#hail-the-one-eyed-king

[the-ghoul-remains]

@hail-the-one-eyed-king‘s Arima no longer knows what to do to stop his son (our Black Reaper) from crawling back to his toxic ex/boyfriend/ex/boyfriend/ex/bo - ( @blood-driven )

Commissioned by: @blood-driven Artist: https://www.deviantart.com/archivistsoot

[kusatta]

moved from legacy. / @hail-the-one-eyed-king.

another twitch of his finger at the other’s words,   he does his best to keep his eyes open,   to keep his gaze focused upon him,   a desperate attempt as another croak leaves him,   perhaps something akin to a sob,   or a pained scream,   muffled by tubes   &   oxygen mask.   he had to remain calm least they sedate him again.   he allows heavy lids to flutter close,   perspiration falling from his temples as hair stuck to the sides of his face like a halo.

the pain he was feeling was almost numbing,   but his sacrifice lead to a catalyst of rebirth,   the survival of a loved one.   should arima ever be so inclined to hint at the truth,   it would have all been bearable,   worth it.   even knowing the excruciating pain he was feeling now,   he would perform that same act of loyalty,   utter devotion,   over & over again.

there’s not much he can do from his current position,   lips parted as he inhales sharply.   lashes flutter open again,   a new determination set within his gaze as finger taps against bed sheets.   he wanted whatever arima would give him.   hope,  finality,   death.   it didn’t matter,   so long as he knew.   ‘   please,   ‘   he wants to say,   ‘   please,   tell me why you went through the trouble of finding me.   ‘

[blood-driven]

“You have to have something to loose to be afraid and I have already lost it all.” 

@hail-the-one-eyed-king​

[mice-rats-daily]

Today's rat is One-Eyed Simon from All Hail King Julien!

[nelkcats]

Nature is watching you

It had been days since the Justice League had begun fighting the most powerful entities they had ever seen. Days since the earth itself had been against them.

It all began when the weather changed from one second to the next: Heavy storms in Metropolis, hail in Gotham, blizzards in Central City. Then carnivorous plants grew at every point on earth (and it wasn't Poison Ivy, they checked), by which point it was obvious that a larger force was to blame.

John Constantine identified them as "Vortex" and "Undergrowth", though he couldn't quite explain what they were, however he warned them not to confront them, letting them get bored would be the safest thing to do (the man looked uncharacteristically pale as he commented the last part). The League did not listen to him, worried about civilian casualties and confronted both beings anyway, they had fought Gods, surely it wouldn't be different.

It became clear that they made the wrong decision when they noticed most of their members were incapacitated or injured after a couple of days, and the beings had not been harmed in the least. Vortex laughed as Undergrowth looked at them, disgusted.

Their last confrontation was in Gotham so it was no surprise that Nightwing and Red Hood continued to evacuate civilians to a safer location. Jason noticed the moment when one of the civilians ran the other way decisively, the vigilante sighed as he indicated Nightwing that he would go after him. His brother nodded before Red Hood chased after the stupidly brave black-haired, blue-eyed boy, damn, he hoped Bruce didn't see him.

Unfortunately, he was just in time to see him run over to where the League was and stand in front of the two enemies, it was obvious the heroes were trying to push him away but they were either too hurt to move or didn't notice. Jason was about to yell at him to get out of the way when the boy spoke.

"STOP!"

The boy was clearly frustrated, and his face wore an annoyed expression. Jason noted the moment when the rest of the heroes noticed the boy standing in the middle of the battlefield. Supes had a devastated expression on his face.

Jason ran to the boy (who was strangely fast), he didn't know who he was but he would hate to see him die. He wondered if it was too late when both beings noticed him. They seemed strangely frightened? Jason guessed it was a trick of their eyes.

The battlefield was suddenly silent. It seemed like everyone was holding their breath, waiting for something to happen.

"I told you to stop" the black haired boy spoke again, his voice echoed in the silence, annoyance could still be heard in his tone. It was obvious he wasn't afraid. Without the heroes noticing, the plants and clouds stopped moving.

Quickly coming to his senses and noticing something, Superman shouted a warning as he looked at the hand of one of the beings pointing at the frail boy in front of him. He looked at Red Hood, who was running towards the scene but wouldn't make it in time, before looking at his own body, too damaged to move.

Contrary to what everyone expected, both beings lowered their heads, clasping their hands nervously, as if they weren't sure if they should kneel.

At the end, they lowered their heads in front of the boy in submission, looking defeated and strangely embarrassed.

"Sorry, my King" both said.

Danny snorted as he folded his arms. Jason, who had made his way over to where the halfa stood, looked at the three confused, what the fuck?

[notthesomefather]

Visiting the All-Daddy

Some of you may recognize this Odin statue from a post I made last year, when my husband and I visited Munich for the first time. It was my honor, privilege, and joy to be able to visit Odin a second time a few days ago.

I was elated to see that, deep within the rocks at the statue's base, folks had left offerings in the form of unopened bottles of mead (pictured) and beer. Our offerings consisted of reciting a prayer I wrote for the occasion and leaving an Othala rune I made of nearby twigs.

Odin has always struck me as a god who enjoys being worshipped, and I feel his "attendance" at rituals held in his honor more than almost any other god. This was no exception! The trees were still and the woods were entirely silent, to an almost spooky degree (there was no chance of large predators, don't worry!) until the second we finished reading the prayer when a huge gust of wind swept through and TWO RAVENS flew into a tree RIGHT ABOVE US and started cawing. The Wanderer fills my heart x0x

Hail the Wanderer, He who travels far yonder and within.

Hail Grimnir, He who would know more, he who thought and memory serve.

Hail Wotan, He who observes, he who repays treachery and deceit.

Hail the One-Eyed, He who beholds, he who partakes in man’s generosity.

Hail the Barrow God, He who hears, he who knows the unspoken.

Hail the Aesir king, He who returns, he who has learned much.

Hail Odin!

[ornii]

“My Sweet Rheanerya…”

Rhaenyra X Male Twin! reader

“All Hail the Twins of the Hightower!”

Born to the house of Hightower much was expected of you and your dear sister Alicent. Keeping up appearances was a challenge for one such as yourself, Alicent however took it in stride. They say that twins are one soul, but simply two bodies, that couldn’t be further from the truth. While Alicent was temperate, calm, rational you were the complete opposite as some would say, Wrathful, Prideful and A bit arrogant, you made for an excellent knight, and a chip on your shoulder to prove your worth. Thankfully an opportunity had arisen in time, Kevan the Barbarian, a brigand who’s made camp with his men off a road to Kings landing, smart woodsmen and decent terrain fighters.

You Knelt down in your clad armor, dawning the Hightower sigil. Removing your gloves you point at the dirt diagram you made with your soldiers, twenty loyal men to the Hightowers. “The camps been surrounded in oil, but a small point near the fronts been untouched, we light the circle and pincer them in, leave the Captian alive of course, if the men show resistance, the Kings ransom has ordered them dead..” You stood up and a soldier handed you a helmet.

You and the men approached the forest and walked in, the pitch darkness was dimly lit by the encroaching moonlight, until distant flames dance in the air, torches. Kneeling down you and soldiers crept close and began to smell the oil. You raised your hand and clenched your fist, making the signal. Using sticks and thick oil soaked cloth wrapped around, they smacked flint against stone and lit up the torches, landing them on the ends of the oil, the flames burst and began to swirl around the camp. Soldiers stood up in shock as you stepped out of the encroaching darkness into the burning light. You eyed the leader, who was stuffing his face of the bread he had robbed and killed for. Your soldiers approach to bolster your position.

“Surrender, and be shown mercy..” you yelled, booming your choice under the raging flames, and of course the brigands didn’t yield and attacked. You motion for the soldiers and they charged in, it was a slaughter, the brigands were proud men, but awful against top notch armor and weapons. You calmly watched men die, blood splatter and limbs fall. You stepped to Kevan who growls like a hurt animal. His men all dead, him surrounded.

“Sword, Shield.” You commanded, putting your helmet on and a pair of soldiers deliver your sword and shield, gripping the hilt you raised your sword from the sheath and gripped the reigns of the shield. You duel with the brigand. Ducking the swings of his hefty axe you roll though with a cut to the inner thigh. He crumbled for a moment before roaring back up to fight, it’s obvious that this isn’t going to be easy. You took a defensive stance as he swung, using the shield to absorb most of the blow, but the attack was much stronger than you expected. The shock sent the shield into your face, hitting you square in the nose, and forcing you in the ground, blood leaks from your nose and you look up to the axe ready to kill.

You took his pride into account and picked the shield back up, deflecting each heavy blow until he was confident you couldn’t fight back, before the last swing you gripped your sword, he swung and you rolled quickly, the force jams the axe into the ground and you recoiled with the hilt of the blade straight to his jaw, and a shield base straight to his face, knocking him out cold. You stood up, panting. “Tie him. Prepare him for kings landing.” You shook off the hits and walked off, the flames dancing in your wake.

Upon your horse you entered the main courtyard of The Red Keep with your soldiers, you proudly made way for Kevan, who was bound and gagged on the back of your horse. Your head jerked up to the stairs, and an approaching Alicent, you gave a wholesome bow. “Sister! Father isn’t going to grace his loyal sword with his presence?” You asked, a bit hostile, but not towards your dear sister. Alicent put on a face and pouted slightly. “Dear Brother.. I presume this is, Kevan?” She asked, you unseated yourself from your steed and walked to face Kevan.

“Yes, this is the man who would dare utter such heinous words about the princess. I believe Kevan you said she was a.. I believe you said “White haired cunt, correct?” You asked, before Kevan could grumble up something you elbowed him straight in the nose, “Make you pleas to the king, not me. I however, won’t be so merciful. Take him.” You ordered the soldiers and they dragged him off your horse and to the dungeons. You walked up the flight of stairs to walk with your sister.

“Father truly did not wish to see my work” you asked, Alicent kept her eyes forward, “you mean the work he didn’t approve of and that you did regardless? No, so he sent me in his stead, a show of.. acceptance I suppose.” She said, not particularly buying her father’s excuse.

“Or a way of establishing us as capable as the Targaryens.” you suggest, and walk with your sister though the keep to your bed chambers. “Speaking of Targaryen.. how is Lady Rhaenyra?” You asked, hesitation and, curiosity in your voice. Alicent had a slightly Cheshire grin. “She’s studying.. alone, you shouldn’t pester her.”

“I do not “pester” the princess.” You retort.

“What would you call it then? I doubt she enjoys your constant company.” Alicent replied in jest, you faked shock. “My dead sister, how hurtful.” You then laughed, but a serious tone began to overtake.

“I do worry of the princess. Of her station.. I hear of King Viserys’ attempts to.. produce an heir.” You put it gently. Alicent bit her lip slightly. “She is the rightful heir, firstborn of the King, you’d do well to remember that.”Alicent replied with a stern tone. You two entered your bedchamber and you placed your helmet on your desk. “I mean no disrespect to her, you know that..” you sat in your chair, and Alicent walked up behind you, grabbing the buckles under your armor, the relief of pressure as your armor was finally taken off allowed you to sigh heavily with relief.

