#his name shall be aspect for now

[twin-chains]

For this AU, there will be two groups of heroes with maybe six people per chain. I wanna include every canon game and then some but a few of them unfortunately might not make the final cut cause there’s just so many. They’ll definitely at least make cameos though.

Here’s the list of possible TC heroes so far:

Chosen (Skyward Sword) - maybe

Hero (mentioned in SS manga) - cameo

Mini (Minish Cap)

Mighty (mentioned in MC intro) - cameo

Four (Four Swords, FSA)

Neptune (Wind Waker, Phantom Hourglass) - definitely

Tracks (Spirit Tracks) - maybe

Mask (OOT, Majora’s Mask) - maybe

Twi (Twilight Princess, Crossbow Training lol)

Legend (ALTTP, Oracle games, Link’s Awakening) - definitely

Clover (ALBW, Triforce Heroes) - definitely

Ember and Aqua (Triforce Heroes) - cameo

Fay (TLOZ, Adventure of Link)

Star and Sun (BS TLOZ, AST)

Captain (Hyrule Warriors)

Tears (BOTW, TOTK) - definitely

Aspect (mentioned in TOTK) - cameo

Still debating on which ones to include and playing around with their designs. My aim is that the two chains are organized to better balance out and reflect each other without being too crowded or confusing

The heroes that will definitely be in the main chains are Neptune, Legend, Clover, and Tears!

[easy-there-leftovers]

I See You, Darling

[Astarion x reader] The idea never left my mind, and I so very badly need this right now. Heavily inspired by this cutscene where Tav chooses a dialogue option and Astarion's eyes just deviate-- (gif above, just wait for his eyes to look at you WKDKWKDK) |Word count: 2k.| Based off of this post I made.

Part 2 here!!

Also, this is more heavy on the world building rather than dialogue. If I end up making this a series, I might write with more dialogue in mind but it was just necessary to do this first afhjaqfbnjkafbnebn--

A story in which an overworked art student longs for a fictional character that they've devoted so much of their time to.

Alternatively; Astarion realizes there's someone else watching him. And he can't wait to get acquainted with them.

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

One.

Two.

Three.

It takes you three seconds to comprehend what just happened. Three seconds for you to try and save the progress you’ve already made so far. Three seconds for you to feel the chill of dread run up your spine. 

You’ll admit, perhaps you were simply tired. Attending a prestigious school for the arts doesn’t exactly leave you with much free time to indulge in more calming forms of recreation. Your course requires you to consume a wide array of media to expand your library of creativity, after all. All in the name of generating more interesting media to entrance and enthrall your audience with your original work. 

Maybe all the moving pictures and swimming texts have caused you to greatly misunderstand what you are seeing. Surely, your favorite character isn’t looking directly at you, right?

Right?

But before that, let’s review what might have happened earlier to explain just what exactly in gods name is happening.

Shall we?

——

You purchased the game a few months back. “Baldur’s Gate 3.” A game that took the players and immersed them in the world of Dungeons & Dragons, introducing them to the mechanics of tabletop RPG as they did. It seemed interesting enough. And if the concept of character creation and storytelling didn’t sell you on the idea of it, the pretty faces on the cover certainly did.

So, with the little money you could spare from your part time job at your own institution’s library, and with what little sanity you had left to argue with, you impulsively bought said game. And it was fun. Exhilarating. Electrifying. 

Until you ran into a problem.

Astarion. The rogue, elven vampire that you have chosen to romance after careful deliberation. You scoffed to yourself. He was one of the biggest reasons why you purchased the blasted game at all. You’ve carefully studied the character in all his glory, from his striking carmine eyes and delicate unstained curls, to his aptitude for bloodshed and all manners of gore. He was such an interesting character, giving you more and more reason to pursue him as the story progressed. Yet the same can’t be said about your relationship with him. Or at least your “Tav’s” relationship with him. 

You’ve had some difficulty in deepening your relationship with the ex-magistrate. It seemed as if no matter what options you chose, no matter what manner of advances you made, he’d be quick to dismiss you. Painting you as a desperate little pup as he did. Denying you the opportunity of further knowing him. You’ve created and overwritten more save slots than you'd like to admit, perusing each one to select different lines of dialogue only to be rejected time and time again.

You thought it strange. But perhaps this was simply the way his route was meant to unfold. He was such an incredibly complex character after all. Perhaps this was meant to prove the party’s loyalty. 

But that didn’t stop you from being frustrated with other aspects of the gameplay. You've spent countless nights hunched on your work chair, back curving like a dead bug as you analyzed each and every possible outcome in combat. Eyes, bloodshot from cutting your sleeping hours short, just to endure the story until you were at an appropriate place to log out. And hair, flicking and curling out in different directions due to you weaving your hands through them in exasperation. 

You saw your reflection on your screen as it darkened to load the next scene and you couldn't help but stare at your character in slight envy. You know full well that however you designed them, it wouldn’t affect how the others perceived you, and yet you couldn’t help but pretty them up for your own interest. You designed it with yourself in mind, but making them far more attractive than you would ever be. Effortlessly beautiful as they stirred to wake up in the forest you settled in for camp.

How could Astarion ever turn this beautiful being away? If not for their heroism, then surely their looks would be enough to draw him in, no?

And speak of the devil. Once you could control your character again, you readied them to interact with your sharply dressed companion. Wanting to try your luck once more as the bright sun shone upon your character like a promise of a new day. Unfortunately, you’re greeted with a look of boredom, oh so familiar, that you sigh. “I hope you’re not here to beg—” Mocking him, echoing the words you’ve come to expect with faux mirth in your voice. But you cut yourself short when you realize he has yet to say anything. 

Strange.

 What’s even stranger is that he's just staring at you. Well,--- he’s staring at Tav. Your character.

“What the fuck…?” You move your mouse around, clicking to try and toggle the dialogue options to no avail, screen stuck in a cinematic close up of his face. Much like how the camera always pans when awaiting your response. 

However, unlike the common script of his actions that you’re used to, the one that you’ve memorized like a well practiced dance, his eyes smoothly glide off of your character and onto you. 

You freeze, but your heart doesn’t. The beating of your chest growing stronger the longer he looks at you. Eyes, blood red like rubies, boring into your own. He regards you, blinks, and then smiles that deviously charming smile of his before your screen turns dark. Your computer turns off, and you stare in shock of what just happened.

‘No fucking way, no fucking way, no fucking way—‘ You’re not delusional, right? Sure, you’re tired, but no fucking way did you just imagine one of the hottest characters you’ve seen in a while break the fourth wall just to fuck with you.

You laugh to yourself.

Yes, you’re just tired. Nothing like a good four hours of sleep can’t remedy. Although, as you get up from your chair, foolish as it may seem, you grab a used shirt from your floor, and hang it on your computer in the case that those piercing eyes come to life once again while you sleep.

——

You stir awake after your short slumber. Your body, heavy like lead, though not at all a feeling foreign to you. You think about what happened last night, wondering if it was all a dream. Yet as you get ready for the day, you notice your dirtied clothing still on your computer. Covering it as if it were a petrifying doll from a horror movie. You feel childish for doing so, reasoning that you were simply stressed from the events that taken place prior and removed the cloth.

As you did, your screen was brought back to life. Showing you the next night as if your little "tryst" with Astarion never happened. An entire thirty minutes or so of progress seemingly gone. Thankfully, you saved just before your game went haywire and you attempted to load up your last slot. 

Zzzt Zzzzt!

Alas, your game was not cooperating once again. You tried the save just before that and the same error screen presented itself to you. ‘Maybe this is a sign that I should just fucking work instead.’ Irritated at the thought, you moved to log out of the game but a familiar voice convinces you otherwise as the screen returns to normal. 

“Why, hello pup. How was your awfully short slumber?” 

‘Is this— a romance scene?!’ Astarion had never initiated an interaction before! Perhaps the game gods were granting you mercy. Or maybe, something you did last night might have given way for this line of dialogue to open up. Regardless, you happily took the opportunity and began reading your choices.

“Why, hello pup. How was your awfully short slumber?” ━─━────༺༻────━─━

Well. Thank you.

It’s none of your concern, fangs.

Better now that you’re here.

What happened last night?

━─━────༺༻────━─━

What…did happen last night? You don’t recall anything past the blackening of your screen, but it looks like you did something after that which caused this dialogue.

You don’t want to squander this opportunity, who knows when this will happen again, but your curiosity gets the best of you. So you save, and choose option 4. 

“Oh, you poor thing. Spooked you, did I?” He laughs, seemingly taking in the look of confusion that graces both yours and Tav’s face.

“What do you think happened last night?”

“My fucking game crashed.” You answer automatically.

Tav moves to open their mouth but is silenced with a tut. “Not you, spawn.” His eyes crinkle at the corners in amusement, but the way his mouth is pulled in a tightly-lipped smile offers you further insight otherwise. 

“I need your answer.” His eyes are on you yet again, and you feel the world begin to spin.

——

You stir awake after your short slumber. Your body, heavy like lead, though not at all a feeling foreign to you. You think about what happened last night, wondering if it was all a dream. Yet as you plan to get ready for the day, you notice you’re not exactly in a state to do so. You expected to wake at dawn, the dark and cool air to greet you as it fills your room and envelops your walls. Instead, you wake to see an endless amount of evergreen and the smell of the dark and damp grass beneath you filling your senses.

And if spending hours, weeks, months, of playing this damned game has taught you anything, you know that you now reside in the heart of the forest that you usually set up camp in. But this time, you're far from your bedroll and the fire that your party created.

One.

Two.

Three.

It takes you three seconds to comprehend what just happened. Three seconds for you to try and save the progress you’ve already made so far to no avail. Three seconds for you to feel the chill of dread run up your spine. 

And this chill so does love playing games.

You clamber away on your knees when you hear that deep chuckle of his emanate from right beside your ear. Creating as much distance to inspect this figure you’ve yet to face.

