire that broke out at Dancing Cranes Home.  

Arashi: What? He decided to do away with her and burn her up in a bonfire, because he didn’t need her anymore?

Who does that kind of thing? Who does that guy even think he is?  

Madara: HAHAHA! I alreadyyy told you—he’s a guy who’s screwy in the head LARPing as a god. Hahaha, he's totally different from Kanata-san; there’d be nothiiing cute about him as a god at aaall—

—just a murderous, malevolent and abominable god. 

However, that person is no longer in this world. I don’t know the exact details, but he was eliminated by somebody, not too long ago. (2) 

Arashi: Oh? Is he dead? He absolutely deserves to be, but then, who am I going to direct these furious fists of mine at now? 

Arashi: The children of the Rafflesia Group under my care are still suffering the traumatic effects of that cruel fire to this very day, you know? They lost their dearest friend, their halcyon, happy days—

And simply reading a picture book with the barest mention of a fire in it makes them cry and throw up.  

Madara: Hmmm. Picture book—a drawing—I seee? 

Maybe that could come in useful after aaall… …

Arashi: Hmm? What’s that? What in the world do you mean? Come on~, Mama, it’s a bad habit to always be keeping things to yourself, you know? 

Madara: Right. I’ve——MaM has always been a Solo Unit, used to working alone. It’s always been enough for me to be the only one who understood what was going on. 

However, times have changed, and I’ve changed a little, too. And it’s all thanks to you guys. 

Arashi: Once again, what in the world do you mean? 

—————-To be continued——————

Chapter 15 / Chapter 17

Translator’s Notes

Madara says 鶴は千年、亀は万年（Tsuru wa sennen, kame wa mannen). It is an expression that translates literally to “A crane (lives for) a thousand years, and a turtle for ten thousand years”. It is used to mean “a long life is something worth celebrating”. Cranes and turtles are symbols of longevity. The saying originated from a Noh play titled [鶴亀] “TsuruKame” (Crane and Turtle), a congratulatory tale that prays and celebrates the peace of the world and the long-term state.

Nagisa was the one who got rid of the Priest. He set up and managed to trap the Priest with GateKeeper’s help in SS Finals (Main Story 2). The Priest had wanted to take over Nagisa then (since Hitsugi faked his death in BlackJack (Main Story 1.5) and wasn't around to be used). It’s not certain what happened to the Priest exactly, but he was trapped in a car which was driven away after Nagisa passed judgement on him “to be burnt in the fires of hell for eternity” (SS Finals Laurel Ch 23).

This isn't proofed, so you've any feedback, please DM me.

[pixiesdirt]

Hi im pixies dirt aka Angelica and I will be using Tumblr to write about my DND horror campaign called "The Black Sabbath" which is about gothic cowboys who are connected to the seven sins. The main antagonist is "N0TH1NG" . An eldritch being that represents chaos, it is currently imprisoned in Malmo aka "Order". The main villain is "The Dark" it's a malevolent black fog that is the embodiment of evil and horror who created all monsters in the world of "Vundabar". The seven sins in my universe are represented as seven kings, terrifyingly humanoid looking abominations, each expressing a different emotion of "N0TH1NG". They pick seven creatures to represent themselves to bring nothing back into existence which means the end of everything. The party consists of:

Entropy, the Sin of WR4TH. Child of Ozzy Morninstar, a tiefling blood hunter/paladin who created the Black Sabbath, an organization of monster hunters with the sole mission of destroying the dark, who abandoned Entropy at a young age after the death of their mother. Entropy went on to dedicate themselves to finding Ozzy and killing him.

Jude, the Sin of 3NVY. A young lad who met entropy at the orphanage. The two instantly connected, committing many mischiefs together, and eventually falling in love, but soon after Jude was bitten by Dracula and made a slave to his will. He was then freed by Ozzy when reports of a vampire posing as a priest made it to his door.

Rose, the Sin of GLUTT0NY. A young orc girl who grew up in a poor village, was being sent away to live with their godfather Ozzy Morninstar, a grand feast would send her off but sadly a monstrous beast in the shape of a wolf, with a howl so sickly it would make grown men cry, it killed everyone except for Rose after their mother tossed them a silver pendant. The wolf hid itself inside of Rose, forever feeding off the guilt she holds from that night.