“Thank you..” you uttered, relaxing. Alicent spots more blood on your armor and a look of worry went on her face. “Tell me… how- did you capture this brigand?” She asked and took off you gauntlets and let them slip on the ground, “Simple, I.. baited him into almost killing me.” What you said wasn’t technically a lie, just a badly simplistic version of what transpired.

“Really?” She replied, the dried blood on your armor said otherwise. Before she could ask, you cut her off. “Alicent.. I want to know your honest opinion.” You started, you watched your sister walk to face you, silently waiting for your question, and you took a major gamble.

“Do you.. do you think I could marry Rhaenerya?” Your question sounded absurd to most simple nobles and common men, but you, perhaps it was the case. Alicent felt the honesty in your choice, “You wish to be king?” She asked, and to be honest it never occurred to you, your shock caught her off guard by her question, “Oh.. I would be, wouldn’t I?” You said, Alicent sat across from you.

“You first thought of marrying her not for the throne, but because you truly do love her, I.. don’t wish to be a bearer of bad fortune brother but… the princess has, obligations.. she’d most likely marry to a high lord to establish an alliance… and, Hightower isn’t enough of a profitable obligation to consider..” Alicent had attempted to be as kind as possible about it, but the rejection was all the same. All of what she was; was true, Alicent reached out to try and offer you comfort but you quickly smiled.

“A conquest for another knight then, many suitors still await me.” You stood up grinning and began to undo your played leggings.

“All things considered I had thought it was just a fools errand.” You said, still putting on a strong face, Alicent could see it was a fair enough mask to hide the hurt. Alicent knew pestering you would only set in motion more walls for the twins to be separated by, so she simply let it alone.

“The Kings Tourney begins in the morrow. Alicent said, not able to look at you as you drop your armor. “I doubt father would let me join, although Gwayne might take a stab at it.” You suggest, and then sit back down, “I assume you and Rhaenerya shall be watching? I intent to as well, if father allowed…” you trailed off and smiled, “regardless I’ll be there—“

Before you and mutter another phrase, knocks echo at the door and a soldier opens it, he side steps and allows someone inside, Rhaenerya. Her eyes trail the room and lay upon you, both you and your sister bow.

“Your grace.” You both spoke, Rhaenerya smiled and approached, “You can stop being so formal.” She watched you turn your head back up.

“Right… I hear that there will be a tourney for your brother I believe?” You started, Rhaenerya kept calm but a slight shift in her footing said more than expected. “That is what I hear, I presume you’ll be attending it?”

“With you there? Of course.” You said instinctively, realizing you blurted that out, to attempt to apologize. “I.. I’m sorry—“

“Stop apologizing, no need to, Alicent I’m ready to continue my lesson, and (Y/n), I appreciate you defending the honor of your princess. Although I saw no real harm in letting a Brigand wag his tongue.”

“I just couldn’t let them speak ill of you..” you mumbled, you were confident, cocky and powerful but when it came to Rhaenerya, it all meant nothing.

“Honorable indeed… you spent a week searching for them, it’s.. good to have you back.” Rhaenerya departed with your sister after those words. You considered what Alicent said, the painful truth, but at the same time, to let this chance slip by.. regardless if you succeed or not

You will confess your love to her, you will win her heart…

[glittergelpensblog]

In the Dark (I)

Eventual Azriel x Reader Witch!Reader Word Count: 3,009 words Summary: You were a witch made into High Fae by your family, kidnapped by the King of Hybern. After he attempts to use your power, you are saved by the Night Court Warnings: Kidnapping, murder, canon violence, graphic descriptions of death, torture, fire, scars, please let me know if I forgot anything! Note: Thank you so much for all of the love on this story! This is a lot of world building and seeing where the reader came from, but I have big big plans for this story, and have never been so excited to flesh a work out! Thank you again :)

Prologue

Chapter One

You sat in silence, swishing your fingers in the giant tub in what Rhysand called the Townhouse. 

The water was now cold, and tinged dark from all the dirt you had accumulated over the months in that cell. It took almost an hour to scrub off the caked dirt and blood that seemed to tattoo onto your body, and your skin was now red and felt raw. 

You couldn’t avoid speaking to the others for much longer.

You arrived at the Townhouse, after Mor dropped off the two Fae ladies she had grabbed, Nesta and Elain, at another home in a mountain. She gave you a brief explanation of who she was, and what had happened at Hybern, before she winnowed you to the Townhouse to meet the others. 

As soon as you arrived they all began bickering, and two wraiths, Nuala and Cerridwen, gently guided you upstairs, taking you to a room more extravagant than you had ever seen in your witch village. Nuala set a plate of food on the small desk in the corner before gesturing to the bathing room, then she walked through the wall and disappeared. 

The way you ate the dinner was embarrassing, the first real meal you had eaten in months. You devoured it so fast that you had thrown it up into the toilet. Your body wasn’t used to real sustenance after being fed stale slices of bread and water laced with fae bane for months. After you were done being sick, you found a note on the desk, telling you to come downstairs after you bathed and changed. 

You sighed, stepping out of the cold water and drying yourself. You made your way to the bed where you found an outfit laid for you on the bed, a knit sweater and a simple pair of jeans. You quickly dressed, and stepped into the hallway, unsure of which way to go before Cerridwen appeared, and guided you downstairs into the main living area. 

The bickering court was now silent as you entered the living room, and before you sat three of the people from Hybern. Rhysand, the High Lord sat next to Mor on the couch, and to her left was the man who had an arrow in his chest earlier, who you hadn’t had the chance to meet before he was whisked away by healers, along with the male with shredded wings. The latter  was absent, his injury too serious to be out of bed by now. In the armchair next to the sofa was a woman who appeared to be High Fae, but you knew wasn’t. You could sense her power from where you stood at the entryway, and her eyes gleamed pure silver, like mist moving behind glass. 

All of their eyes were on you as you stepped foot into the room.

“Y/N, come sit,” Rhysand spoke gently, gesturing to the plush sofa across from him and the others. You did as asked, sinking into the cushions before a plate of tea and pastries appeared on the table between the couches. Your stomach grumbled, but you ignored the pastries, pouring yourself a cup of tea in fear of the sickness that hailed your body from when you ate earlier. 

“This is Azriel,” He gestured to the winged man to the right, “And Amren.” He leaned his head towards where the silver-eyed woman sat.

You quietly spooned honey into the cup, stirring it as you sat back into the couch before meeting everyone's expectant eyes. “What do you want to know?”. You internally cringed at how weak you sounded, your voice shredded and raw from all of the screaming earlier.

“Tell us what you can bear.” Mor spoke softly, her warm brown eyes meeting yours, filled with such compassion you almost teared up, the most emotion you had seen in months.

“I don’t even know where to start.” Your voice cracked, and heat filled your cheeks. Embarrassment washed over you. You are not weak. You told yourself. You are not afraid. 

“The king said you were a Witch,” Rhysand prompted, “How is that possible?”

You swallowed, pushing down the lump in your throat, “Witches were never extinct,” You told the High Lord, “Yes, we were mostly gone after the war, our population was decimated. But we still exist.” 

“How did no one know?”

“We kept hidden,” You took a sip of your tea. “After the war, our ancestors migrated to an island off the coast of the mortal lands. We hid the island with magic, similar to a glamour. We– they wanted to stay hidden, and were tired of getting caught between human and Fae conflict.”

Fae, witch, the words felt lost in your throat. What even were you anymore?

“Then how did Hybern find you?” The one with wings asked. Your eyes snapped to him, and his hazel ones flickered in the reflection of the roaring fire to the left. Shadows swirled and danced behind him, blending in with the web of light and dark emanating from the flames. 

“I still don’t know, to this day.” You paused. “He would taunt me about how easy we were to find, but never how he did so. He invaded in the middle of the Night. He took me in my sleep, and made me watch as he killed my sister. Then he burned down my village, he made me watch that as well before I was knocked out. When I woke up, I was in the dungeons.” Blood roared in your ears at the memory, full of anger, your sister's mutilated body on the kitchen table, the screams of your village as they realized they were trapped inside the flames. You felt your power gurgling in your chest, and you shoved it down deep inside, trapping it behind the iron doors you imagined sat under your heart.

Not here, not now. 

They tensed at the pulse of power in the room, before Amren spoke, changing the subject, “The king said you were made into Fae, but not by the High Lords, nor the Cauldron. He said you were made by magic, girl. I’ve never heard of magic that can do that.”

You froze, images flashing in your mind from that night, that terrible, horrible night. You felt nauseous, but you swallowed down the bile rising in your throat, and held your chin high.

“A few years ago, my mother died of a strange illness, one we did not know how to treat with magic. While she was sick, my father searched for answers, and even went to the continent to try to find them. He went mad searching, trying to find any sort of magic that could heal her. But there was nothing he could do to save her. 

“After her death, he spiraled. While searching for a cure, he stumbled upon dark, ancient magic. Magic we didn’t know existed. After she died, he kept studying it, and began practicing it. My sister and I didn’t even realize that it was consuming him until it was too late, until we couldn’t pull him back. I tried to help, but she was scared that I would get hurt. She tried everything to stop him, but she couldn’t. He had become a different person, and was no longer the male that raised us. We could barely recognize him.

“He would practice the spells in the woods behind our home, always attempting to master his newfound magic. It was dark, and evil, and my sister didn’t know what to do, how to stop it.” 

You paused and took a sip of tea before you spoke the next part, before you told the court, complete and utter strangers, of the night that haunted your nightmares, of the night when you became an outcast from your village.

Your screams from the night that still echoed in your mind.

You can do this. You are not afraid.

“He found a spell that would turn the dead into Fae, and he wanted to use it on my mother, to try to bring her back. I don’t believe it would have worked on her, she had been dead for almost a year when he found it. But he had gone mad at that point, and nothing could stop him from trying to use it. But, he wanted to make sure he mastered it first, before trying it on her. So he decided to test it on me.”

Mor gasped, her slender hand reaching to cover her mouth. Azriel and Amren stiffened, and Rhysand stared at you, eyes wide with horror. “He killed you?”

You let a deep sigh fall from your lips. “Yes, he killed me. He knocked me out while I was sleeping, and took me to the woods. When I woke up, he was explaining the spell to me. There was nothing I could do. He paralyzed me by magic, and I was too weak at the time to undo it.”

You took in a harsh breath before you continued the story. “The spell required for the body to be drained of all blood, so it could be filled with blood of the Fae. I don’t know where he got the Fae blood from, there were none living on the island.

“So he killed me– he killed me by draining the blood from my body. He cut me from my jaw all the way down to the end of my wrist, and let me bleed out.” You pulled the neck of your sweater to show how the scar continued down your shoulder, the puckered skin disappearing under the knit fabric.. A constant reminder of your slow, painful, death, and the look in your father’s eyes as he watched.  “I begged him to stop, I tried to fight. But there was nothing I could do but watch him kill me. I was too weak to fight back, my magic wasn’t strong enough yet.”

Tears streamed down Mor’s face at the story, and you blinked back yours.

“I don’t know how he did it, but he replaced my blood with that of the Fae. When I awoke–  or came back to life, I was so angry, so, so angry. That he killed me, that he chose to use me as an experiment… I was blinded with rage.  But he did the spell incorrectly. Along with life, he breathed the magic into me– magic I didn’t know how to control. He could feel it, and as soon as he saw me…” You took a pause, attempting calm, deep breaths. 