You see Astarion in all his vampiric glory. ‘Well, for a vampire spawn, I guess.’ You comment to yourself. Crimson eyes, darker than you imagined, with full, dark lashes contrasting his pallid skin and pure hair that glow under the moonlight. An unsettling, and cursedly attractive, smirk curls onto his lips. His ivory fangs on full display as he does.

“It seems as if those useless artifacts were worth something.” He marvels at his handiwork, his prize, and approaches it with confidence. 

“Well, your character certainly is more ‘prettied up.’” He circles you, carefully appraising his newest asset, and grins. “But you are far more intriguing.”

A simple, “What the fuck?” is all you can muster.

“Although, you are very cute. Cheeky little pup, aren’t you?” He jests.

A simple, “What the fuck?” is all you can muster which earns you a click of his tongue in response.

“You’re not broken, are you? Or am I to anticipate your little ‘what the fuck?’s as your only contribution?” Long, and incredibly masculine, fingers crawl and curl to grasp your chin like a spider. 

“I’ve waited months to have you. And now here you are, finally within my grasp.” The statement causes something to stir within you.

“What do you mean, ‘months?” 

He narrows his eyes, possibly trying to comprehend your stupidity.

“I’ve been watching you. Waiting, for the right moment. Interacting with this– caricature of yourself until you could deny yourself of me no more.” Blood rushes to your head. Your cheeks burning in embarrassment for seeming overly eager. And in panic as his intentions have yet to be cleared.

“And now that I’m here? Do you want to kill me?” You feel your heartbeat in your ears, awaiting his response. Your eyes wide in fear, yet trying to fake heroic bravado in the attempts to gain the upperhand.

And in this moment, he thinks you absolutely invigorating.

“Oh no, sweet pet. I’ve waited far too long for that. I’m going to make you mine.”

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

Should I make this into a series? "The adventures of a misplaced artist in Baldur's Gate!!" Or something like that. Let me know, lol

[zyhkoo]

☆ Birds of a feather

angst, jason x gn!reader, ‘doll’ being used

Jason can’t love you the way you do.

a/n: hi everyone! my friend help me with this one, give a round of applause to her! i shall do my requests soon, i’m just busy.

You loved Jason, the two of you have been glued to the hip for who knows when. You have been there since he was still Robin, and now as Red Hood. Your bond was unparalleled, a friendship strong enough to withstand any storm. The kind of connection one only dreams of finding.

Everyone who knew the two of you was acutely aware of your unshakeable bond. It was an almost tangible presence, as if the two of you were tethered together by an invisible force. You were rarely ever seen without the other, so much so that your names were often mentioned in the same breath.

Jason's emotional struggles with romance were a reality that you had come to accept. Despite the deep connection the two of you shared, he was plagued by an internal turmoil that made the prospect of a romantic relationship unattainable for him.

You, for your part, had come to understand and accept this aspect of his nature, recognizing that the bond between the two of you was not defined by romantic love, but by a deep, unwavering loyalty and friendship.

You longed for the comfort of knowing that Jason would always be by your side, even in the face of death itself. The thought of him staying with you until you were laid in the grave, dead and buried, and carried away in a casket, brought an intense sense of security and comfort. If Jason ever decided to leave, you knew that you wouldn't be far behind. It was always him for you, and there was nothing that could change that.

Jason, too, was acutely aware of your unwavering loyalty to him. Knowing that you would follow him to the ends of the earth, no matter what hardships or trials he faced. It was a knowledge that weighed heavily on him, knowing that your fate was intertwined with his own.

Your unshakeable devotion stirred within him a complex mix of emotions- pride in your loyalty, coupled with a pang of guilt. Pride because he knew you would always stick by his side, no matter the consequences.

Jason was acutely aware of how much your unrequited feelings for him were causing you pain. Despite his own internal struggles with romance, he recognized that your love for him was deep and unwavering. He knew how much it hurt you for him to not be able to return your romantic feelings, and he felt immense guilt for causing you such pain.

He often struggled with the knowledge that he could never give you what you desired the most from him, and this realization weighed heavily on his heart. It pained him to know that he could never fulfill the romantic hopes and dreams of the one person who meant the world to him.

The two of you were in a bookstore, surrounded by stacks of leather-bound volumes and the scent of aged paper. Jason was the one who introduced you to the world of books. He led you through the labyrinthine shelves, his fingers brushing against the spines of the books with a reverence that spoke of his deep connection to the written word. The two of you shared a comfortable silence, both finding solace in the pages that surrounded you.

You took several books on the shelves, placing them in the small shopping carts that they provided. “I got enough for the whole summer,” you said, turning to him. “What about you?” Jason shrugged and picked up a few books to add to the cart, “I’m not far behind.”

He picks up a book, it was about a loyal man who reunited with his dead wife. He stood there for a moment, holding the book in his hand and staring at the cover. This was a tale that typically ended on a happy note.

But his thoughts lingered on a different kind of ending, one that didn't necessarily have a happy ending. He thought about the two of you, your unwavering loyalty and how despite your devotion, there wasn't the same romantic element present. You noticed the melancholy expression that crossed his face, and you could sense that something was weighing heavily on his mind.

You approached him, and gently asked, "Is there something on your mind?”

He looked up at you, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment before he averted his gaze.

“It’s nothing, doll.” he responded, his voice trailing off as he absently flipped through the pages of the book in his hands.

You shrugged, not wanting to press him too much. You knew that Jason often preferred to keep his emotions and thoughts close to his chest, and trying to get him to open up could sometimes feel like pulling teeth. You busied yourself with the other books in the cart, trying to give him a moment to work through whatever was troubling him.

Eventually, the two of you arrived at his apartment, as he unlocked the door and ushered you inside, he felt a pang of unease in his chest. He needed to discuss something important with you.

“So, what are we doing? Movie night? Mario kart?” you said with a smile. Jason forced a smile in response, the tension in his chest tightening further. "Actually," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "I wanted to talk to you about something. Something important."

A pit formed in your stomach, talk about what exactly? You placed your books down on the coffee table and looked back at his gaze. “Yeah, what’s up?”

Jason took a deep breath before speaking again. "I've been having somethin’ lately, doll." he said, his voice quieter now. "About our friendship."

Your heart sank a little at his words, your mind immediately jumping to worst-case scenarios. He doesn't want to be friends anymore, you thought to yourself. He's pulling away, getting distant. Was he going to say what you were dreading to hear?

Jason noticed the look on your face and quickly spoke up again. "It's not anything bad," he hurried to reassure you. "I've been goin’ through some stuff. And I think we need to talk about where we stand." You relaxed slightly at his words, albeit a bit puzzled. You looked at him questioningly, silently encouraging him to continue.

"Our friendship is... important to me, doll." he sighed, meeting your gaze. "You're the most important person in my life. But I can't jus’ ignore fact that..." He paused, his sentence hanging in the air. Your mind raced with possibilities, trying to decipher what he was trying to say. You could feel the tension in the air, and your heart was pounding in your chest.

"I know how you feel about me," he said, "I know you want more."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. He knew. He had been aware this whole time, and he had said nothing. Your mind raced, a million thoughts and emotions swirling within you.

"I want to be honest with you," he continued, "And I don't want to hurt you. But I can't give you what you want. I can't give you that kind of love. It’s not something I can do."

Your heart ached at his words, the weight of them hitting you like a ton of bricks. You had hoped, deep down, that maybe he would reciprocate your feelings. But now, the reality was crushing your heart into pieces.

Jason's expression was one of guilt and remorse. "It hurts me too," he said, his voice tinged with sadness. "Seeing you wanting something from me that I can't give. It's like a constant knife in my chest, knowing that I can't make you happy the way you deserve." You held his hand “It’s okay,” you forced a smile “It’s okay if you don’t. My friendship with you, it's very important.”

Jason's grip on your hand tightened slightly. "You say that, but I know it's not true," he said, "I see the way you look at me doll, the way you longingly touch my hand or lean in closer. It's not just friendship for you, and deep down, we both know it."

Your heart clenched at his words. He was right, you couldn't deny it. But you didn't want to push him away or make him feel guilty for something he couldn't control. So, you just smiled again. "It's really okay," you repeated, trying to sound more convincing this time. "We'll... we'll make it work, right? Just us, as friends."

He knew that you were putting on a brave front for him, trying to downplay your own feelings in order to salvage the friendship. He wanted to say more, to try to explain the reasons behind his inability to reciprocate your feelings. But he knew that it would only make matters worse. So, he just squeezed your hand tighter, "Sure doll," he said softly. "Just us, as friends."

You softly chuckled “Doll,” you repeated “You never stopped calling me that.” Jason forced a smile, his heart aching at the familiarity of the nickname. It was one of the many reminders of your closeness, a testament to the deep bond you shared.

"Old habits die hard, I guess," he said. The irony of the nickname suddenly weighed heavily on him. Doll was a term of endearment, a term that typically invoked feelings of love. And yet here he was, the person who had never been able to feel those things for you, calling ypu ‘doll.’

"I probably should stop callin’ you that," he said quietly. "No," you said quickly, not wanting to cause more pain than either of you were already experiencing. "I like it. It's... comforting, coming from you."

"If you're sure," he said quietly. You smiled softly, trying to reassure him that it was genuinely alright. "Yeah, I'm sure," you said, your voice full of genuine affection. "It's our thing, right? Don't overthink it."

He wanted to believe that things could continue as they were between the two of you, that he could still hold onto the one person who meant more to him than anything else in the world. "Okay, doll," he said, his voice cracking slightly, "If that's what you want. We'll keep it our thing."

When you come back home, you quietly weep. You don't know what you’re crying for.

"I don’t think I could love him more..." you whispered to yourself between sobs. The depth of your feelings for him was overwhelming, but the fact that he didn't feel the same way left you feeling empty and defeated.

Your mind was swirling with conflicting thoughts. Part of you wanted to keep the relationship as it was, grateful for the intimacy and companionship you shared. Another part of you wrestled with the frustration and pain of a one-sided love. Each tear that fell felt like a small piece of your heart breaking, but you couldn't bring yourself to walk away. Despite the pain, Jason meant the world to you, and the thought of losing him was unbearable.