Hemlock, the Sin of SL0TH. Born in a forest that surrounded a town named "Tralucidumbra", the young moth creature had spent his entire life protecting the town with his family. The town at first feared the moths but soon grew to accept them as their protectors. But on one fateful night, when the red moon was high, Hemlock woke to the sounds of nothing. Not a single gasp, not one breath, not even the sounds of a child's steps staying up too late, nothing. They flew to the town and found not one person, alive or dead. Hemlock had failed the town, he spent the rest of his life looking for them, he grew tired, and weak. But he would not stop pursuing, he couldn't, he never would.

Spire, the Sin of PR1D3. Practically kicked from their home, Spire was born with a rather strange oddity, the ability when wet to turn into a fish creature. They would use this ability to help all things as strange as themselves, from monsters as old as time, to creatures born from the dark itself, they pride themselves with their natural gift to heal and tame beasts. Unknowingly forming a contract with their king and the dark. They would go on to live in a lagoon surrounded by five stones, each with a single line of varying length meaning something...

Nyx, the Sin of LUST. Relatively new to the party, Nyx appears to be human but whenever anyone takes a closer look into their eyes they would feel as if they were dreaming, specifically the kind where you feel as if you're falling and wake up just as you hit the ground. They speak as if death was watching them, eyes black as the void, and occasionally they will talk to their fellow party members as if they were other people entirely.

The six of them are tasked with finding the name of their kings to break free of them. No one in the past has ever done it, will they succeed, and what will happen next? I don't know but we shall see.

If you liked this then please watch us live on twitch or join the discord!!!! I will be making more posts about these lovely people and their ties with the seven kings in more depth/detail. Have a lovely day!!!!

[distant-velleity]

well anyway in the meantime, here's a bunch of random headcanons about my hsr ocs that i may or may not have posted before

mizaru used to have a lover, the two would quietly rebel against their government together, but obviously things didn't work out--now, it's not so much mizaru has sworn off love as they absolutely need to trust any possibly romantic partners

if regis hadn't left her home planet, she would have had to become a shrine maiden or some other form of religious work; her home planet takes the worship of idrila (who they call the Rosedreamer/THEIR Elegance) very seriously. regis is relatively faithful herself but she could not stand her home

aki's home planet is very similar to modern-day earth, except it used to be ridden with a certain supernatural species (that has since mostly died out). the ipc is present on the planet, but it has significantly less influence in the city aki resides in due to high levels of gang activity

the government in mizaru's home planet would make use of memoria to torture prisoners/rebels/etc., which is how mizaru ended up as they are

regis had to watch her father succumb to "mara" with her own eyes, seeing him go from a normal-looking plant human to a monstrous abomination

the x-shaped scar on aki's cheek is from an altercation with his rival group; it also happened to be the same altercation in which his "sister" was killed and he had to take the position of "boss"

(ironically, the same fate almost befell him when he "died")

in regards to no one using their birth names:

mizaru finds it more convenient to use different aliases everywhere they go--after all, the work of a galaxy ranger often gives their aliases a criminal association. that, and they're sick of their old name

regis simply doesn't like her birth name, because it's heavily associated with her home planet. she wanted to completely discard her past, "ugly" self so when she left she also chose a different name

aki's birth name was chosen by his father -- who left upon aki's birth, realizing that both his son and his wife were "monsters" -- and given by his mother who couldn't let him go. after his mom died, aki was still very bitter over the whole thing, so he chose a different name out of spite

anyway here's some more silly/less angsty headcanons

mizaru loooves spoiling themselves. shopping sprees, spa days, you name it.

regis is always on the lookout for the most popular, highest-quality makeup products

aki is popular with kids, who unwittingly refer to him as "uncle"--obviously he wouldn't dream of making them join, they're too young and innocent, but he does take good care of them!

mizaru can and will smoke their pipe in the middle of combat, they actually use it to blind enemies momentarily lol

regis doesn't just use her mirror of transcendence to fight, she has a bunch of these smaller floating mirrors that can cause projectiles to ricochet (she would have made a GREAT preservation unit)

aki's ultimate animation is lowkey just him setting enemies on fire with gasoline and a lighter...

mizaru and aki would get along, i firmly believe this in my heart. tax evasion friendship /j

regis got the rose accessory in her front pocket from her father

aki runs hot despite being a [redacted for silly lore purposes], which is why he's actually more active at night now and . you know. never wears shirts properly

[goldleaf-blog]

Ninjago lore: Dragon Heart // Part 2

Part 2: The Overlord and Dragon Rivalry

In this part we’ll talk about the history of the war between Oni and Dragons. Exploring the Overlord’s character as while as establishing Dragon Rivalry. 