“He knew what he had done, and tried to run away from me. But I was out of control, with new power I didn’t know how to get a hold of. Before I knew it, before I even knew what was happening, I killed him.” 

The group paled, and you sat in silence as they absorbed your words, your story. 

Your curse.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You sat at the luxurious dining table at the townhouse, slowly spooning porridge into your mouth in between sips of tea. You longingly eyed the coffee that sat in a metal carafe at the center of the table, the tendrils of steam dancing in the morning sun so temptingly. You were tired, and had yet another sleepless night. Coffee would keep you awake, keep you alert, keep you from falling into another nightmare-filled sleep. 

You gave into the temptation, reaching for the carafe before a wave of nausea rolled over you, and you dropped your hand to the table, pushing away your bowl of porridge. 

You had been at the townhouse for two days, and could still barely keep a meal down. 

Amren chuckled from the seat across from you, and flicked the page of her book with her mind. “You’re going to need to eat if you wish to fight.”

“I’m trying.” You retorted, gulping down the rest of your tea. 

The night after you explained everything to the inner circle, Rhysand offered for you to stay at the Library underneath the House of Wind, where dozens of Priestesses lived after being displaced from their homes, similar to you. It was a safe space, a refuge from the world as they healed from the traumas they endured. 

You immediately turned down his invitation.

“I’ve spent ten months locked in a cell, tortured by Hybern’s soldiers with orders to break me. I am not going to give them what they want. I am not going to run and hide.” You spoke, meeting Rhysands violet eyes before looking at the rest of the Inner Circle. He and Mor nodded at your words.

To their left, Cassian, whom you had just met that morning, smirked. “I certainly don’t expect you to. You put up one hell of a fight in that throne room.” Azriel nodded next to him, his shadows that were before lazily curling around his form now tucked tight against his body.

You tensed at the sentence, “I wasn’t going to let him whore out my magic.”

You wouldn’t allow him the victory of breaking you.

After that, Amren had offered training, a way to harness and hone in your power, to control it. She was also made, and although her powers were different from yours, her training was helping, or it felt like it did. 

You needed it to.

Because if it didn’t, if you couldn’t gain control of yourself… then maybe Hybern had succeeded. 

Maybe you were broken. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“You’re not focusing.” Amren’s sharp voice cut through the silence. 

It was a simple task, something that you had done many times before you were turned. All you had to do was set a simple piece of paper on fire. 

But what once easily came to you now felt impossible to grasp. 

“I am focusing!” You snapped, and the paper fluttered to the floor from where it was hovering in the air. Gods, you couldn’t even keep the paper afloat.

“No you are not.” Annoyance laced her voice, and you could tell she was getting fed up. And so were you. 

You had never felt so weak. 

Amren sighed, and your cheeks flushed as her eyes filled with what seemed to be pity. 

You didn’t need any more pity, you felt it at dinner every night with the Inner Circle. You weren’t sure if you could take anymore of it, the pitiful looks from Mor, the softened gaze of Rhysand, and sometimes even Cassian.

Amren and Azriel were the only two who hadn’t looked at you like a wounded animal. You couldn’t lose that. 

“Try it again.”

You closed your eyes, using your magic to make the paper float. You breathed, and searched, for minutes that felt like hours, until you found the power, deep inside you, and brushed against it, awakening a tendril of the dark magic.

You opened your eyes, keeping them locked onto the paper, and willed it to burn. 

The curtains to your right erupted in flames. 

A shout from the doorway gave away the secret audience of Cassian in the entrance, and he quickly grabbed the carafe of water on the table, dousing the fire that was filling the room with smoke. 

Anger and embarrassment took over your body as your face turned red. Had he been watching this whole time? As you failed the most menial of tasks? The flames erupted again at the thought, bigger and brighter than before. 

This was so humiliating.

Amren quickly extinguished the flames with her magic before turning to you. “Well, you set fire to something, girl.”

You let out a shaky breath, and your shoulders slumped in defeat. “What’s the point? What is the point of having all of this power, if I can’t even control it?”

“It comes with time, girl.” Amren said softly.

“You need to wield your power like a weapon,” Cassian said, his eyes meeting yours. “Picture a sword, how you would strike it. Where you’d point it. Focus all of that energy into it, then release.”

You blinked at his advice, eyes wandering to the siphons atop his hands, the ones that he told you helped control his power. He too, had once not been able to control his magic, and he also had to learn to hone it. You nodded slowly at him, and used your mind to raise the sheet of paper on the floor. 

You closed your eyes as you slowed your breath, picturing the sword in your mind, pointing towards the paper in front of you. You gathered the magic, honing it to flame, the flame that had once burned your village down, the ones you hadn’t been able to stop. You focused that flame, breathing it into the sword, the anger burning through it. 

Then, you released it. 

Smoke filled your nostrils and you opened your eyes, to see the flames licking the edges of  the paper, the corners turning into ash. Tears welled into your eyes, and you pushed them down. 

But you didn’t push down the smile that now graced your lips. 

“Thank you Cassian.” You whispered, and let go of the flame. 

“Why don’t you come to training with me and Az?” 

You quirked an eyebrow at Cassian’s offer. “Training, like, learning how to fight?”

“Training your body, gaining control over it, it helps with controlling your power, easing your mind.” Cassian said. “It also doesn’t hurt to know how to defend yourself.”

Defend yourself, as you hadn’t been able to months ago. Defend yourself, if your magic couldn’t.

You looked to Amren, who nodded her head in approval. “I’ll try it.”

“We meet at sunrise every morning at the House of Wind, you’ll find me and Azriel at breakfast to take you there. I’ll have Rhys get you some leathers.”

“Okay,” You nodded your head, and he smiled before bidding goodbye. 

You looked at the ashes on the ground, the burning piece of paper that lay before you. It quickly disappeared, and was replaced with a pristine, unburnt sheet. 

“Again.” Amren ordered.

You closed your eyes, and pictured the sword.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

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[anyca786]

"THERE IS SOMEONE WE WISH TO INTRODUCE YOU TO"

Daemon Targaryen x sister/aunt!Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen

WARNINGS: canon typical incest/targcest (brother & sister &niece) poly relationship, family fluff, Alicent being a bitch.

Series

When Daenys, Daemon and Rhaenyra along with their children made their way to Kingslanding after many years of exile, they did not expect such a cold greeting.

No one was present in the courtyard and it was clear that they weren't welcomed here.

Daenys has arrived on dragon back, while Daemon and Rhaenyra arrived by the carriages along with the children and the handmaidens.

Ser Steffon announced their arrival, "All hail Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone and Heir to the Iron Throne, and her royal consort Prince Daemon-"

The gate open once again, revealing Daenys.

"and Princess Daenys"

Daenys walked over to her family with a smile as she assisted Rhaenyra in stepping down from the carriage.

"Thank you, my love," Rhaenyra pecked her cheek and finally took in the sight of the Keep. This was the place where she grew up and somehow it did not feel like home at all. There was only one person that showed up.

Lord Caswell was the only one for their arrival. "Welcome back Princesses." the man stepped forward so he was now in front of the royal family.

"Lord Caswell." Rhaenyra greeted, but still mildly shocked and offended by the lack of greeting from the others.

"Lord Caswell. I'm happy to see that you are doing well," Daenys smiled at him.

"I was expecting better," Rhaena comments earning a snort from Luke and a smirk from Daenys.

They made their way inside and immediately noticed that the Valyrian decorations that were once proudly displayed had been totally replaced. The Three Dragons couldn't help but grimace.

"I would say it's nice to be home, but I scarcely even recognize it," Rhaenya uttered with a twitched eye when she saw the seven-pointed star.

"Mm.' Daemon eyed his surroundings in disgust.

"Viserys wouldn't let this happen," Daenys commented, grabbing Daemon's hand. Five years have passed and not once did Daenys communicate with Alicent or her children.

She was disappointed and ashamed hearing rumors of Aegon's horrific behavior toward women. It made her lose all hope for him. She thought of Halaena and Aemond, hoping they were doing well. She wondered how Viserys third son, Daeron looked like. She have never met the boy, courtesy of Alicent and Otto sending the boy away to Hightowers.

"What's wrong, my love?" Daemon asked, when he noticed her silence the whole time they made their way through the Keep.

"I was just thinking of Helaena and her children. She has twins; a boy and a girl, just like me. I might consider seeing her later when we settle down."

The children went straight to their assigned rooms, Daenys's handmaiden assured her that she'd be with the younglings the whole time.

Daenys gave the little ones, final kisses on their heads as they parted their ways.

Walking towards Viserys's chamber, Daenys held Daemon's and Rhaenyra's hand to calm her nerves.

The room was dark but the sunlight entered the windows and curtains. Rhaenyra was first to let go and approach the weak King while Daenys and Daemon stayed close to one another.

Rhaenyra called out to her father, "Father?" she slowly sat on the side of his bed.

"Who goes there?" Visery's voice sounded dry and cracked.

"It's me, my King..Rhaenyra," she said gently with a slight break in her voice at how her father looked. "I'm here with Daenys and Daemon."

"Oh," Viserys exhaled, the smallest smile graced his face but faded away when the pain settled in again, "Help me up"

Rhaenyra gently helps up sit up from the bed.

"It's been so long," Viserys cried.

Daemon took a deep breathe and avoided Viserys eye contact and Daenys grabbed his arm in comfort, her eyes pooling with tears. Guilt ran through both of them, for leaving their brother defenseless in the viper's den.

"The Seasnake has suffered a grave injury in the Stepstones," Daemon said.

"When?" Viserys asked, shaking his head. "We won that war years ago?"

"No, the Triarchy is resurgent," Daemon responded finally stepping forward to confront Viserys for the first in years properly without any quarrel or resentment. "The fighting is the answer, brother. There is a petition to decide upon the succession of Driftmark."

"Petitions?" Viserys asked, bringing a hand to the bandage over the half of his face. He slowly rubbed at the skir underneath, "Alicent and Otto...they see all that business now."

"No, brother listen to me," Daemon said, "You are to affirm your position for Lucerys, to be Corlys Velaryon's successor-" He pressed.

Daenys grabbed his arms, signaling now is not the time.

The King slowly smiled seeing his sister yet concern filled his tone, "Has something happened to Lord Corlys?"

The door opened to reveal two handmaiden's along with Aegon, Viserys, Aegor and Viseria.

"Father" Rhaenyra said to Viserys softly, "There is someone we wish to introduce you to,"

As Rhaenyra goes to grab the children, Viserys pants in exhaustion and pain, seeing Daemon and Daenys he acknowledged them.

"Daemon... Daenys"

"Brother," Daemon said, while Daenys held back her tears.

'Who is that?" Viserys asked as Rhaenyra got ahold of the little Prince who giggled happily.

Daenys grabbed Aegor wrapped in a soft bundle, from the handmaiden, placing a kiss on his small forehead.

"Father.. this is Aegon," Rhaenyra said proudly, "And this.. is Viserys"

"Ah, Viserys.. " he said happily, his eyes filled with life for the first time in years carefully touching the baby. "Now that is a name fit for a King."

His eyes fell on his sister, "Daenys... who is that?"