🦢 hello guys? did you cry? i didn’t haha, please like and reblog! discord server.

[ourrechte-blog]

Funny Take on Eldritch/Ancient

You've seen this, Danny is the Ancient of this or turns into Eldritch form for whatever reason. Now here's the humorous take

The Justice League were fighting a powerful foe, one that Flash knew as from the Infinite Realms, so he was already equipped to deal with them. Though this specific one was beyond what anything he had could handle. A blast of green energy suddenly erupted, causing the ghostly foe to growl in surprise and anger. Everyone turned to see a woman resembling Wonder Woman, her arms outstretched and wisps of steam wafting off her palms from the force of the blast she had unleashed.

"Who are you, interloper, to have powers like mine?" the ghostly foe snarled, its ragged form twisting with outrage at this unexpected interference.

"I'm one of you actually, though a bit stronger," the woman replied calmly, her voice carrying a weight of power that belied her human appearance.

"A human claiming to be from the Infinite Realms? Preposterous!" the ghost scoffed, its ethereal form rippling with disdain.

"What you see here is my saver mode, so I don't draw on too much power," the woman explained. A brilliant white ring suddenly manifested at her waist, dividing into two halves that spun in opposite directions. Her clothing shimmered and transformed into a sleek two-piece suit of black and white, while her raven hair turned a brilliant snow white and her eyes blazed with an otherworldly green glow. "This is my true state, Phantom, a Neverborn Ghost like you."

"Since you shared with me your name, I shall return the favor. I am Outcast Ebony," the ghostly foe declared, his ragged form twisting and rippling with ethereal energy as he narrowed his eyes, tensing in anticipation of whatever this so-called "Phantom" would do next.

Dani gathered more power, and her form began to shift and change. Where she had once appeared as a normal human, she now became stylized, her features taking on a sharper, more unsettling aspect. Her waist tapered inward into sharp points, rather than curving inwardly like a human's. Her legs, instead of tapering into rounded boots, ended in pointed tips, as did her elbows and knees. Her shoulders, elbows, and knees had become sharp angles rather than smooth curves. All in all, her appearance was unsettling to look at, even for the experienced members of the Justice League.

"This is what happens when a ghost ascends beyond what a ghost should be able to while fulfilling their purpose. My Eldritch Form," Dani explained, her voice carrying a weight of power that belied her otherworldly appearance. Outcast could sense the immense power of this Eldritch Form, but felt confident that as long as every threat was watched, he could match her in battle. It would be a close fight, no doubt, as Phantom's power was close to matching Outcast's own.

Dani took a deep breath, her form crackling with green lightning bolts. "And this… is… to go… even further beyond!" she cried, letting out a piercing scream that sent visible green sound waves rippling outward, striking Outcast who hastily erected a barrier to shield himself from this never-before-seen ghost ability.

Flash, his voice tinged with concern, called out, "Dani, no! We need you to conserve as much as you can!"

Despite not being directly hit, every member of the Justice League could feel the raw power behind Phantom's supercharged Canary Cry as she continued to scream, the sound waves rippling outward with devastating force.

Then, the scream changed, no longer emanating from her mouth but from her entire body. The very air began to ripple and crack, and fissures opened in the ground, followed by cracks in reality itself. Everything flickered, briefly showing a green sky filled with floating doors as Phantom maintained her earth-shattering scream.

Flash, feeling drained by the powerful display, pleaded, "Dani, stop!"

"Flash, explain, now!" Batman demanded, his voice cutting through the chaos.

Reality shifted again, the green sky and floating doors reappearing as everything from this strange dimensional rift was drawn into Phantom, and Earth's reality reasserted itself.

"That's Dani. She's the Speed Force, and that green stuff? Her home dimension. Or rather, our multiverse's version of it. And right now? I'm useless. She's taking all the Speed Force energy back into her," Flash explained, his voice heavy with fatigue and awe at the incredible power Dani had unleashed.

The sky was replaced by green and doors once again as Phantom's screams became exhausted and hoarse, but she maintained her rhythm, her face contorting with effort. Turning her head skyward, she allowed the green realm to feed into her one last time. Everyone had to cover their eyes as a blinding light engulfed the area. When the light faded, Phantom had changed again, her figure now returned to a more normal appearance. But this was no mere ghost or ascended form - this was the Speed Force itself, the primordial energy that granted super-speed abilities.

Dani's body had become a living embodiment of the phrase "darkest before dawn." The black parts of her form were pure shadow, blocking all manner of light, while the white parts encompassed the breaking dawn, a radiant glow emanating from her very being. She was Dawn, the Ancient of Light.

With a simple flick of her wrist, Dani reenergized Flash, the Speed Force returning to its rightful vessel. "Sorry about the wait," she said, her voice reverberating with ancient power.

Outcast felt a sense of trepidation wash over him at the sight of an ancient being of such immense power standing before him. He knew this battle had taken an unexpected and dangerous turn.

[brucewaynehater101]

I remember this one shot where tim & bruce swaps bodies while bruce is as batman in some jla meeting. Tim just continues it perfectly.

This is the body swap au, btw

Anyways, would Tim do a good job as Batman?. I think if Tim sees the swap as something brief he would do his best. (But we all make them swap long enough to Tim having enough time for long term plans) so if Tim gaslights himself into believing they would swap back after some weeks, he would do better. He thinks he can do better as a way to show he can be Batman without being a evil one(he's fighting the gun Batman allegations).

Still, it would be funny that in his "I'm gonna fix Bruce's life while am here plan".

Tim acts less as a classic moody batman while in the atalaya. Gives more and kind advice. He talks with Superman about his situation with Kon. He helps Flash with his eating schedule. He helps Arthur with whatever is going on in Atlantis. He shuts off all of the surveillance on Bruce's coworkers, just to mess with Bruce.

He just avoids Martian tho.

Then, it's been a month since the swap. They don't seem to find any way back. Tim cannot lie to himself anymore and the Batman duties are becoming way too much.

Then Bruce dies in Tim's body.

Tim never wanted to be Batman, neither to be like Bruce. But he messed Tim up. Tim never wanted to be like Bruce Wayne. And now he is living his nightmare, every day since Bruce death, Tim has to wake up and avoid his reflection. Tim never wanted to be like Bruce Wayne and now everyone call him the wrong name. Bruce died and Tim does what he does best, he sacrifices. He ditchs his identity any hope of being Tim Drake, so Batman can rise once again.

.

.

(The last paragraph is a little darker end of the version of this au where Bruce dies in Tim's body. I happily would read some of your ideas where none of them dies tho. There's just so many aspects os this au we can develop more, also we need more bruce pov of this).

Here is the post being referenced!

[I'm sorry to say that 90% of Bruce POV's are just gonna be him suffering.... I can try, though. Put up a valiant effort]

Let's really pack in that angst, shall we?

For this AU, Tim has been compared to Bruce so many fucking times.

At first, despite his shaky relationship with the grieving man, he took it as a compliment. He was like his hero Batman!

It started with Alfred fondly tutting over Tim's capacity to neglect self care duties and his shared interests. The older man would sarcastically ask Tim if he was following Bruce's footsteps of being a loner who sits in his basement all day (just teasing and joking and slight reprimanding).

Then there were the heroes that remarked on Robin's uncanny ability to do the batglare or translate Bruce's grunts.

When Steph and Tim got into arguments (and Tim was being a grade A asshole), Steph would compare Tim's emotional incapability and distrust with Batman's.

Dick, in the heat of the moment, has yelled at Tim to stop acting like Bruce (they got ice cream afterwards as an apology).

Jason has tsked and grumbled and shouted about Tim being molded into Bruce's shape/image.

Even Babs has made a comment or two.

While they didn't mean to hurt Tim (unless they were fighting [for which they would both usually make up and apologize]), it caused a small dig and insecurity to Tim's own self-image.

He wanted Bruce to be proud of him.

Tim wanted to be nothing like Bruce.

Then you add on the 16th birthday, Bruce's shit with Steph, how Bruce treats his other kids, other canon events, gun Batman, and Tim losing the rose-colored glasses of childhood?

Yeah. Tim doesn't want to be Bruce.

It seems fitting, after stealing Robin, that he'd get stuck under the name of the man he grew to see as a warning.

It figures that his choice in saving Batman lead to Tim's loss of self.

[Hmm... I can do another post chatting about Bruce or no one dying if you would like.... Or someone else dying before the truth comes out :)]

[justporo]

Hiiii! Could you write some dom astarion headcanons? I can't get the idea out of my head now.

You asked - I shall deliver. This turned into a one-shot though. So, I hope you'll enjoy that as well.

I... I'm not even wasting much more time talking about it, let's just get to the fun!

Tav insists on provoking Astarion, but the vampire just won't be having it.

Pairing: Astarion / Fem!Tav (You) Warning: Explicit sexual content Wordcount: 2,4k

Lessons Learnt

Astarion and you had come to an agreement some time ago.

The two of you were in a happy, committed relationship – being sweet, loving, romantic, caring about each other deeply. Everything you could dream of. And let’s not forget about the less innocent aspects of you being together: Astarion knew every trick in the book, easily figuring out how to push your every button – and he enjoyed it. Being the one to make you squirm, to make you moan, cry his name in heedless pleasure.

And you were committed to help him work through his trauma and letting him explore what exactly it was he wanted for his life, being with you – and figuring out how to reclaim himself in terms of physical pleasure. Because as he had confirmed to you, he was eager to finally and completely embrace his own desires and pleasures.

So, he had proposed to you to let him be in charge, giving him a kind of control he didn’t have for the last two centuries.

You had been a bit surprised as you hadn’t considered that this might be what he would want from his regained freedom, but it made sense: for all the growth and healing he had already done, he still liked having power – and there was nothing inherently wrong with that. He liked being dominant, being the centre of attention, being the one people couldn’t rip their gaze off, being the one making people scurry to fulfil his desires.

He was not a prey animal – he was the predator.

So, of course you had agreed – quickly realising how much this arrangement played into your own hand as well: no one had ever treated you like this or given you such intense attention. And you’d come to enjoy yourself just as much as the vampire did.