As mentioned in Part 1 the war started when Dragon and Oni couldn’t get along and both parties decided that the realm is better off with the either side being eliminated. Wojira was the first to succumb to her dragon heart. Filled with wrathful intent Wojira flees the first realm to wreaks havoc on the soon to be realm of Ninjago.

Sometime during the war a child was born being part of Oni and Dragon. That being the FSM. There are many theories of how the FSM was born but my personal theory is that he had parents. Instead of both parties wanting the FSM to join them, both parties want to kill the child and the parents for allowing the abomination to exist. After failing to get through to both parties and having witnessed the death of his parents the FSM leaves his home, abandoning his quest for a united realm. 

The Overlord section will be split into two sections. My theory and Tommy Andreasen’s theory. My Theory is that Overlord was a formal dragon that went evil. While Tommy’s theory is that Overlord was formerly part of FSM. So how does the Dragon heart fit in? 

Theory 1. Some time after the FSM left the first realm a new threat began to emerge. A dragon who wielded the power of creation succumbed to his dragon heart and developed a hunger for power and a need to conquer. But to do this he needed to create a new power. The Element of Darkness. He sacrificed thousands of oni to obtain this power. He absorbed their essence and made himself part Oni. Fusing the power of both Creation of Destruction he transformed himself into the embodiment of Darkness.

Seeing as they had a common enemy, the Omega and the Firstbourne put their differences aside to banish the Overlord from their realm. Which they succeed. In anger the Overlord swore revenge.

When the Overlord stumbled upon Ninjago he found the child. So he developed a sinister plan. He would consume the FSM’s essence and use its power to corrupt the first realm and enslave both dragon and oni. Creating a force of peace.

But that didn’t happen. So instead he changed his plans. He would instead corrupt his descendants, corrupt Ninjago and then seek his eyes on the first realm.

Theory 2. The Overlord's original form was a dragon. We know this from season 2 and even the design from crystalized as the crystal king is also in dragon like appearance. So if FSM somehow got rid of his Oni heritage then he also got rid of the dragon heart. However in doing so he created a monstrous from both evils. Thus the Overlord was born. A dragon with power of destruction. Leaving the FSM as an oni with the power of creation. Subverting expectations.

Regardless of which theory you go with, the Overlord is presented as an evil dragon who willingly succumbed to an evil source of power. 

Establishing from the ground of Theory 1. Sometime after the Overlord’s banishment a civil war had started among the dragons with many dragons succumbing to their dragon hearts. Having enough of these Dark Lords running around, the Firstbourne took it upon herself to end the war, and she cursed her evil children into humanoid forms. Stripping them of their wings and their power. The Firstbourne fled back to her nest and weeped for her fallen kin. Thus the Dragon Hunters were born.

Now let's talk about Dragon Rivalry. 

Dragon Rivalry is when two Dragon Hearts found themselves in a competition. They see each other as a threat and their main goal is to destroy one another. In the course of the series it is Wu and the Overlord that have this Rivalry.

The Overlord knew Wu (The Son of his greatest enemy known as the FSM) has a Dragon Heart and the Overlord wanted to eliminate a potential rivalry. So he sends the Great Devour to either control him or kill him through the serpent’s poison. You know, like an assassin. But Garmadon got bitten instead. So the Overlord changed his plans. He would instead use Garmadon to kill Wu. When Garmadon failed the Overlord returned to his original plan. Why would he be bothered to control Wu. Well Wu is a Oni dragon hybrid that mostly inherited the dragon side of the family. Wu would have been the perfect vessel. But that never happened and he’ll never get the chance again. Due to Wu’s dragon heart now being too powerful to be tamed by an outside.

In the next part we’ll be talking about Wu’s evil side. 

Thus ends Part 2. Part 1. Part 3