"This is Aegor" Daenys managed a weak smile not wanting to cry at his appearance, "And-"

"And is this Viseria," Daemon said cradling the Princess in his arms.

"Look at you, a mother now" Viserys chuckled, but suddenly he started to feel pain making the children panic. Daemon handed the baby princess to the handmaiden, when she started crying hearing her older brothers.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." he said apologetically in a breathless tone, "Please. My tea, My tea."

"What tea?" This?" Daemon gestured to the cup at his beside the table.

"Yes. Yes." Viserys cried.

Daemon handed his brother the cup making him sigh in relief after taking a big gulp. Daemon took the cup back and smelled it as he gave his wives a suspicious look.

🥀

Daemon decided to take a seat while Daenys sat on his lap, his arm was wrapped warmly around her waist. They watched Rhaenyra pace back and forth in the room.

"He looked like a diferent person," Rhaenyra commented her face willed with trouble. "I believe that we should also consult Maester Geraadys. Perhaps if he could see the King he'd suggest a different --" Rhaenyra extends her hand and Daemon grabs it gently.

But before anyone could comment the doors opened and Alicent Hightower walked in with her head tall wearing a dark green dress with a seven-pointed star adorning her chest.

"Princess Rhaenyra." Alicent looked at Rhaenyra then finally settled on the other two and paused momentarily to catch her breath when she caught sight of the purple-eyed Targaryen sitting on her husband, without any shame.

"Princess Daenys, Prince Daemon. It has been so long since we were granted the joy of your presence."

Alicent's eyes fell on the faded scar on Rhaenyra's arm which she covered and then on Daenys, she could see a faint scar hidden behind the necklace.

Daemon glared at the Queen and pulled Daenys closer.

"Indeed it has been, Alicent," Daenys said, refusing to address her as the Queen.

'Though not long enough to merit a greeting upon our arrival," Daemon commented.

"I'm sure the Queen had pressing business, my love," Rhaenyra said to Daemon.

Daenys placed a hand on her stomach to ease her anxiousness. Rhaenyra gladly took hold of her aunt's hand in hers and lifted it to kiss the back of her hand before setting it back on her round stomach.

"Yes, what can either of us know about ruling a kingdom?" Daenys said bitterly.

"I do not rule, as you know. My father and I are merely stewards of the King's will and wisdom-"

"And how exactly is what wisdom expressed...hmm in blinks and wheezes? I'm surprised he could remember his own name." Daemon cocked his head to the side looking at Alicent, hatefully.

"King Visery's condition has worsened since you last saw him. He deals with a considerable amount of pain. The maesters-"

"Ah the Maesters," Rhaenyra chuckled lightly, walking over to Alicent,"It is they who keep him abled on the milk of the poppy, while the Hightowers warm his throne"

"Rhaenyra, if you would see him without it. Almost blind with suffering-" Alicent said with a slight tone of distress.

Daemon interrupts her"Alicent, I have no doubt it was...an act of purest mercy," He gently tapped Daenys's thigh and she gets up from his lap, then he walks over to Alicent, "but tell me, for the King's suffering did the maesters also prescribe the removal of Targaryen heraldry and the installation of its stead of various statues and stars?"

"The emblems of the Seven serve only to guide us on an uncertain path," Alicent said more sharply taking a bit of defense, "to remind us of a higher authority"

"What an insult to the Valyrian lineage! Thank the gods, my forefathers are not here to witness this" Daenys rolled her eyes.

Alicent flinched at her words making Daemon chuckle.

"And on the morrow, which authority will sit in judgment of my son's claim to his own inheritance?" Rhaenyra asked.

"That would be mine .. . and the Hand's" Alicent said.

Daenys huffed annoyed.

"But be assured, the Father is just and commands me to forget the accusations you have held in this room today." Alicent said and left the room.

"Cunt," Daenys commented making Daemon and Rhaenyra laugh.

🥀

Daemon was playing with Princess Viseria and Daenys was nursing Prince Aegor. Rhaena watched over Aegon, Viserys and Joffrey playing with their wooden toys while Jacaerys tried to cheer Lucerys up over something.

Rhaenyra walks in the chamber to her family, "Children, why don't you all start heading out? I need to speak to your mother and father"

Once the kids left it was just the three dragons.

Daenys carefully placed Aegor on the bed, sleeping peacefully, drunk on milk and walks over to her wife.

"Everything will go alright," Daenys said pulling her into a kiss, " Have you talked to Rhaenys?" She asked.

"She despises me." Rhaenyra huffed.

"Yes, but she hates Vaemond more. I wish you didn't have to be there," Daenys said, enveloping her into a hug "You should be resting, this stress isn't good for the babe."

Daenys pulls away not before kissing her lips again, Daemon joins them kissing Daenys passionately and placing a kiss on Rhaenyra's forehead.

"You both are so good to me." Rhaenyra stared at them with love in her eyes. How did she get so lucky?

"It's because I love you. And we care about you"

Daenys took her hand, and this time kissed the back of her hand, "Now let us not keep everyone waiting."

A/N: Will try to give you'll one more chapter today😭

[the-desilittle-bird]

Author's Note- I have been planning a Tywin Lannister Fic. If anyone has some ideas, you are free to share. For the meantime, enjoy this one and do tell me if you want a second part. Also requests can be made.

Thank you and Enjoy your reading!

The Crimson Lady

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary- The Greens and the Blacks gather to settle the war peacefully. And the Era of the One-Eyed King and Crimson Queen begins...

Tag List- @eliseline , @little-moonbeam-666 , @blackhoodlea, @omgsuperstarg, @shopping, @lizlovecraft, @dayane, @bbgmonsay, @michelle-26 , @all-things-fandomstuck, @hc-geralt-23, @chevelledahuman, @morganastrucker, @shrexy , @helloitsshitzulover, @daringboba, @minaxcarter, @b-tchymoon, @stargaryenx, @hukio, @saraelizabeth26, @targaryenmoony, @moon-light1415, @eudximoniakr

King Viserys 'The Peaceful' gone. King Aegon 'The Usurper' gone. Queen Rhaenyra 'The Black Queen' gone. All in the duration of no more than 2 years.

Prince Daemon 'The King Consort' killed. Prince Jacaerys 'The Heir of the Black' killed. Prince Lucerys killed. Prince Daeron Targaryen killed. Prince Jaehaerys killed. Countless casualties on both sides due to the war which was known to the common people as 'The Dance of the Dragon'.

The greens had seemingly won the war until their king was poisoned by his own kin, only a few moons into the rule again. Meanwhile, the Starks and the Velaryons convinced Rhaenyra's only living heir to assert her claim on the Iron Throne.

The council of states of the realm was divided. The whole realm was. The Blacks hailed princess (Y/N) Velaryon, naming her the rightful heir to the throne. The Greens wished to name Prince Aemond the King of The Realm.

Both the sides of the war had suffered the consequences of war. And the namely leaders of them had seen the most of the horrors; and both of them could mutually agree on only one thing. That the war must stop, on any basis.

(Y/N) sat blankly at the head of the table in Dragonstone, staring into a distance, distant from the ongoing argument as Corlys Velaryon and Cregan Stark fought on their next step in war.

She could feel the tiredness in her body, seeping through her brain and clouding it. She had lost her mother a mere moons ago, and her stepfather- or as the rumors suggest, father- some moons before her mother.

She was alone in this world, except for her youngest brother Aegon, who was too young to understand these things.

"Can I expect a few moments of silence?" She asked, growing agitated from all the noises around her. She could only wish for some peace in this chaotic world.

The council chamber fell into silence as both the lords watched their princess sigh in exhaustion, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Please take your seats," she commanded softly, gesturing with her hands.

The lords nodded in understanding, sitting down as they shared a worried look. They had seen (Y/N) grow up from a bright, cheerful girl to a dull and commanding lady.

"What do you wish for, my queen?" Cregan asked, as stiffly as he could as he observed the younger lady in the war. (Y/N) glanced at him, her gaze softening as she looked down at her hands.

"I wish for this to end. With me on the throne or without, a give no care," she stated, letting go of the truth she knew for a while. "But that throne belongs to you," said her grandfather.

Before (Y/N) could react, the door to the council chambers opened and a servant walked in, trembling harshly as he feared the rage of the war lords.

"What is it?" (Y/N) asked softly, making the boy look up at her. She could calculate that the boy was no older than her, possibly the same age, but she could see the differences between him and herself. While he was fearful of these lords, she commanded them, much to her inner dismay.

"A... a messenger from the... the Greens have came upon the doors," he said.

The throne room was in the state of alert. The Queen's Guard stood on the steps to the throne, each hand on the pommel of their swords, ready in case of any danger.

Cregan stood two steps down the throne, hand folded behind his back with his eyes glaring at the door, waiting patiently for the messenger to stride in.

(Y/N) sat on the throne, fiddling with her fingers nervously. Her eyes glancing to the door every second in caution.

The door opened at last, and a tall, hooded figure walked in, head hung low to hide his face. Though the man never looked up, (Y/N) was sure he could feel their curious eyes on him.

"You stand in the presence of Queen (Y/N) of Houses Targaryen and Velaryon, First of her Name. Rightful Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men. Rightful Lady of the Seven Kingdoms. Rightful Protector of the Realm. The Crimson Lady and The Eagle of Dragonstone."

"What is it that the Greens want?" Cregan asked, picking his words carefully. The man extended his hand, a scroll in his grip. Cregan and (Y/N) met each other's eye before (Y/N) nodded, making one of the knights present in the room, snatch the scroll from his hand, handing it to Cregan.

Cregan opened the scroll with care, an analytical eye reading it. He walked up to the queen who sat in her place with fear bubbling in her stomach.

"What now?" She whispered, looking at the scroll with fear. "They wish to negotiate for the throne, in peace," Cregan whispered back, his eyes casted down in respect. He heard (Y/N) gasp silently, eyes meeting her Valyrian ones.

"Should we accept?" She asked, looking around to shake off the nervousness. "It is your decision, (Y/N). Not mine or Lord Velaryon's," he stated, nodding back and walking down to his place.

"The Greens wish to negotiate with the Rightful Queen in peace," Cregan announced, making Corlys scowl. "This is just another one of their schemes to butcher us like sheep," the Lord of Driftmark said.

"I can assure it isn't, Lord Corlys," the voice of the messenger startled everyone, making the knights of the Queen's Guard draw their swords and point to the man.

The man looked up, letting his hood fall back to reveal the face of the second son of King Viserys and Queen Alicent. A smirk appearing on his visage as he saw the look of fear on everyone's face.

"Prince Aemond," (Y/N) greeted with a nod, standing up from her seat. With swift and soft steps, she strided to him, ignoring the fearful looks of the lords.

"You are aware we could imprison you here," (Y/N) said matter-of-factly, making her uncle hum as he looked at her with interest. "And give my family the message that you wish to continue this war, resulting in more deaths," Aemond replied.

(Y/N) observed her uncle, once who used to be her favorite companion. He had matured during the war. His hair shorter than before, braided to keep the hair away from his face. His face had become more sharper with time, if it was possible. He had grown taller during the period of this war.

Aemond had seen (Y/N) the last time before his father's death and now, with her in front of him, he couldn't help but notice the changes. She had grown an inch or two taller, still rather short compared to him. Her face more defined than the last time he saw her. Her hair shorter due to the war and pulled back in a bun.