But it still didn’t help you from being bent down over the kitchen table. One of Astarion’s hands pressing both of your wrists to your back while the other had your hair tied around it like a rope and pulled to make your head arch back – in a manner, that was just the right amount of painful to induce more pleasure.

“I’ve had it with you today, you insolent little thing”, Astarion exclaimed angrily and pressed his hips into your behind. You were both fully clothed, but you could feel his massive erection rub against you while he pressed you down harder on the table, causing your boobs to squish against the hard wood and making you moan in desperation.

“Don’t act like you don’t know how you got put in this position, love”, Astarion whispered while he leaned over you now. He pulled your hair to make your head turn slightly sideways so he could easily reach one of your pointy ears and whisper in it. The posture giving you another jolt of delicious friction when his cock pressed harder against your butt clad in leather pants.

“You know exactly how you rile me up when you act like this! Arching your back to make me look at your sweet little tits straining against your shirt, putting your thumb in your mouth to lick something off it, making me wish it was one of my body parts you’d let your tongue work around. And finally, brushing past me while making sure your ass has ample opportunity to rub against my crotch”, he whispers into your ear as if it was merely a sweet nothing. His breath caressing your face and making your hairs stand on end… And the way he put it into words – you were already drenched and desperate for release.

But so was he – you could feel the evidence quite clearly.

But you couldn’t help but giggle despite your dire situation, raising an eyebrow at him, grinning and using what little room for movement you had to rub your butt against him once more, making him groan immediately.

Your triumph was only short-lived when you suddenly got hauled up from the table. “That’s it, you bratty little girl, now I’m going to make you pay”, Astarion hissed as he threw you over his shoulder and immediately made his way up to the bedroom. His grip on your legs was tight – not a allowing a smidge of resistance now. You gulped and hoped that you hadn’t pushed your luck too far.

“We are going to have a little talk now, my sweet, about your naughty behaviour. And if I’m nice I might even help you out of the mess you put yourself in”, the vampire declared through gritted teeth and quickly moved up the last steps to your joint bedroom.

He threw open the door, then put you down in the middle of the room. “Undress”, he simply hissed at you while he turned around again. You obliged, your heart racing in your chest and lust pulsating between your legs.

Astarion grabbed a single chair, put it down in the middle of the room and then sat on it, legs spread, leaned forward, one of his hands braced on his knee while the other arm hung languidly over his other thigh. And that’s how he kept watching you slowly undress, not saying a word, but his red eyes boring holes into you.

You didn’t dare to make a show out of it this time.

Astarion licked his lips while he watched you hungrily, his arousal still very much obvious. When you were done you stood there completely naked with the vampire intensely staring at your naked form – just his glances making you want to squirm. But he drew out the moment – unnecessarily long for your liking.

“Now, come here and sit, pet”, he finally said, releasing you from your limbo. You walked over to him while he didn’t change anything about his posture, still staring at you and devouring you with his ruby eyes. When you were directly in front of him, you weren’t entirely sure of where exactly you were meant to sit.

But Astarion made quick work of grabbing you by the thighs and firmly placing you on one of his knees and dragging you up along his thigh – making sure to tense his muscles so you would get even more friction while grinding against his thigh. You immediately moaned loudly and threw your head back at the sensation of your core rubbing against his body. You could feel his muscles, the texture of his leather pants, your own slickness turning it into a mess quickly. Your hands had immediately went on his shoulders in an attempt to steady yourself on him. And you could also feel his tension there, under your fingers. By no means were you alone in these feelings of desperate, carnal lust.

Astarion’s fingers firmly held on to your hips – so hard there were clear indents where he almost clawed at your skin to hold you down tightly.

“Don’t act coy now, Tav, go on – I’m giving you all the opportunity to writhe and rub yourself against me now”, Astarion said to you, his eyes still glowing angrily – but hunger and pleasure taking over more and more. The usage of your name suddenly turning you on more in this moment than any other pet name could have done.

You stared at him a moment longer, not exactly sure how the situation had derailed to him making you ride his thigh completely naked so quickly.

“Move!”, he snarled when you didn’t get to work. The word snapping of his tongue like a whiplash while he forcefully moved your hips to grind against his leg again, making you whimper.

You started slowly – sliding back and forth over his thigh while feeling how slippery his pant leg had gotten quickly. Your hands curled into the vampire’s shoulder muscles, earning you a single groan. But other than that, he simply kept holding onto you, enjoying the show.

“Harder!”, Astarion ordered harshly after some time and pressed you down harder with the firm grip of his hands on your hips. You gulped and obliged.

Really getting into it now: the feeling of friction and just the thought of what exactly was happening turning you feral while you gripped onto his shoulders. The vampire lifted one of his hands off your side and grabbed your chin, thumb stroking over your bottom lip. “Open up, love”, he cooed at you now to which you happily obliged. He put his thumb into your mouth and let you start to suck on it.

You really started to lose all shame as you kept grinding his leg, now moaning loudly with every move, your head rolling back and arching your back – desperately wishing for Astarion to also give some attention to your breasts that ached with arousal.

But that was exactly the wrong thing to do. His hand moved to your side again and Astarion’s grip on your hips tightened so much you weren’t able to get in even the slightest bit of movement.

“It’s not fun now, is it?”, the vampire angrily snarled at you while holding you immobile. You whimpered helplessly, overcome with lust and the desperate wish for release.

“I’m sorry”, you whispered breathlessly – your body helplessly shivering with unresolved tension.

“Promise you’ll be good and I might consider letting you have the release your craving”, Astarion whispered slowly, his eyes boring into you.

“I’ll be good, I promise”, you immediately answered, desperately wanting to please him so he might do the same for you.

“Good“, Astarion cooed and started to grin hungrily at you – in a way that made you immediately wonder if it was actually.

He lifted you up while he stood up from his seat. He walked over to your giant bed and almost threw you onto it.

As you moved to position yourself on the bed, you saw how the vampire undressed himself while looking at you. Pulling his shirt over his head, muscles tensing and softening with the movement. You hungrily licked your lips, immediately feeling the fire burning inside you again. You let your gaze wander deeper, seeing the outline of his arousal straining against his pants – and of course the slick patch you had left on his pant leg.

When he pulled his pants down and finally freed his hardness you audibly gasped – wanting him inside of you in a way that was nothing but carnal need. You’d never get used to knowing that you were the one making him this way.

Astarion prowled over to the bed, basking in your wordless admiration and eagerly staring back at your naked body – the swell of your tits and your hardened nipples, the tensed lines on your stomach, the sheen of wetness glistening between your legs.

He climbed on top of you, immediately immobilising you with his body weight. Your legs happily spread to welcome him and wrapped around his slender hips. His cock quickly found its way to your slick core and languidly created friction against it.

You moaned, your mouth falling open at the thought of how you’d finally get what you wanted.

Astarion licked his lips and grinned which bared his fangs to you. He slowly kept rolling his hips to let his hardness slide against your cunt. You let your hands start to wander over his shoulders and back.

“I know you just made a promise to me, my heart, of which I’m sure you’re eager to keep. But let’s make sure, why don’t we”, he purred and grabbed your one hand, then the other with his while using his other arm to hold himself up over you.

And with a swift movement he was holding both your wrists captive again and pushed them down on the mattress right over your head. His grip was strong, but you didn’t even want to rebel against him right now. You were mindlessly enjoying yourself being held captive by this vampire, once again realising and being grateful that he showed you time and time again how he not only embraced his own desires and pleasures, but also teaching you to embrace yours.

“I’ll be nice now and release you from your peril, my love, since I am such a gracious lover”, he promised you while looking at you through his lashes. He shifted his hips and with one swift movement filled you to the brim.

You couldn’t help yourself and cried out his name. He threw his head back and laughed seductively. “Hm yes, keep calling my name, love, make sure the whole Upper City knows who it is that makes you scream”, he whispered and started to fuck you.

The time for teasing and making each other wait was over now. He thrust into you while holding you captive, hitting deep inside of you. You writhed against him, desperately trying to get more friction while his movements grew more and more raggedly. So did his breaths as he kept staring at you losing yourself beneath him.

“Come for me, Tav”, he ordered breathlessly, and you didn’t need another word of encouragement. Just the sound of your name from his lips while his voice almost broke pushed you over the edge, your core clenching and pulsing around him hard – again and again.

You screamed his name once more while shaking with your orgasm and struggling against his hold while he followed closely behind, hoarsely groaning and still moving through your joint ecstasy.

When the fire had dwindled down to a pleasant glow and you were both just looking at each other with wide eyes and open mouths while breathing heavily, Astarion slid out of you and released you out of his grasp.

He rolled on his back and softly grabbed you to make you roll over too, so you were laying on his chest. The vampire immediately started rubbing circles on your back with one hand, while the other stroked your hair. “All good?”, he asked while cocking his head. You nodded and smiled at him in response but were just too exhausted to use your words. You wrapped your arms around him and tangled your legs with his to really snuggle up to him. Pleasant warmth filled the both of you while you kept just laying there.

“Now, have you learnt your lesson?”, Astarion asked after a while, just a tiny bit teasingly. “Hmm”, you replied “maybe I will need a refresher on that from time to time.”

Astarion laughed at that and embraced you even harder: “It would be my pleasure.”

Author's note: Hope you enjoyed, all you naughty little gremlins. Now, off I go, I have to do some very Astarion-unrelated stuff.

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

hiiii, can you tell us more about fletcher… ??

"Silver Baron"

Hi! 👀 Let's talk more about Fletcher shall we?

General

He's born in Newcastle, December 25th of 1929 (Yes on Christmas)

Born during the Great Depression to a working class father and mother, Fletcher was raised in a family of deadbeat father and an emotionally broken mother. He's the first child of 6 siblings.

Fletcher is an MI6 officer in counter-proliferation division and intelligence gathering. He specializes in the "detect, investigate, prevent, and deter" aspects of MI6.

His skills of predicting the global state of affairs are one of the most precise, almost clairvoyant-like.