Eyes traveling down, he noticed the prominent curves she have developed in last two years. Her usual bright gowns had now changed into a black and deep red gown, fit for a queen.

"We will come, uncle," (Y/N) announced after a while of thinking. "But if this is some scheme of yours and your snake mother's, then know, that neither your family nor my council can stop me from marching onto King's Landing."

Aemond could see the threat clearly, and he nodded sincerely. "Thank you for your kindness, princess," Aemond bowed, his eyes sincere. (Y/N) only nodded, her eyes followed Aemond's movements as he turned around and walked out of the throne room, not even glancing back.

"My Queen, are you sure?" Corlys asked, as everyone visibly relaxed after the Prince was gone. "He killed your father," Cregan added. "I am sure, Lord Corlys. Thank you for your concern," (Y/N) said, leaving the throne room as well.

Gods above seemed to play a game with the young Targaryen as she and her small troop of advisors arrived at the keep with a furious rainstorm outside.

(Y/N) was greeted at the entrance by Otto Hightower, who despite his scowl was able to give the princess a hard and distasteful smile.

He had led the group to the small council chamber, where (Y/N) could recognize the Green's Council Members.

Prince Aemond and the Dowager Queen Alicent and the representatives of Houses Baratheon, Lannister and Strong sat on one side of the table with an empty seat reserved for Otto by his daughter's side.

"Please, have a seat," Alicent said stiffly, as she glared at (Y/N). The young She-Dragon nodded, stepping forward to sit in front of Aemond as her loyal advisors followed and soon, the other side of the table was filled with the Blacks.

"We all are aware of the reason for which we gather here," Otto started, glaring quite openly at Rhaenyra's daughter. Alicent glanced at her son, whose gaze was focused on (Y/N).

"So, on behalf of my king, I would like to propose that you and your army kneels to the rightful heir of the realm, Prince Aemond. You all will experience the King's kindness and will not be charged for treason or such."

Cregan scoffed loudly, making Otto glare daggers at the young Lord of Winterfell. (Y/N) sighed tiredly, looking at Cregan as if to ask silently 'what are you doing'.

"My Queen, may I?" Cregan asked formally, making (Y/N) nod. Cregan nodded in gratitude, standing up to meet the eyes of the Greens.

"We all are aware of the person who is the rightful heir, and it is our Princess (Y/N). As a benevolent Queen, she ask you all to kneel before her in peace, and stop the war right here. There is no need for anymore bloodshed to take place, no need for more innocent people to die and face the consequences of our action."

And thus, the verbal fight began between the Greens and the Blacks. Corlys and Cregan defended their queen while the Lannisters and Otto listed Alicent and Aemond's kind actions.

"Can we not discuss this in peace?" (Y/N) asked after a while, fed up of the elders fighting like children for the throne. She looked at her army's commanders scoldingly, glancing at their seats before looking at them.

It seemed Cregan and Corlys were smart enough to get the silent gesture, settling in their seats as they grumbled to themselves. Childish adults, (Y/N) thought to herself while sighing, sinking into her seat as well.

"Grand Maester Orwyle, you have heard the arguments yourself. What do you suggest?" Aemond asked, leaning towards the table, raising a perfect eyebrow at the man.

"My prince, my princess, lords and ladies," Orwyle stood up, nodding at each other as he greeted everyone. "I see potential in both Prince Aemond and Princess (Y/N), and thus, I suggest an alternative. I suggest that the Prince marries his niece and the crown's authority shall be shared between them."

"Princess (Y/N) is already betrothed, maester," Cregan said smugly, his eyes traveling to catch Aemond's. "Betrothals are important, my Queen," Corlys started, looking at (Y/N). "Especially when we are going through a war. Alliances are important," he continued.

"Betrothals and holding alliances are important, but so is putting the war to an end," (Y/N) murmured. "Grand Maester Orwyle, we thank you for the suggestion," (Y/N) said with a smile, making the older man smile widely and sit.

"I agree with maester's idea," Aemond said, looking intensely at (Y/N), who seemed to hesitate a bit. He watched as she turned to look at Cregan and Corlys, her eyes asking for a silent affirmation.

"The suggestion is a valid one, Princess (Y/N). We are aware of your wishes to stop the war and this is the best way to do it," Alicent spoke for the first time. The princess in question could only nod, a sigh releasing from her throat.

Her eyes looked up to find Cregan's. 'What should I do?' She mouthed, noticing Cregan lean in. "Remember all he has done to you. Slayed your brother and fa... step-father," Cregan whispered, his eyes fixed at Aemond.

(Y/N) sighed again and nodded, her eyes finding Aemond's. All the memories she had of her uncle resurfaced one by one, a longing feeling settling in.

"I... I agree with the idea."

The fate was sealed, and the destiny was set. The Greens' faces broke into small smiles as they looked at each other, while the Blacks could only sulk in silence.

"Then it be known, the prince and the princess shall be married within a fortnight and be crowned King and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms," Alicent said, standing up. "You are welcome to stay here, in the keep for the duration, Lady (Y/N)."

And so did the journey began of the One-Eyed King and the Crimson Queen.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hi there! I wondering if you could do an imagine with Morpheus x Reader where he catches y/n dancing to See You Again by Tyler the Creator and joins her in like a slow dance or continues to watch her in amusement. I just think the song is cute for him in a relationship dynamic. Also I really love your one-shots and how you write him. :`)

Make It Last Forever

Dream of the Endless x Reader

Summary: I wonder if you look both ways when you cross my mind.

Word Count: >800

Warnings: gender neutral!reader, they in da club, dream in LOVE, fluff™, typos, etc.

A/N: i literally just listened to this song rn (and by right now when you sent me this req all-hail-draculaura [btw i love ur url monster high purr HAHAH]) and the line, which is the summary, UGH GOOD SOUP! honestly, i feel like dream would like this song alshflhasfla HAHAAH i agree its a cute song for a relationship dynamic dont mind me just imagining dream dressed as my punk goth boyfriend like the gif as we go out clubbing, not that i have ever been clubbing before, but i would if i had him Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9 @sloanexx

Dream was leaned against the table, arm rested on his side as he faced his lover, his lover that was fogging his senses, making his hands twitch, making his lips curl.

You were become his everything, and to a being that was there in the beginnings, that was a lot.

You were a good dancer. Dancing had drastically evolved throughout the ages, they highly varied with each species, and yet, here you were, swaying your hips absentmindedly and you had him in a chokehold.

You were mouthing the lyrics, moving on beat, moving by heart.

He watched how your face lit up when the next song played. He knew it well, for the artist had been musing his lovelorn often in the Dreaming. The Dream Lord now could practically see the memory of you first listening to the song, slowly loving it more and more.

He watches you turn with your hands in the air and your eyes closed. He can feel his being swell, even more overwhelmed with tenderness for you.

He stiffens when you turn to him and smile. He feels like a deer caught in headlights. His heart leaps up to his throat.

You dance over to him, so very suddenly off beat, so very suddenly making a horrible face, so very suddenly ripping his beating heart out of his chest with an emotion mere words could never describe.

The King of Dreams jumps out of his chair when you trip on your own feet because of your shenanigans. The rooms goes silent to him when he dashes and you fall to his arms, looking up to him like a bashful calf, unable to keep their body upright.

You smile at him and laugh. He does not hear it, nor does he make out what you say as you lean into him, making the very fabric of his existence ripple with a feel of contentment he has never felt in his eons of being.

You lead him back to his chair, smiling as you explain whatever it is you were explaining, then you reach out for his face, brushing his hair back, retracing the bridge of his nose, tapping the tip before leaning in to giggle.

And it was as though he was being born back into the world when he finally hears the words you sing as the music pans into his ears.

"You're the one that's always running through my daydreams-- have you been listening to a word I've been saying, baby?"

Dream sucks in a breath as you look at him with wide eyed inquisition. The scent of you doubles when you lean in. He feels a guilt crawl up his nape, "I admit I was too distracted to make out your words."

You let out a breath, annoyed but not really, no. In place of it, a concerned expression creeps up to your cheeks, "wait, is it the vibe? Are you not enjoying yourself? Are you overwhelmed by everything?"

Dream chuckles, turning to his lap, shaking his head, "I enjoy all we do together." He turns back to you, hand coming to your face, thumb rubbing your skin, "it is you that is overwhelming."

You freeze. You grow rigid.

"Your mere presence is so much to me that my being continuously tunes into segments of you, unwilling to miss a even the smallest fraction of your being. In all its irony, however, I miss other parts."

You watch as a line forms on his forehead. Truly, it was as though his concern for the matter was being emitted out into the air. A breath leaves your lips as you melt into a chuckle.

You think of something to say, "so... what you're saying is... I'm too hot to handle?"

A glass is broken in the other table. Neither of your break your gaze on each other.

Dream smiles, "in simpler terms," he agrees as he pulls your chair closer to him. He widens the gap between his legs so that you could bring yours in the middle, "though I fear such simple terms do not compensate for how utterly drawn my soul is to yours."

You hold back a smile, taking both his hands in yours, bringing them near you. You take a moment to look at him, chuckling with a wide grin before speaking, "and I love you."

He sighs, in a relief that matches someone who just removed the weight of the world off his shoulders. Dream leans in to kiss your lips. Your shared warmth is a salve for the burning yearning of his spirit to be comforted.

Offensively though, you offer him one short kiss and he very visibly frowns because of it. You giggle as you stand, releasing one hand of his to tug him in the other. You tilt your head to one side, slowly pulling him with you, "come on, Mr. Poet. Let's get out of here."

[officialdaydreamer00]

{The Saintess}

Legends said, since the dawn of time, there born an omniscient being in the barren Kingdom of Blizzards.

The Kingdom itself was covered in layers of snow, and a chilling cold of an eternal winter. A curse that a travelling mage has casted unto the land, for untold reasons. Crops could never grow in their land, the people suffered from famine, and the weather only made it worse. The Kingdom prayed to the above, begging for their sufferings to stop, day after day.

Then, one day, The Being awakened. It appeared in front of the King and the Court, and [REDACTED], [REDACTED]. It let out a loud cackle and disappeared. And thus the snow melted into rivers and lakes, and srpingtime came to the Kingdom of Blizzards once again.

“While whatever happened inside the Palace was deliberately destroyed, we do see the ongoing presence of a cult formed to worship the nameless being. The strange thing about this cult was that every recorded member had white hair and skin as pale as fresh snow.

Every hundred of years or so, a child was born with glassy white eyes and divine healing powers blessed by The Being itself. That child would be hailed as the saint or saintess, and raised until they reached sixteen. Only then, they would be offered to The Being, as a white eyed child was what it asked for in return of breaking the curse.

The most recent child with white eyes was a young girl with, surprisingly, hair as black as ebony. We managed to find some interesting information about her, even pictures, but never the girl herself. Perhaps the records might tell us anything that happened...”

— Archeologist [REDACTED], The curious case of the Lost Saintess.

Name: Eirene Leblanc

Age: 16

Sex: Female

Title: The 13th Lost Saintess

Born to the wealthy yet childless family of the LeBlancs, Eirene was considered a blessing, as there were no white eyed children born in the last thousand years.