Fletcher has striking silver eyes. He's also often seen wearing grey wardrobes. Part of the reason why he's called Silver Baron.

He doesn't have any military background. But as an MI6 officer, Fletcher's been the MI6's eyes and ears for many, MANY battles that involve the British Army.

Trivia

Fletcher is highly educated, graduating with Law, Psychology, International Relations, and Criminology majors.

Fletcher spends most of his free time doing crosswords in newspapers. He'd sent his answers to the newspaper publisher every end of the week. His name often comes up in the weekly crosswords winners.

He likes books written by Agatha Christie and Conan Doyle.

His favourite historical figure is Cyrus the Great.

Fletcher's favorite food is Haggis.

That's it for now! I'll make his profile when I have more time. You can see his involvement in Jade's story in this post!

Thank you for asking!

[iris-qt]

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐

☾ ʀᴇɢᴜʟᴜꜱ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

☾ ʙɢ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ: ᴄʟɪᴄᴋ!

☾ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ | 2ᴋ

☾ ᴀ/ɴ: ʜᴇʀᴇ'ꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴜʏꜱ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴏʟʟ (ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ᴛᴇʟʟ, ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴘᴏʟʟꜱ).

☾ ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ʀᴇɢᴜʟᴜꜱ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀ ᴄʜᴏɪᴄᴇ. ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ᴄʜᴏꜱᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴇɴɢᴀɢᴇ ɪɴ ɪᴛ. ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ, ʀᴇɢᴜʟᴜꜱ ᴍᴇᴇᴛꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴇᴀʀɴꜱ ᴀ ʙɪᴛ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʀᴛ ᴏꜰ ꜰᴀʟʟɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.

Silly, foolish love.

Regulus seemed to be surrounded by the atrocious thing as love was in bloom at Hogwarts. Valentine’s Day was slowly approaching as February rolled in, blanketing the castle in fresh snow and an air of romantic anticipation.

And Regulus hated it.

He stalked up the endless stairs with his lanky legs to reach the rotted wooden trapdoor that led to the stuffy Divination room. If only the crystal ball would tell him how to drop out of this useless class mid-year. Walking in for the 2nd semester of the year, he saw the little magical name tags Professor Trelawney had enchanted were scrambled.

New seats.

Just fucking wonderful.

He’d gotten used to sitting next to some short, sniveling boy with bad acne and thick glasses. Such a simple, mutual understanding of silence between them. 

Regulus made his way to his new table at the back of the class. At least he could think clearly as he wasn’t seated right next to Trewlany’s five sticks of incense. Leaning over, messy black curls falling over his tired eyes, he peeks at the name on the tag next to him…Y/N. 

The new girl.

He’d never spoken to her but she didn’t seem particularly irritating, so perhaps this would be fine. 

You walk in, one of the last students, and as you take a seat, Regulus notes you smell like the fresh pines of the Forbidden Forest. Not to mention you had a pine leaf stuck in your sweater. His keen detective work led him to the conclusion that there was more to you than he had originally thought. Rather than a wallflower, you were hiding something in those focused eyes.

Those focused eyes that were now trained on him, lighting up as you gave him a little wave.

Regulus nodded in acknowledgment and turned away, letting you know he wasn’t one for small talk in case you hoped to engage in it.

The planets must’ve not been aligned in Regulus’s favor as the topic of today’s class was palm reading; particularly the line that represented love and future relationships. All in the spirit of Valentine’s Day, as Trelawny put it.

She chose the wrong holiday to become festive about.

The thing is, Regulus didn’t believe in love. He believed love was a choice. A choice he tended to avoid. He had made the decision to not get involved at all. Relationships only bring drama and heartbreak and he wanted none of it. None. Of. It. 

Also, his awkwardness welcomed zero aspects of any love, so perhaps he was slightly salty about that.

When the palm reading commenced, you turned to him, flipping your textbook to the correct page.

“It looks like the heart line is right above the head line.”

He raises an eyebrow. “But where’s the head line?”

You smile as you gently take his hand in yours and trace your finger over his heart line on his pale palm. Maybe it was a sensory issue, because his heart stopped and then started racing one thousand beats a second. It was probably just because of nerve endings leading to his heart, right? Basic human anatomy.

“Hm…I’m picking up a vibe…seems like your life shall be…” you look at Regulus, eyes wide for dramatic flare “...full of smiles and hugs! Merlin! Whatever shall you do?”

Regulus can’t help but crack a smile as he attempts to hide it with a disappointed head shake. 

“And here I thought you’d take this seriously.”

“I am dead serious, Black,” you drain your face of emotions as you stare blankly at him.

He can’t help but let out a stifled laugh as his heart picks up again. This cannot be good. He must be sick. Flu season, right?

Regulus recovered from his supposed illness by the next morning as he woke up early; washing himself with ice cold water to maintain his control and balance throughout the day. The air outside was crisp and the unrelenting chill of winter was chasing the occasional snowflakes that decided to fall. 

Perfect weather for a rejuvenating morning walk.

Truthfully, he hoped the cold would numb his spontaneous thoughts of Y/N. One little interaction and he was already spiraling.

No matter.

Everything was under control.

Until he saw you, bundled up in an endless number of layers, sitting by the lake with a little tray of watercolors, your hair gently blowing in the breeze. He just knew your nose would be a rosy shade and it’s as if his heart began an override autopilot of his body, moving his legs toward you. Of course, he was just curious as to why you were painting out in this bleak weather. Of course, it was plain curiosity. Nothing more. 

His quiet steps were given away by the frosty ground, and you looked up as he approached, his ink black hair decorated with various snowflakes, blowing around his face..

“Morning Regulus, here for another palm reading?” you grin seeing him roll his eyes. He hesitates as he doesn’t know whether he should ask before he sits down next to you. You gently pat the frosted grass next to you and he quietly takes a seat; knees to his chest.

“I don’t know if a thin black robe is the best attire for this weather, Black.”

“Hm..I suppose next time I’ll bring 20 sweaters like you,” he hums, giving you a small, lopsided smile. You scoff teasingly as you unwrap your large wool scarf from your neck, putting it around his shivering form. He looks at you with a shimmering yet unreadable emotion, before he pulls his gaze from your rosy, frigid nose to the small, pocket sized canvas you’re holding.

Your art was simplistic, yet heavenly. The soft pastel shades of the water colors blended together in perfect harmony, capturing the ethereal atmosphere of this cold, February morning. The lake shimmered with an azure shade which escaped into the baby blue tint of the cloudy sky.

You caught him staring and dug into your messenger bag, pulling out another tiny canvas and a spare brush.

“Paint with me”

He blinked at you, your gentle and inviting manner a foreign language to him. He always welcomed loneliness, but in your presence, he didn’t think being alone would ever feel the same. He’d always be yearning for someone. A specific someone. 

Merlin, he was in deep.

They sat there in a comfortable silence; the only sounds consisted of the lake lapping onto the shore and whispers of the winter winds. Regulus could get used to this. He began painting the scene, hoping to impress you with his professional art; a product of his years of art lessons with the best of the best. But he would never capture the moment like you did. Perhaps it was the lack of artistic “rules” with which you painted that made it so perfect. Perhaps it was the fact that it was you who painted it that made it so perfect. 

For perfection makes perfection.

So imagine his happiness when you gifted him your little canvas after the morning paint session. Regulus was truly at a loss for words but managed to pipe out a weak “thank you” as he gently held the little canvas as if it were a fragile artifact. He gave himself a mental reminder to learn various protective charms to perform on the small painting. Perhaps buy an impenetrable golden chamber for it? No. Platinum.

Valentine’s Day commenced with a flurry of sappy couples and atrocious public displays of affection. Regulus would’ve stayed holed up in his dorm, but how could he miss a trip to Hogsmeade? He needed to stock up on swan feather quills and dark chocolate frogs.

Yes, of course, Regulus had thought about you and perhaps conveying his feelings on this day reserved for love, but he’d rather not ruin the one beautiful thing in his life. Ever since that one early morning, you and him had been painting basically everyday. Those painting sessions are what made Regulus excited to wake up in the morning. But he wasn’t sure if you harbored the same feelings. 

Truthfully, if love was a choice, Regulus wouldn’t choose to love you. It was beautiful, yes. But it was heart wrenching; his stomach constantly felt like a twisting storm while your eyes sang a siren song that would soon bring him to his demise against the sharp rocks of love. 

That is why he pondered just releasing his emotions and letting you know his affections towards you. But Regulus was nothing if not afraid. 

Afraid of losing you.

Stupid love.

As he made his way into Hogsmeade, he noticed you strolling around with your best friend, laughing. You made eye contact with him as you gave him a little wave and a small smile. He briskly looked away as if you could read his conflicting thoughts about you behind his eyes and walked off.

Strange.. You thought.

After running his errands, Regulus decided to head back. Per usual, Valentine’s Day was a flop. They didn’t even have dark chocolate frogs in stock. Regulus sighed as he began walking back. He immediately paused in his steps as he noticed you at a pop-up flower stand, making a bouquet of white flowers. Ranunculus? Yes, it was a bouquet of Ranunculus. He had studied flower language as part of his private tutoring growing up. They represented charm and attraction. 

Charm and attraction?

Who were you charmed and attracted by? Because it certainly wasn’t him. 

Regulus scoffs to himself as he walks off, attempting to push away the gnawing feeling in his stomach. 

Until he hears your sparkling voice calling his name.

You run up to him across the frozen ground, a bouquet of Ranunculus in your hand. Quite unfortunately, the icy ground causes you to slip, and as you fall, Regulus catches you, your face pressed against his chest which is adorned with your scarf. His heart was racing so fast you were concerned he could be having a heart attack. You steady yourself, straightening your beanie, an embarrassed look on your face which immediately turns to a crestfallen expression as you notice the now crushed flowers. 

“Fuck…”

You felt like crying.

Your sadness was contagious as Regulus couldn’t bear to see his beautiful girl upset over anything. He quickly muttered a spell which brought the flowers back to life. Yes, he just  encouraged Y/N’s romantic pursuits towards another person by doing so, but if that’s what made you happy, he’d give it to you. 