The Council was put off that little Eirene had black hair, yet they could not deny her rightful white eyes. She was hailed as a Saintess until the fated day of her offerings. The people said that the room turned dark, blinding everyone presented, and there was the sound of horses neighing. Then, the Saintess disappeared.

It was an unprecedented phenomenon, as The Being appeared as a bright ball of white lights to take away the previous Saints or Saintesses.

Her whereabouts were never found, and the story of Saintess Eirene Leblanc became an urban legend whispered amongst the denizens of the Kingdom of Blizzards.

Little did they know, their Saintess laid asleep, a ebony carriage sending her to a castle looming in the distance...

taglist🏷️ @azulashengrottospiano @aqua-beam @siren-serenity @identity-theft-101 @dove-da-birb @xen-blank @thehollowwriter @cookiesandbiscuits @taruruchi @cave-of-jade

remember to reblog and leave a comment ♡

[blood-driven]

“You’re so cute when you’re desperate~ It gets loney + @hail-the-one-eyed-king​

 here bring me more of Haise’s things~ And I’ll consider it”

[2-dsimp]

Hi, it's NightFlurry again with some more ideas about bad endings or background stories for yandere genshin characters. I'm free for anyone to add to my thoughts or comment if it's friendly and appropriate!

The country they rule is called Teyvat(obviously), and each is separated by different kingdoms depending on the element and belief they possess. Ex. Zhongli's dynasty Liyue worships the element Geo known for its contracts that last as old as the kingdom itself. Ei's empire Inazuma worships Electro, a domain rumored to have lasted for eternity hence why the people look so young and lively. Venti's kingdom Mondstadt worships anemo, for the kingdom should be as free as the winds itself. The ever-mysterious fallen kingdom Khaneriah, a thriving kingdom built with wits and determination that one day fell due to a great calamity. This continues more and more.

Their majesty's/highness (reader), kingdom Seizon-sha, doesn't worship any element instead, they worship the sun, stars, and moon, for they are the guardians of fate, time, and evolution. A kingdom large enough to rival Liyue's dynasty. However, is crippled by a lack of successors and dies from the hands of debt after spending it on foolish lavishes. This is why the King and Queen are desperate to marry their sons and daughters to wealthy kingdoms.

Some characters are Albedo, the royal high mage nicknamed the ice wizard because he lived in the ice-cold mountains of Dragonspine, but for his ever-ice-cold expression. Nobody knows his story, only knowing that he hailed from the hills of Mondstadt and then suddenly arrived at their kingdom's doorstep to work as their kingdom's mage. This surprised many people because, for a mage of his caliber, many would've expected he'd pick a more prosperous domain like Liyue or perhaps seek out the more profound mysteries of magic in Sumeru. The Mage was a bigger mystery, always locking himself inside his room for ungodly hours only to come out for refreshments or stock up on supplies. Only interact with the servants or knights when he's out and about, only talking if it's business or something important. The mage didn't even seem interested in the royal family, barely sending them a glance when they passed by, always giving quick, emotionless answers, not even sparing a hello when nobles came by. The only person the mage was willing to talk to was their Highness. The mage suddenly started conversing with them one day, and their friendship began! Or so he wants their majesty to think The image was a strange one since he never asked any of the maids to clean his room, not even when the room was so unattended when a maid, who was sent there to give him his afternoon tea, was met with a storm of dust as soon as the mage opened the door. The mage gave a quick 'thank you' before shutting the door. Nobody knew that if the maid looked a bit longer, she would've seen the erratic piles of portraits depicting their majesty in different poses strewn across the floor. Nobody knew that the mage secretly teleported their Highness into his room during their break to work as his assistant with his experiments. How can their majesty look so innocent when they sleep, not knowing a certain mage was sitting by their bedside frantically drawing in his notepad every night. Using his new invisibility magic to sneak past the guards so the reader and him. Oh, their Highness looked so cute when the new book they wanted suddenly appeared on their doorstep one day; perhaps a maid heard it! Or perhaps their stalker? When one day, a spell became wrong, transforming the mage into a lowly toad. Thankfully their Highness was there to help them, oh? You don't need to get someone else. A kiss would do, and I'm afraid Sucrose is away, so you'll have to do it. If you look closely, the crumbled page on how to properly reverse the spell sat within the ashes of the fireplace, and is it strange that the ever-prefect mage suddenly got the spell wrong just when the majesty was there?

"Your Highness, I conducted a new potion using the ingredients you generously gifted me a while ago. I'd like to call it 'Forever Yours,' a love potion growing among young nobles, so I created a potion to see if it holds any value. I also added my own twist to enhance the effects of the person that'll drink it to be utterly in love with the first person they see. You should try it since you are here. Unfortunately, I can't use myself to test it since if I get it wrong, I won't be conscious enough to create a cure. Don't worry, your highness. I'll be by your side in case something happens. So, please...Drink...Every...Last...Drop...."

Another character is Xiao, the stoic bodyguard of their highness, known among his fellow knights. as "the Vigilante Yakasha, the Conqueror of Demons" because of his demon-like power as he effortlessly sweeps through with the flurry of the wind. Seen training from the sweet crack of dawn to the quiet evening of night, not even the never-ending rain has stopped the knight from training. A mystery even to the king since he never shares anything about himself unless it's business and never goes outside the castle's walls unless accompanied by their majesty. The knight was found years ago during a royal family outing. The royal family was enjoying their time basking under the warm rays of sunlight as they greeted their people; the peace diminished when one of the guards noticed that the young heir was missing. Panicked ensued as the knights began searching for the missing heir, who they found wrapping a bandage over a beat-up orphan deep within the dangerous parts of the kingdom. The child was apparently an escaped slave from an abusive family who escaped with the skin of his teeth from the relentless dogs and soldiers that chased him. The child could flee to their kingdom before surviving on thrown-out food and living inside old buildings before being beaten by a shopkeeper for stealing bread. The heir later found him in his sorry state because the heir noticed the child's whimpers of pain while wandering. With enough pleading, the heir convinced the king and queen to let the orphan, which the Highness later named Xiao, stay at the castle as a stable boy, allowing him the opportunity to rise among the social ranks if he so wished. So for years, Xiao remained in the kingdom due to the royal family's kindness. He felt indebted to the heir since they were the angel that saved him from hell. Nobody deserves his goddess; if anybody disagrees, they'll find their tongues ripped out. What nobody knew was that during the years, the heir would constantly make visits to the cold man to talk and leave little gifts for him. Throughout the following years, he rose through the ranks and landed himself a spot as a knight due to his remarkable skills with a spear. He trained for months in unbearable training and fighting against many enemies, from armies built of thousands of men to monsters that could shake the world. He was revered for his accomplishments in winning even the most hopeless battles and his stoic-no-nonsense expression as he tore down his foes. So, why would a man with so many achievements step down to become a measly bodyguard of their Highness? He always states his reports to the king with the same blank look, casting a side glance at his fellow knights before returning to training, ignoring the blushing maids as they stare at the young knight. The only expression the servants could wring out from the cold guard was dangerous narrow eyes and a threatening grip on his sword as a servant almost burnt them with hot tea after tripping on a loose tile. Doesn't that fool realize he could've seriously injured his goddess's precious hands?!? This fool deserves to rot in hell. Somebody as worthless as him shouldn't even dare to be in the same room as them. Poor children, if only they saw the signs of unhealthy obsession. If their highness looked closely on their balcony at night, placed inside the branches of a nearby tree, lay a certain knight watching from the shadows over the sleeping form of their highness. What if somebody decides to kill them in their sleep? As their guard, I must protect them from anybody. Oh, my poor goddess, so vulnerable...so beautiful....so unsusceptible of the cruel world.... Or perhaps if they noticed that every time a noble so much as sneers at their highness, their body was soon found in a nearby alley practically mauled by a powerful demon. The demon is closer than you think, your highness. could be perhaps standing next to you, watching your back... and making sure to protect you...even if it means killing everyone in their path...

"Your Highness, please refrain from jumping out the window again I won't catch you the next time you call me. …What, but don't dare call anybody else to name besides my own. Those incompetent knights can barely protect themselves, how would they fare to protecting you? I swore that the day I became your knight, I would protect you from the evils and unworthy of this world. Besides, why are you sneaking out again? You wanted to explore the town square? …fine...but I'm coming with you. I swear, I won't rat you out to the king that you snuck out again, but you must promise me one thing...That I'm allowed to annihilate any foes that dare cross our path, and if they dare lay a filthy finger upon you..... they'll find their entire arm missing."

Ahhhh, my fingers hurt like heck after writing all this....x _ x Well, I hope you enjoyed my first writing about the idea of the Fantasy Au. I just wrote these characters because they were the first person I could think of, if you want a certain character please ask. Please comment or ask me more about it.

o(^▽^)o

This is good food right here!!!

I’m really loving how your brain works especially since I can practically picture what it’ll look like In game form. There’s something about royal high mage albedo that makes my mind go brrrr and turn into rot. Since he tried to give the reader a love potion for “demonstration” purposes XD.

I’ll definitely let you know if I have any more comments or questions about your wonderful idea. As always thanks for stopping by and if you have anymore to share fill free to dump it all in my inbox! o(≧v≦)o

[mutable-manifestation]

The Ghost King (of Miscommunication) Ch. 24

Part 1-12,Part 13,Part 14,Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23

Part 24!

Me, trying to write the DC characters in-character and desperately trying to sort through the various timeline changes to get a rough idea of how they should/would behave, in patrick star voice: WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE!?

Anyway, this took forever but here it is.

***

Deadman is really feeling his namesake not five minutes into Batman grilling him for details on the Realms.

The guy sure can glare.

‘I don’t know what the majority of the place looks like because I never left Rama’s side when I was there’ is apparently unhelpful, but he can offer them what he read about it - an endless expanse dotted with doors and islands and other small structures.

“Doors are always lairs - ghost homes, basically - if they’re floating alone, but the ones on islands can be normal doors - mostly. You can kind of get a feel for which are which. Islands vary from lairs to wilds, but you can’t really tell based on appearance since a ghost might just want a jungle lair. Our best bet is to just not open any doors or land on any islands.”

“If everything is floating, is it like space? I mean, is there even any air in there?” Flash asks, brow raised.

“Yeah kind of! And no, everything is made of ectoplasm.”

“You said it was human-safe,” Robin glares.

“It is!” Deadman smiles guilelessly.

“How are we meant to breathe if everything is made of this ‘ectoplasm’?”

Apparently ‘You just do’ isn’t a very reassuring answer.

He throws his hands up at the collective bat-glares.

“Hey, hey, don’t shoot the messenger. I dunno what to tell ya here. Humans have ventured into the Zone before and they were breathing just fine. Went back to the land of the living in one piece with no problems. I’m no scientist, I can’t begin to tell ya the hows or the whys of it, but I guarantee you can all breathe just fine in there. Double-cross my core and everything. If it’ll make you feel better you can always bring air tanks or somethin.”

“Right,” Signal sighs, “We’ll figure something out. If we need to fly to traverse the place we’re probably better off taking the jet anyway, assuming you can make a big enough portal?”

“Uh,” Deadman stares at him, wide-eyed. “Who can make a what-now?”

“A portal,” Red Robin interjects. “If they’re required for you to access your home realm there’s no way you don’t know how to make them. How else would you have gotten to the ‘Zone’ originally to ‘not leave Rama’s side’?"

“Yeah, no,” he crosses his arms in an X for emphasis. “Portal powers are rare. Like, rare-rare, even in - maybe even especially in - the Realms. Rama can communicate through the veil with little effort, but even she had to use a complex ritual to summon me to her side and later send me back.”

“And yet the wolf just tore one open with a swipe of his hand,” Red Robin notes.

“Yeah, because he’s Wulf - it’s his name, by the by. With a ‘u.’”

“You know him?” Batman demands, leaning forward even more attentively.

“I know of him. I’m pretty sure no ghost doesn’t, what with how he’s the right hand of the High King of the Infinite Realms and all.”

“‘High King of the Infinite Realms?’” Constantine pipes up, voice high and strained.

“Yep,” Deadman pops the ‘p.’ “High King of the Infinite Realms, King of the Dead, or just ‘The Ghost King.’ He’s the guy that has the final say on everything in the realms. Like, if Hades and Anubis get into a fight, he’s the one to break it up, that kinda thing.”

There’s a long silence at that.

“But there’s no need to worry!” Deadman hastens to amend when the quiet stretches worryingly long. “The current king is a nice guy! He’s hailed as a hero for defeating the old tyrant king, Pariah Dark after he escaped the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep. And he’s been making a lot of positive reforms ever since he took the throne! Look on the bright side! At least you know your guy is getting the comfy treatment!”

“This entire mission hinges on us having access to the Infinite Realms,” Batman states, ignoring Deadman’s attempt at positivity and the implications of his son apparently being taken in by ghost royalty. “Do you think the ritual that was used for you to cross over would work for this?”

“I doubt it. It wasn’t a portal, I was literally just. Summoned. Here one moment, there the next, no tears in space involved.”

“Lucky us,” Oracle pipes up from where she’d been typing away since Wulf first swept Jason away, “We might have another option. I’ve got a few hits on ‘ectoplasm’ in the system. Old files - like, really old - and three of them mention portals.”

Tentative relief floods the room at a solution presenting itself nearly the moment the problem crops up.

“Two locations,” she continues, putting a picture of an…eccentric building on the display. “The first is a ghost-themed gift shop-slash-museum in a small town in Illinois. Records show the previous owners to be self-proclaimed ghost hunters with what the shop’s website calls a ‘full armory of ecto-weapons, sensors, and defensive tools.’ Apparently they sell replicas, keep the originals for the museum display. The portal has since shut down but the new owners have kept everything well-preserved and documented, despite passing it all off as a heavily-themed tourist trap.”

“A promising lead if the tech is truly functional,” Batman muses. “And the second?”

“An abandoned mansion in the middle of Wisconsin. Apparently the owner went missing but has automatic pay set up for taxes and things to remain ready for his return ‘in perpetuity’ - at least, until the money runs out - even in the event of his untimely death. Some financial consultant manages the whole thing, and has ever since he picked up where his father left off around 50 years ago.”

She takes a second to replace the eccentric building with two more images - a grand castle and a lab straight out of a mad science cartoon.

Or a very thematically dedicated rouge.

“Some housekeeping staff reported odd stuff in the basement, and a now-defunct government branch called the Ghost Investigation Ward - which was only functional for 3 years - came in and classified a lot of the stuff as ‘ecto-tech’ and even documented the presence of a ‘ghost-portal.’ They were going to claim the ecto-tech for research, but the Ward was shut down before the project could get any further. If it works like the paperwork claims, we may just have our way in.”

“If they were finding working portals to the afterlife then why was the Ward shut down?” Red Robin asks, disbelief scrawled across the visible parts of his face.

“A lot of things. Trespassing, destruction of property, entry without a warrant, false imprisonment, use of untested weapons, reckless endangerment, child endangerment, loitering, littering, stalking, harassment, emotional and psychological distress, assault… the list drags on. Apparently they were more lucky than competent, stepped on a lot of toes. Then they left some kind of weapon lying around and it ended up killing two kids. The parents and community as a whole had enough at that point - most of their work was in a single location, specifically the town with the museum portal - and came at them with every charge that they had any evidence for. Which was almost all of them.”

“Ah, so we might have a portal to literal hell or two just lying around in the middles of nowhere, America. And at least one of them is probably booby-trapped with a few deadly weapons,” Constantine snips. “Perfect.”

“It’s not hell, Constantine, it’s the afterlife as a whole,” Deadman corrects.

Constantine does not look soothed.

“The castle first,” Batman decides. “The sooner we get to Red Hood back, the better. Red Robin, get in touch with the consultant. Oracle, get a list of all the ecto-tech the Illinois location claims to have and what it can do. Flash, given your reaction to the portal earlier do you believe it would be better for you to remain behind?”

Flash flinches.

“I…just being near it was…horrifying. Going through it…I don’t know if I can. If the other side all feels that way….” He shudders. “I think I’d be better off guarding the portal from this side of things.”

“Right,” Batman agrees before turning back to Constantine. “What can we do to prevent a repeat of the earlier possession while we’re in there.”

Constantine’s right eye twitches, but he barely has a chance to open his mouth when Deadman answers for him.

“Oh, there’s no need to worry about that!”

Constantine slams a hand on the table as he stands.

“Like bloody hell there’s no need! If we go in there without preparation we’re all liable to end up short a ‘self’ to control!”

“You’re still thinkin in terms’a this side of things, Constantine. Things don’t work like that in the Zone.”

“What, so humans are just suddenly immune to being possessed so long as they’re surrounded by ghosts?” He tosses his arms in the air disbelievingly.

“No, I mean a living being in the Zone can choose to be outta step with it. Kinda like how stronger ghosts can choose to be outta step with this side to phase through things, or how I’m outta step by default. Living beings aren’t from the Zone so if you kinda focus on that lack of hold, nothing in the Zone can affect you - including possession. It’s why the new king kept some of the restrictions on bringing real-world items into the Zone - usually it requires a level of sentience, but without special care even generally inanimate objects could end up as untouchable debris somewhere. They can still follow you back to the human realm to hurt you, though, so I’d highly recommend avoiding inciting any grudges while we’re in there,” he tags on hastily.

“‘Generally inanimate?’” Batman asks.

“Eh, ecto does whacky things to real-world items sometimes,” Deadman shrugs. “It takes, like, at least a decade usually, but they can sort of gain just enough awareness to not want to be touched - like a flower fleeing shadows to chase the sun.”

“Poetic.”

“Eh, just trying to distinguish from, like, bugs and animals and stuff.”

“Right. We’ll have to run some tests from this side of the portal first. Given the involvement of this ‘High King’ I’d say this is an all-hands situation.”

“Given the way my powers work,” Shazam speaks up, “this High King is apparently my powers’ sources’ boss, I definitely want to be there.”

“Indeed,” Aquaman adds. “As a fellow King it is important to establish diplomatic retort. While the lead-up to this meeting is somewhat unfortunate, we can hope the conclusion will be as peaceful as Deadman believes and work towards that very outcome.”

Green Lantern and Wonder Woman nod their agreement.

“Then I will remain here, to look after the Earth in your absence,” Martian Manhunter says.

“I’ll let Guy and John know to contact you if anything comes up, then,” Hal nods.

With that, Batman stands.

“Let’s move.”

---------------------

Kevin Bordair - the estate manager for the departed Vlad Masters - was more than happy to have them explore the lab.

He had been very hands-off with the lab, as his father had instructed, but that lack of information on what might be festering down there….

When he’d looked over the more publicly available Fenton documents he’d discovered that it was…inadvisable to leave most of the materials in an ecto-lab to fester. Without proper filtration for so long there could be explosive results if anything turned on.

No one he’d contacted had wanted to enter the place.

His only saving grace was that the weapons were largely dormant and the portal had mysteriously shut down on its own some 20 years before he took over.

The lab itself didn’t have anything in the way of instructions - presumably the previous owner kept them all digital, but no one wanted to risk turning on the computer without a guarantee that it wouldn’t blow up.

Luckily, Bordair was eager for the potential to have them deal with the mess and had brought print-outs of the Fenton documents - including blueprints for the weapons and the portal that hadn’t been available digitally.

Most of the writing on them was practically chicken scratch, but between Oracle and Red Robin’s technical expertise they were able to work out a proper filtration method.

Five hours later, they had just enough clean ectoplasm to start up the portal and power a few of the net devices they’d found lying around. The rest was too decayed to use and none of the notes explained how to extract or synthesize more - the Illinois location’s documents stated that all of its ecto had been ‘properly disposed of’ decades ago.

The portal whirred up surprisingly quietly, green blooming to life with no more noise than the gentle hum of a refrigerator.

A portal to the afterlife, torn open with less effort than it took to put the Riddler back in Arkham after an escape.

Superman was the first to venture in - to test the atmosphere for the more squishy members of their groups, as well as the comms.

He reappeared not 10 seconds after he entered.

“Deadman was right, empty space all around. We’ll need to expand the portal to fit the batplane or pair off into flight-capable teams. No trouble breathing - felt just like an in-Earth atmosphere to me - but there’s nothing on the comms on my end.”

“I could just get us all some ghost phones?” Deadman offers, drawing all eyes to him.

“That’s a thing?” Constantine asks incredulously.

“Yeah! The Ghost King 2: Electric Boogaloo ma-”

“I’m SORRY? Ghost King 2???” Constantine interrupts, standing from his slouch against the only non-weapon-covered wall.

“There’s more than one ghost king?” Batman demands.

“Well, yeah? There’s only one High King, of course, but he’s got two spouses - his wife The Ghost Queen and his husband. Apparently the observants wanted him to have the standard ‘Prince Consort’ title, but the High King and the Queen were not having it because it sounded belittling or like he was less important? Something like that. The point is that none of them liked it, So King 2 decided if they wanted him to have a title that differentiated him from the High King he’d title himself Ghost King 2: Electric Boogaloo.”

Deadman leans forward gleefully, “Rumor has it that the only reason the title was approved - without the High King having to force it through - is because the Queen & High King couldn’t stop laughing whenever the observants said the title to try and contest it, which just made the big O’s angrier and angrier until they just ended up signing the approval to get them to leave.

Anyway, King 2 is all about tech stuff and he - alongside his right hand, Technus - is responsible for adapting modern technology to work throughout the greater zone. Fully functional stuff with all the bells and whistles are pretty limited, but simple headsets for vocal chat are pretty easy to get.”

“…Can you guarantee that we won’t just phase through them,” Batman asks.

“Nah,” he answers, waving a hand carelessly, “The old models are made with a split of real-world and ghost-zone materials, nothing can phase through them.”

“Do they accept human currency?”

“...Maybe?”

“Maybe,” he deadpans, crossing his arms.

“Give me a break! I never needed ghost phones before!”

“Do you even know where to get them?”

“Um. Most major lairs are supposed to have extras…?”

Batman pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath.

Red Robin coughs pointedly before he can begin to address the various problems with Deadman’s suggestion.

“The Fentonworks location lists having a dozen devices called ‘Fenton Phones’ in their display. Supposedly meant to act as interdimensional communication devices. If we sacrifice one of the nets we should have enough spare ectoplasm to power them all.”