Your face broke into a smile as you glanced to the side, a bit shaken at this bump in the road. 

“Thanks for saving my face from destruction, Reggie.”

“We wouldn’t want that, would we?” He smiled, always enjoying their exchanges. 

With all the insecure thoughts buzzing in your head, you decided to kill them off once and for all, and pushed the bouquet of flowers towards Regulus, unable to make eye contact with his calculating eyes. You didn’t want to see them calculate just how much of an idiot your infatuation with him made you.

“For you.”

Regulus blinked, unable to comprehend what was going on. Maybe she hit her head against his bony chest a bit too hard. He stood there gaping, as still as a rock.

You took that as a sign he wasn’t interested, and, with an internal sigh, turned the other way, looking skyward to chase the tears away. Flowers hanging limp in your hand, you were about to walk away, when you felt Regulus’s soft grip on your wrist as he coaxed you back to him.

Regulus was beaming in a way that was slightly unsettling and heart warming at the same time. There was something about seeing one’s true grin for the first time. And it was purely contagious as you grinned back at him like a lovesick fool.

Silly, foolish love.

[sashi-ya]

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟑 DAY 18: CUMDUMP Kuchiki Byakuya 𝘹 𝘍! 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Requested by: anon ➡ day 18 cumdump with byakuya or shunsui? 👀 just being used as their personal stress relief toy 😩💚 tw: mdni. stablished relationship. pretty cute and romantic. stress relief. cumdump duh. oral (I am convinced Byakuya has one of the best oral skills in all seireitei) wc: 1.2K 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“I won’t let a man use my body for free, nor be his cumdump for that matter” that’s what you always said until you met him.

Is not easy to be a captain from the Gotei 13, nor a noble where every responsibility relays on your back. He has to be serious all the time, or at least that was what they made him to believe. He has to fulfil the duties of the Kuchiki clan head skilfully and honourably, and some days there are people who won’t cooperate with him to do so.

During those days, in which stress is too high and he can barely stand not using Senbonzakura to slide some heads off, he comes back home with a single idea in mind: fuck her, as much as he pleases. And fill her up so much she can barely walk without messing the floor with his own seed.

“(Name), I’m home” he announces, taking his kenseikan off. That can only mean one thing; since wearing it represents the noble and taciturn aspect of himself, the moment the Kuchiki take them out they are allowed to be free…

Really free…

You run to him, happily knowing he is home. “Byakuya-sama you are ho….-“ you chime, stopping on your feet, watching his silky hair fall freely over his shoulders with no silver garnishment holding it up.

Byakuya smirks, a little slight curve that garnishes the right corner of his lips. You know this man has enough energy to last all night, and exactly the inverse amount of patience.

You widen your eyes, and blink quickly after. Mentally preparing yourself from what’s about to come, you begin to run through the hall of the Kuchiki manor.

“Hell no, come here” he murmurs, running after you. He could use flash step, but he won’t. Byakuya has slowly learned to have fun, to smile and play whenever he is alone with you. Because you have become his safe place, no matter what.

“No, oh lord no!” you cry, laughing as he finally catches you by your waist. “My guts! Have mercy on me, Kuchiki-sama!” you joke, while he moves your hair aside to bite -with anything but delicacy- your neck.

Byakuya pushes you to the bed; the big mattress in which both sleep every night. He is a man of few words, but those aren’t needed… you can read his eyes better than anyone else.

He leaves Senbonzakura over the bedside table, and then proceeds to take his haori off. He might be horny and hard, but his Zanpakuto and Captain distinctive deserves utmost respect anytime.  

Once the two of his most important belongings are safely resting aside, Byakuya loosens up the white himo to take the black kosode off and then the white shitagi. All of that ends up on the floor, he has so many pairs he doesn’t care.

His beautiful pure white skin shines before your eyes, the prominent collar bones you love, the tight skin of his stomach, the toned arms, everything, absolutely everything from him.

“Byakuya-sama…” you purr, even if you wish you didn’t speak you can’t help it.

“Mh??” he asks, while softly slapping your knees to spread your legs. You are -conveniently- wearing the fine silk nightgown he bought you with an equally fine lingerie underneath.

He comes in between your legs, extending his hands to you. You are the only one allowed to take his mitt gloves off. And you do, with utmost care, leaving them right next to you like sacred pieces of him.

“Very well, now let’s take this off… shall we?” he utters, as his mandible muscles tenses and his fingers skillfully peel the thong off your body.

With the lace strap still hanging from one of your ankles, he lifts your legs up. He couldn’t wait when he saw your juicy temptation. A fruit he is willing to try and delightfully eat out.

Your shins rest on his shoulders, his right hand on the small of your back to push you even high. His mouth reaches your core so perfectly, tasting the first drops of his favourite elixir.

You contort as the tip of Byakuya’s tongue reaches for your entrance. He devours you, drinking every little hint of femininity melting off you.

With a delicate hand, he presses down your lower belly, making your muscles to spasm harder and the pleasure higher.

Your nails carve marks on the silk sheets, gripping tightly to them with your head thrown back and an expression of pure bliss in your face. The sweet little whimpers abandoning your lips, motivate your long-haired lover to keep going, until he can easily break you in a thousand parts.

“You are so, always, absolutely… delicious…” Byakuya grunts, with his lips still muffled by your anatomy. Your eyes fix on his deep cerulean ones, and there is no need to tell him how much you want him inside you right now…

He immediately puts you down, dominantly, fast, desperately. His hakama feels tight around his crotch, he is about to burst, and it is almost painful to keep on waiting.

You hang there for him to finally untie the front and back himo. And as he does, the black fabrics fall to reveal his erection.

Hungry, like a beast, he is preparing to attack. That delicate, serious noble façade is left aside the moment his hair falls freely and there is no one else but you looking at him.

His nudity, a work of art that is meant to be praised, tops you. There aren’t many words that can express what you feel inside your own inner world. How every skyscraper crumble and turn to dust, how the walls built around fall to let him take over… for his soul to bound and extent it to vast fields of sakura flowers.

Byakuya pants in desire before impaling you with hard delight, his back goes up and down, his sharp sight disarms you, his pale lips slightly separate, and his straight hair frame his angelical face.

You receive him deep inside, pushing even further and curling your back. A mute moan escapes your mouth as you lose the power to speak and the ability to breathe. Nails that were grasping on the sheets are now being carved on his back, and your muffled pants are being inhaled by Byakuya’s mouth.

He has no mercy, just as when he fights, with his hips’ thrusts. It makes the muscles of your inner thighs to spasm, to tremble.

And soon, in between kisses and the sound of wet slaps of your skins, climax reaches for you and him. Like a hurricane, like a summer storm… impetuous, strong and unstoppable.

You bite his lower lip, pulling and smirking as you whine, expecting your womb to be filled by his sweet warm milk.

Byakuya sighs louder and smiles while looking you right in the eye. “Are you ready my sweet beautiful cum dump?” he growls.

“Y-yes… fill me so up to the brim, Byakuya-sama~” “As you wish…”

You aren’t sure if it’s on the genes or it is because he is strong, but that night, there were more than three times in which he was able to release mostly all his stress. And oh, love… you felt like bursting happy to be the official cum dump wife of the Kuchiki clan head ~

taglist: @miabiaria @carmenthedreamer @stygianoir @electronicwitchcollection @aizenwifey @deputy-videogamer @efrodd17 @mizugami @uzxotic @cyberdazetragedy @bookandyarndragon @fushiguroshotwife 💖

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Yandere! CEO! Arranged! Ex-husand x AFAB! Ex-wife! Reader

Hold your horses, we're going to wattpad territory here.

I went back to reading the cliche runaway wife or stranger with them being pregnant from their one night stand with a CEO and I must say, it's making me really nostalgic.

As a small gift for myself, I'm using the name of my CEO protagonist on the novel I wrote, and his background... Actually, the whole story for this one will be just my novel's. Self plagiarism, if you will lol. There are quite the big alterations, but that's for me to know, and for you to skim over.

So, let's unlock a hidden memory especially for previous wattpad girlies, shall we?

Pause though, this is my 3rd pregnancy fic. I hate myself.

Yandere! CEO name: Iñigo Dragonov

"Father, I seriously do not need your input in my marriage!"

"You will marry the Smith's daughter and that's final!"

"But why?! I'm content with living by myself and flourishing the company! I do not need a wife!"

"How about a husband then?"

"No wives, no husbands, no spouses!"

Allastor frowned. He knew that his son is not one for romance, but he dated a handful of people, also slept around sometimes. But for the sake of his son, who is workaholic to the point he's forgetting about his health, he needs someone who would be there for him.

"Son, if you don't marry the Smith's daughter, i'm afraid I have to get back the company."

Iñigo clenched his teeth. His jaw ticking as he looked at his father with wide, feral eyes.

"You won't do that. You already gave the company to me!"

"Yes, but I will take the company back. And you know I can pull strings like no other."

That's how Iñigo married you, the Smith's daughter.

Dragonov group of Companies. Just the name itself sent shivers down the spines of aspiring and even well off businesses. They're ruthless, and dominated almost every possible market. Textile, food industry, hotels, even schools. Name it, and they'll have it.

So, with the Smith Corp being the leading company in the Fashion industry, and the Dragonov looking to integrate themselves in Fashion and not just textile, Allastor decided to have this arrangement. It's like killing two birds with one stone.

Inigo Dragonov. The perfect man and the perfect bachelor. Rich, handsome, reliable, he's someone who's a bonafide genius when it comes to business. Almost his every investment have such huge profits, and never a lost.

So why was he so adamant about marrying when it's a good strategy in order to get into fashion?

He has always thought of marriage as something so restraining. Something that weighs such a workaholic like him down. He never even thought of marrying unless his father and mother mentions it.

So when his eyes laid on you, he sneered in his heart.

He doesn't want you at all.

He's always finding faults in you.

"Why do you look so frumpy? I thought your company focuses on fashion?"

"Stand up straight. Your slouching is unsightly."

"Will you get out of my sight? Don't you have any work to do? Don't be lazy."

His words never, ever dripped of affection, only vile words of nitpicking came out.

You were tired of it. Sick and tired.

Yet you did your best to always serve your husband in all aspects. Affection, taking care of him, even intimacy. After all, he's still the one to put food on your plate. Not just any food also, but luxurious ones.

But the empty feeling on your heart persisted. You don't want this at all.

So with a heavy heart, you decided to divorce him.

As you predicted, he didn't care. He signed it, and you left the chateau.

But as Iñigo relished in the fact that he's now a single man once more and can focus on his work, you knew something he didn't.

You touched your womb.

"I'm going to take care of you myself, baby." You whispered to the unborn child on your stomach.

Iñigo clocked out of his office and sighed, feeling the tiredness cloak his body.

He felt empty. Really empty.

At first, he felt such a deep satisfaction that he can finish the job easier without you around.

Every time he comes home, nobody will pester him to eat, to take care of himself.

Nobody nosey to ask him about his day, nobody to annoy him by kissing him on the cheek...

Something invisible gripped his heart as he groaned and took off his suit jacket.

"Tedious."

He slowly walked towards the dining room and sat down at the head of the table. He started eating his dinner, feeling the emptiness reside the giant mansion.

Was his chateau always this big?

He looked over to the seat to his left where you usually sat down.

He can see the faint image of you in his memories, talking about your day and job, that he painfully ignored.

He remembered how your lips would always twitch as it fought back a frown from his lack of response.

He would watch you go silent and finish your meal quickly, before waiting for him to finish so that you could bring the plates back to the kitchen.

He would remember your tired sighs and fervent glances at him.

He went upstairs, wanting to take a shower.

The room you shared with him was now devoid of your personal touch, just leaving with a dark and modern aesthetic that looked like it was from a display in a furniture shop. It was professional, too professional.

He looked over where your vanity was once was. Now there's just an armchair and a lamp that he never really used.

He got to the bathroom and what was once filled with your bathroom essentials. Now, it was just his shampoo, conditioner, toothbrush and paste, and other basic needs tucked away.

And as he went under the shower, tears started to leak from his eyes, regret gnawing at his heart.

He never realized how much he loved you.

He never realized that the reason why he was so critical of you was that he was trying to distance himself from you.

He never realized that your presence was a constant peace in his fast paced life, and that you were a part of his routine.

And now that you're gone...

He gripped his wrist, a bruise forming.

And that was his daily routine a year after your divorce.

And now, two years later, he was still the same.

On the outside, he looked fine and dandy, but deep inside, he's only a broken husk of a man that he never dared to repair.

He thinks he deserved this as punishment.

But then, in those years, he felt that he needed you to come back.

Yes, he's punishing himself, but he needed you still.

He misses your touch,

Your warmth,

Your care.

Your... Love?

Did you love him?

Or is it out of responsibly?

Bah, he doesn't care.

He loves you, and that was enough.

A knock came from the door and his CFO, and his best friend, Oliver, got inside.

"Here you have it. This week's report of activities of Miss Smith--"

"Mrs. Dragonov."

Oliver sighed.

"yes, Mrs. Dragonov, this is the week's report of Mrs. Dragonov."

Iñigo nodded in satisfaction and waved Oliver goodbye.

He opened the enveloped and his eyes widened. You were back from New Zealand. This was great news! He could talk to you. Maybe coax you into coming back.

Iñigo grabbed his key and opened a door at the back of his office and smiled at the inside. Inside was a perfect replica of your old office when you were still married to him. The only difference is that wall to wall was plastered of your face, taken by his private investigators. On the vanity, which was once in his room, have a picture of you, and your twins with him.

He smirked lazily, sitting down on the chair as he kissed your face on the picture frame.

His stormy dark eyes were bent a bit, his gaze filled with so much longing and regret.

"I'll take back what's mine." He whispered.

"and I'll do everything and use everything at my disposal to get you back." Iñigo declared, looking at his children.

"And I mean everything."

"We need to do this."

"Tsk. Why would I? I'm perfectly capable of myself."

"We both can't deny the fact that they need me. You need me."

".... Okay."

" But in one condition."

"What is it?"

"You need to marry me."

You blinked, not getting this absurd situation at all. Marriage again? But why?

Seeing your confused face, Iñigo grabbed your hand gently and squeezed them.

"Sweetheart, you don't want our children to grow up ridiculed, right? What would the people say if they saw our children with no father?" Iñigo started to whisper, coaxing you into seeing his perspective. "I am willing to provide the support you need."

You shook your head.

"But I can provide that myself. I am rich also, so that support means nothing."

Iñigo gritted his teeth and held you tightly once more.

"What will an incomplete family do to our children? Won't they question my absence? Besides, a father is a crucial role one must be filled no matter what. And I'm fully intending to be present at all." He coaxed you, whispering words of promises he wants to fulfil. "There are studies out there that an incomplete family slows down children's development."

He continued to try and let you see his perspective.

"With my influence, nobody can touch you and the children. I promise, I won't be an asshole again and ridicule you. I am so sorry for saying those things." Iñigo whispered as tears filled his eyes. "I regretted all of those. Every single day since you left, I felt like a husk, I know something was wrong, and that I was that something. I hurt someone so precious to me."

Why would he need to dirty his hands when his words and acting skills were enough to persuade you?

Iñigo knelt down, hugging your waist, begging, groveling for you to come back.

And when he saw your resolve crack in front of him, he hid his smirk as he continued to sob in front of you.

His words were working.

Besides, he knows the children were your soft spot.

He was thankful for the existence of your children. If not, he'll probably resort to... Extreme ways just to get you back.

Maybe like, making your company bankrupt with him the only lifeline left.

But now, he held your waist tightly, listening to your words as you gave up trying to fight his logic.

You were his.

And you will continue to be his,

Until death do you part.

[bleue-flora]

Now that we have more info and access, let's talk about Quackity's tools shall we...

On day one, Quackity brings a pair of unenchanted shears and Sam gives him WARDENS WILL and WARDENS HAMMER as well as some item frames (which as an aside I’ve always thought is such an unhinged inclusion…).

Thus completing the trifecta of torture tools that we see in the montage later [clip]. :]

But we also know that it doesn’t end there, because in the other 2 visits we get to see he actually doesn’t even use Sam weapons (besides WARDENS TORMENT), so we know there are other undefined tools, which is why it’s so exciting to now be able to see inside chests and inventories because now we can analyze and speculate to kinda determine what those tools might have been and their enchantments (and perhaps the implications of their enchantments)…

So, for starters, in that same montage it also shows Quackity grabbing tools from a room and throwing them on the floor [seen below], which ends up being what looks like 3 neitherite axes, 3 netherite swords, and 1 pair of shears, likely implying that multiple weapons of the same type were also used (further supported by the fact that we see him use both WARDENS HAMMER and a netherite axe with low durability). Tragically, this storage room stocked with netherite weapons doesn’t exist on the map [post] :( so instead I’m gonna determine what I think are the most likely candidates from the chests in the prison, Las Nevdas, Quackity’s inventory and Sam’s inventory.

Now I’m gonna assume that 1 of the 3 axes thrown on the ground and 1 of the 3 swords are WARDENS HAMMER and WARDENS WILL, because there are not enough reasonable or qualifying sword or axe options in the locations we have to look at (this of course all based on the assumption that they aren’t in this storage room on the other map they filmed it on or didn’t have Mending and broke).

The second axe dropped I’m gonna say is the one with low durability seen in both the streams where he tries to get Dream to write the letter and the one with Techno later, which matches the one in Quackity’s ender chest with Efficiency V and mending. This axe is pretty interesting for the fact that is does not have sharpness on it, perhaps that is because that does too much damage. It’s low durability makes a lot of sense based on the lack of Unbreaking, and the Mending actually confirms what I had already theorized based off of the bottles of enchanting in his inventory when he visits rivals duo, which certainly has some implications about how much he used this axe to the point he needed to mend it mid session…

After the 2 axes, we see a sword and again I’m gonna just say this is WARDENS WILL. The last axe I’m gonna say is most likely the one in Quackity’s inventory with Efficiency V, Fortune III, Mending, Sharpness V, Unbreaking III. This one has much more durability, perhaps because of the Unbreaking or because we don’t see it in the visits we get, maybe because it has Sharpness V he doesn’t use it as much.

The second sword I’m gonna say is also one from his inventory called SPIDER MASTER 2000 with Bane of Arthropods V, Fire Aspect, Unbreaking III, and Mending. Based on the name and Arthropods, this sword was likely made for the purpose of farming xp in the spider farm, but I’d say it’s not unreasonable to think Quackity used it for other things too. Makes me wonder if that Athropods enchantment has any strange effect on a person. And don’t even get me started on the Fire Aspect. :]

The third sword I’m gonna say is this one in a chest in the prison with Knockback II, Looting III, Mending, Sharpness V, Sweeping Edge III, and Unbreaking III, for 2 reasons 1) the chest it is in includes building items such as Quartz and Smooth Stone [highlighted in yellow] which are not present in the prison but are in multiple areas of Las Nevadas and 2) It has full durability, but has Mending to explain that unlike the other nethrite swords in the prison (minus the Guard Sword, which I doubt he let Q use) and Sam’s inventory, all with high durability. Perhaps we could make up some reason like perhaps using the Sweeping Edge or Knockback to explain the full durability and why it’s in a chest in the prison. Perhaps it is Sam’s sword but Quackity was miss using it or the enchantments on it made it too dangerous or something, so Sam made him heal it and return it. Maybe that’s why he stops giving Quackity his Warden weapons too… who knows.