“Flash.”

“On it!”

“Right. Expanding the portal isn’t feasible given the limited supply of ectoplasm. We can’t afford to damage this. We’ll have to pair off into teams of two - one flight-capable member each-” he cuts himself off, noticing the sudden hand waving in the air. “Yes, Deadman?”

“So, uh, mighta forgot to mention this before, but that’s really not necessary. Remember how I said you’re ‘out of step’ with the ghost zone? Yeah, you can also fly.”

“...I see. Are there any other things we might do in the ghost zone that we should be aware of in advance,” Batman asks, suppressing an eye twitch.

“Not really. Just don’t go offering up soul bits to randos like JohnCon here and try not to offend anybody.”

Constantine’s eye twitches.

---------------------

The museum is more than happy to lend them the Fenton Phones, thankfully. Once they’re all online they have just enough for each member of the team being sent in - Shazam, Green Lantern, Superman, Batman, Orphan, Red Robin, Signal, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, Constantine, and Deadman - and one for the team guarding the portal - Flash, Oracle, and Robin.

Down to two working net devices, they leave one with Robin in case of a ghost escaping into the living - a valid concern since the portal will have to remain open due to the lack of a seal other than ‘turn it off.’

The other stays with Batman for their journey into the zone.

He hopes things will remain peaceful as Deadman claims, and the ability to not allow themselves to be untouched made him much less uncomfortable going in with so little in the way of gear. Still, better safe than sorry - even if Deadman, Shazam, and Constantine should be able to act if needed - thus, the net.

Another quick test by Superman verifies the headsets work between the castle and the Zone, and Batman himself jumps in to test intra-zone communications - as well as to verify the flight ability.

With that confirmed and Deadman’s confirmation that he knows the way - mostly - and that it shouldn’t take more than a few hours to arrive, the rest of the Zone team files through the portal, taking a moment to get their bearings.

987 miles away, Dick and Stephanie lay sleeping in their rooms after their cover-patrol while Alfred has his breakfast and prays for his family’s safety. Below them all, a glowing green note falls to the floor in an empty cave.

***

@mayoota-blog1 @kyrianclawraith, @do3y, @someonebored0100 @omegasmileyface @a-star-with-a-human-name @akikoyuii @newgraywolf @tytythehistoryguy @lemccr

Fun Fact(s): Danny doesn’t do the whole ‘servant’ thing, but he got Wulf perma-freed from Walker’s prison unless Danny approved the imprisonment first (which he wouldn’t do without a good reason, and bringing in living world books doesn’t count)

& Wulf was like ‘I owe you’ to which Danny was like ‘Hey you really don’t have to but I should be able to make my own portals at some point and if you don’t mind can you teach me how so I can find xyz quicker to keep improving the GZ’ to which Wulf was like ‘of course! :D’

And he just kinda took to retrieving people/things on Danny’s behalf while he was still learning - akin to how Fright Knight retrieved stuff (crown, amity park, probably a few people’s heads/cores on a platter, etc) for Pariah Dark, earning Wulf the title ‘Right Hand of the High King of the Infinite Realms’ despite the fact that it was only sporadic stuff over the course of, like, three years (yeah, the portal power was a lot), which is how Deadman recognizes him (from the ‘Read these or else’ books)

Tucker absolutely jokingly refers to Technus as his minion sometimes (bc they’re tech buds now & Tuck’s a king. Just some friendly teasing) But the gossip chain don’t care, the gossip chain just went: That’s king 2’s minion [like wulf w a less-flattering title]

A scene I wanted to add but couldn’t make work: Superman: And also how anyone else is supposed to move in there, given the lack of a ground?

Batman: the what

Deadman, seeing opportunity: you just float

Batman: some of us can’t float

Deadman, grinning: We all float down there

Batman, who has seen the movie:...

[justakidicarus]

Dark Link - The Fall of a Hero (3/?) Part 2 - The Hatching's Interlude

This one has a lot of world-building. Assumptions can be found in the Prologue. This part does not actually include Link at all, but it does discuss him and builds a bit more on Drakeon as a character.

More notes for parts of the story mentioned and different pieces of worldbuilding I haven't been able to integrate into the fic are beneath the fic. Spoilers for the trailer of Echoes of Wisdom. This fic should be considered Non-canon to the events of Echoes of Wisdom and is heavily canon-divergent. Fic below the cut.

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“You failed to break in the Hero. Worse, you allowed him to escape.” The demon king growled from atop his throne as the silver Lizalfos strolled into the room with an air of nonchalance. Drakeon paid little mind to Ganon’s building rage, instead busying herself with checking over her staff. The little brat gave as good as he got, she could give him that. Still, it was only a matter of time before the scouting parties found his location. Once she knew where he was, it would be whelp’s play to bring him back.

Ganon’s growl deepened and the Lizalfos winced as she heard the boar slam his staff into the ground, an echo of’ Warning’ ringing through the room. The demon king hissed “Do not ignore me Hatchling. I am your King, and you will respect me as such.” The Darkness thickened and writhed, responding to its master’s fury.

“Ah get ya the results ya want better than any o’ your stuffy Fallen-born Monster ever could an’ you know it.” Drakeon pointed out, reminding him of why her insolence is excused. The Monsters of the Fallen were weak, used to gorging on Darkness so much that they became lazy and inefficient. Her kind never got that luxury. Drakeon herself didn’t even hail from the lands of Hyrule, far removed from its dark powers. Her people worked for every bit of strength they had and earned every bit of respect they received from both the land and her spirits. No fallen-born monster had the drive to bring the best out of a Monster. Only her kind, Whelp-born with enough grit and determination to make it to adulthood, had enough drive to get things done. Drakeon was the only Whelp-born to get on this side of the veil anyway. She was irreplaceable and they both knew it.

“You failed to get results this time. I do not tolerate mistakes.” Ganon said, eyes narrowing dangerously from what she could see out of the corner of her eye.

“An ah don’t tolerate them neither,” Drakeon shrugged, rolling and unrolling her tail. It had begun to grow past her comfortable length. She’d have to see if she could cut it down soon to something more manageable.

“And yet you deign to make one.” The Demon King rumbled, like the thunder warning of an incoming storm. Drakeon took a deep breath, looking to the sky where the veil between realms was at its thinnest.

“Tha Hero’s spirit is that of ah sublime beast.” She quoted from memory. The Divine Beast of Twilight’s words wore heavily on her shoulders, alongside his canine stare and sharp fangs. She turned to look directly at Ganon himself, not hesitating to make direct eye contact with the yellow-eyed boar. She tilted her head to the side as she asked: “Do ya ‘ave any idea what that means?”

She didn’t let the demon king get a word out before standing, swinging her staff in a ‘Listen’ motion as the room quieted to let her speak. “It means tha out there is a beast that ‘as a master, you if we wanna be technical. If ya chain up ah wolf, it’ll bite ya back real hard. If ya put a horse in lock up, it’ll kick ya whenever ya get near. If ya cage a bird, it’ll fly away first chance it gets.” She drawled, strolling around the room as her staff made barely audible clicks as she moved. “Ya don’t wanna piss off ah wild animal ya hear? Mah tribe an’ I lived among them, we know how they work. Ah won’t lie, Ah’ve met tha Hero type before too. Ah know how tha’ brat works better than ‘he does. Tame at first glance, feral as all hell the next.”

Ganon moved to speak. She slammed her staff down with her next step, ‘Warning’ roaring through the silent chamber. “Tha Hero’s spirit is that of ah sublime beast.” She repeated, the shadows of the room responding with her words, her lineage, as the veil thinned imperceptibly. “An treat a beast right, let it run free on tha wind, an’ feed it when it comes tah heel, and it’ll be loyal ferever more. Ah, don’t make mistakes Ganon.” She spat, tail swaying behind her as she twisted around toward the entryway, letting her words and their meaning sink in. She had her plan, and while the hero running didn’t make it easy, she knew what she had to do to bring him in.

As she made it to the grand doors, she glared over her shoulder at the demon king who remained on his throne, seemingly considering her words and what it would mean for his future strength. She remembered his earlier words. She wouldn’t let them go uncorrected. “An yer not mah King.” She hissed, slamming the doors of the throne room behind her on her way out.

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First (Prologue) -> Previous (Part 1: Recruiter's Call) -> Current (Part 2: The Hatchling's Interlude) -> Next

This is all the pre-written parts I have since Part 3 is what I hit my writer's block on. It's mostly finished too I'm just trying to get past the final bit of the part and then I could post it.

Lots of notes this time sorry for the chunks of text:

Drakeon hails from the Ordona Provence. Her tribe were reclusive and lived off the land, not encountering the Hero of Twilight until well after the events of Twilight Princess. As the tribe was considered citizens of Orodona Provenance by the Light Spirit due to a truce, Twilight was instructed by the spirit not to attack the Lizalfos. The tribe and Twilight had good albeit uneasy relations from Twilight’s side until the hero passed when his soul moved to the Twili realm post-mortem and he became the realm's divine protector. Drakeon’s tribe were gifted the ability to move through the veil between realms, which allowed them to travel to the Twili realm, where Drakeon met Twilight. Drakeon later travelled through the veil again but with different intentions, discovering the Downfall Timeline. She travelled it, met the Demon king's army, and enlisted for the fuck of it (and because she was disgusted with the attitude of the army and wanted to whip them into shape). Her strangeness made its way to Ganon and they met, Ganon promoted her to General and placed her in charge of all military training. She refuses to tell Ganon anything about her timeline, to his chagrin, but he would be a fool to kill such a valuable and irreplaceable asset.

While monsters are aware of the other timelines, they couldn’t travel to them. The Downfall Timeline calls their monsters Fallen-born (As the Hero of Time was killed), the Child Timeline Whelp-born (As the Hero of Time was a Child (a Whelp) when he thwarted Ganon), and the Adult Timeline Hero-born (as the Hero of Time was fully fledged in their timeline). Hatchling is an insult meant to poke at Drakeon’s Lineage as a Lizalfos hailing from the Child timeline, yes, Ganon is racist.

Ganon is in fact, not Drakeon’s demon king. TP Ganondorf technically is, but he never called the Ordonian Lizalfos to arms so they never caused trouble at the behest of darkness. If anything, the only being that could claim rulership of the tribe is Ordona xemself. And yes, Drakeon has an Ordonian accent and also identifies as Ordonian

Yes by locking up Link Ganon kinda fucked himself in the long run. Yes, Dark Link has obsessive loyalty to the demon king but that loyalty is magic-induced and as soon as Link is free from it he gives Ganon the mother of all wallops. Meanwhile, Drakeon gets to go free and unharmed because she was never overly cruel to Link. She treats him as she would treat a wolf pup that wandered into camp. Her more violent acts were corrections, not done out of cruelty and wanting to cause pain but more to correct his behaviour. Don’t misbehave, don’t get hurt. Drakeon gave Ganon the tools to keep Link permanently at his side. Ironically those tools are care, trust, and understanding of limits. Ganon disregarded this and paid the price while Drakeon got out of it with a free ally.

Anyway any sort of feedback is welcome within reason and if there are any questions, feedback, or suggestions feel free to comment or send an ask and I'll try to answer them.

I don't have a set time for when I'll be able to send the next part though so we'll see how it goes!