Then we see a pair of unenchanted shears, which we see him with in his first visit and the one with rivals duo. Give that shears durability doesn’t last long in general and that these are unenchanted, it’s probably reasonable to say that he perhaps broke and brought multiple pairs of unenchanted shears so to pin down the specific pair isn’t great, but we do see a pair in a hidden chest under the Needle in Las Nevadas (and irl wise it’s not like they did 80 scenes of torture so this could technically be the pair from the rivals duo stream (and maybe even the first visit)). Especially since it also has a pair of iron pants and an enchanted diamond sword like we see in his inventory during that stream. An enchanted diamond sword also appears in the letter visit and I’m gonna say they are both this sword with Sharpness I. It has higher durability than the one seen in the rivals visit, but perhaps he healed it with a diamond or something. This diamond sword is pretty interesting in the fact that it isn’t netherite like the ones shown in the montage, so it also than does less damage, even more so due to the minimum enchantments. Perhaps that’s what makes it such a good option for torture as it doesn’t do too much damage and kill Dream on accident.

During the rivals duo visit, we also see WARDENS TORMENT which to my suprise only has Unbreaking III not Mending. We also see an unenchanted diamond pickaxe. Now we could say he only brought the pickaxe with the purpose of getting his revenge or we could take it as a sign that he used pickaxes too outside of just shears, swords and axes. After all, WARDENS WILL BREAKER is the name of Sam’s pickaxe, so surely it was used when trying to break Dream’s will (and if that then perhaps the netherite pickaxe in Quackity’s inventory as well).

Furthermore, when Quackity runs into George outside the prison, we see him carrying an enchanted diamond pickaxe likely the same one in his inventory with Fortune II and Unbreaking III, which I’d say can be reasonably assumed to have been used inside the prison (perhaps just for convenience sake). Especially because, also in his inventory at the time is a stack of seeds, which appears in the chest with the enchanted diamond sword and shears which we already determined were likely used.

So, those are all the things we can more reasonably conclude with some reasonings and conclusions definitely stronger than others. Even further though if we wanted to really start to theorize, there is an also an argument to be made (that I’ve actually highlighted before [posts - <> <>]) that if he uses pickaxes why not also shovels? And hoes? And maybe even one of Sam tridents, perhaps WARDENS MERCY with Channeling [post]? [potential weapons used highlighted in red] I don’t know, it’s really mostly all theoretical but fun to think about anyways, I mean we do have Quackity’s comment in the letter visit, “I’ll show you which one I’ll use this time around.” [clip] and Dream’s comment to Foolish, “Sam, you know, let him in the prison, let him bring in tools—and shears, and they tried to torture the revive book out of me…” [clip] which does somewhat support the reasoning for more variety of tools. After all, why doesn’t Dream say weapons and shears? Seems to me like you’d use tools to include the shears, cuz swords and axes are just weapons. (We can obviously explain this away for many reason but that’s besides the point). Plus I mean based off of what Dream said in Daedalus as noted we tend to like to reasonably assume a knife and chair was involved (further supported by ccSam if we chose to believe his unhinged comments lol XD), and that certainly opens the door for other things…

[raayllum]

So I always meant to do a little meta about Rayla and sleep (aka sleeps sitting up in S4, lying down but fully dressed + with her weapons in S5 — and now in PJs without weapons in s6) and it never happened (to my memory), but it did make me think about how I wanted to talk about Callum's whole thing with sleep in S6, namely how bad it is, as well as a bit about Viren and Rayla by proxy.

So in S6 we see Callum have two nightmares (the pearl sleepwalking nightmare and dark magic nightmare, shall we see) in 6x01 and 6x03. He wakes up once in 6x01 and then stays awake all night coming up with the decoy plan and sewing the anti magic blanket. He's still seemingly catching up on sleep days later in 6x03, with Rayla letting him just as she did before, and he has his second nightmare. In the Frozen Ship he struggles to sleep at first because of the cold, as he won't share the blanket, and then wakes up again naturally in the night, but won't let himself kiss Rayla. All except the cold is ultimately rooted in Callum's concerns over Aaravos and his susceptibility to Aaravos because of dark magic.

We see this sleeplessness and concern return in 6x06 as well, before it's 'resolved' (for the season). This nightmare and restlessness is something Viren experienced a bit of in S4 (namely 4x07), but we see it more consistently in S6, specifically with nightmares and fears of Aaravos using him as well, him waking up fitfully twice in 6x05:

Most of this fits with other aspects of the series. Dark magic causes you to fall into a coma-like state that persisted even once Viren 'woke up,' the comas themselves involve nightmares / tormented dreams, and Janai directly cites Aaravos' influence over them (5x03, 5x09): "Aaravos taunts me in my dreams with visions of destruction and despair" (6x02). Dark magic and sleep can both be associated with death, and are both interwoven with passing out, the actual possession, Aaravos' hold over you being a canonical fate worse than death (restful eternal sleep), hence why both Viren and Callum choose it over continued control.

The thing that I thought was interesting that was not only how frequent is Callum's lack of rest in S6, after seasons of routinely sleeping fairly well, as an overarching consequence leftover from 5x08 and everything going on... but also that his insomnia isn't exclusively because of Aaravos or dark magic guilt either, as in Viren's case, but also (more positively) because of his bond with Rayla.

Of course to begin, there's the subtext that Callum feels safe sleeping beside / around her (your partner should give you rest from the horrors of the world, etc etc, particularly with her continued opposition to Aaravos' hold on Callum that S6 is going to make direct text after seasons of subtext). But in the vein of Rayla's hold on Callum being 1) equally powerful and 2) can overlap with more circumstantial qualities (sometimes good, sometimes bad) for his.

For example, Callum is sleepless in 6x05 because he's trying to figure out the ice heart spell in order to defeat the 'behemoth':

We later learn (though myself and many others already suspected) that his fixation on it through the night was because he knew the reward for defeating the 'monster' would be quasar diamonds, and he wanted them for Rayla's family.

Then, just as 6x06 opens with Callum being sleepless, the episode also closes in a similar manner. Whereas before it was anxiety and Aaravos keeping him awake, this time it's Rayla and the promise of full reconciliation. A redo.

What does this all mean, though? Well:

Sleep (+ nightmares) are used to further link Viren and Callum in S6 with mirrored fears of being used by Aaravos

It strengthens the connection between Aaravos, dark magic, and dreams/nightmares, as well as bringing Janai into the loop

Like Callum and Rayla, Janai is also sleepless in 6x02, but is seeking Amaya's story, and lets her partner in. Callum does the same with and for Rayla throughout S6

Callum's relationship with sleep being influenced in a negative manner by Aaravos (anxiety, insomnia, nightmares, puppetting) and a positive manner by Rayla (comfort, thoughtfulness, love, mutual devotion) is another way the two elves are put in opposition to each other for Callum's fate and wellbeing without making them complete opposites

and I think that's all pretty cool

[dollfaced-erin]

𝔻𝕣𝕒𝕘𝕠𝕟'𝕤 ℂ𝕣𝕒𝕕𝕝𝕖 (Blade x F!Reader x Jing Yuan)

PART 18

PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 , PART 9 , PART 10 , PART 11 , PART 12 , PART 13 , PART 14 , PART 15 , PART 16 , PART 17

A/n :

i'm trying my best to schedule myself, but reading all the rqs i have, im getting pumped up to write again ! though i am having some trouble writing some rqs and it either may take me some time to think about it, or i'll really be stumped looking at it... these days i havent been feeling much motivated so i've been taking time for myself to reconstruct words and redevelop nice and pretty sentences again. I...also am feeling like changing the pictures i use for dragon's cradle...i'm not sure how to though...dw, i'll canva through it ! PENACONY 2.2 IS DROPPING TOMORROW AND IM SO EXCITED-- (this is pre-2.2 dont come at me please,,,) ROBIN WANTERS WILL BE HAVERS TRUST !

Taglist :

@rebeccawinters , @nayukiyukihira , @pix-stuff , @fluffy-koalala , @swivy123 , @starxao , @kaoyamamegami , @kimura-uzuri , @rsvye , @seikouryuu , @just-here-reading , @matsulovesyou, @sincerely-aaronette , @prettyliliy , @chibiduck , @hermosacolibri , @la-diablas-thingz , @farelady-fate , @everi-eve , @shadowfoxey , @helloyuki , @immahuman , @samptlay , @boomie-123

Vidyadhara elegies are the traditional music of the Vidyadhara people. The Vidyadhara use only simple castanets for musical instruments, relying on extremely diverse sets of melodies.

Originating from their folk songs, the style is generally that of mournful dirges. Vidyadhara elegies can be said to represent all of the most tragic aspects of Xianzhou culture, as Vidyadhara players tend to sing about loves lost and pyrrhic victories.

"The previous High Elders have all met with a fate worse than death..." Said an old voice, troubled by the troubles that have been plaguing him ever since his rise onto the position.

"From the first Imbibator Lunae...they have all met their demise in a way no one would expect. The challenge to overthrow them is just getting audacious by the day !" Exclaimed another voice, a woman, perhaps trying to convince someone with her thoughts and principles.

Yes...there was always the threat of assassination from all corners, and if he didn't choose well and right before his time came, be it naturally or by the hand of a forsaken soul, the Luofu shall be plunged into peril without the proper head of a scion to properly guide them...

The horned man thought deeply about this, his gaze looking out the window. His bright and intelligent eyes were gazing up at the moon, as if asking for the guidance of the entity that graced his name. He was supposed to be the wise one, guiding his people and stirring them away from chaos and destruction that may befall upon them. Be it in his time or another...he had his responsibilities set out for him.

So the dragon sighed softly, hoping that none of the Preceptors had heard his little act of impatience and negativity, apprehensive that they may assume that he was finding this all a hassle for him to think about, or even find his improper and impolite behavior discourteous.

It was...too much for him to assume alone. The matter now was in his hands, and not those before him. What he did now would paint portraits towards his ancestors and previous incarnations, and stain the names of his future reincarnations...

He looked beside him, where there was a beautiful young woman, sitting, minding her own business. On her hand was a lovely ring, a sentiment that she was taken by her betrothed. Her (h/c) hair gleamed under the moonlight's grace, letting it shine brighter that the waves of the deep ocean that submerged Scalegorge Waterscape.

Her bright eyes landed on his troubled figure, gracing him with a smile that washed away his worries, akin to a waterlily floating on the surface of the water of an untouched lake. She got up, silks embroidered by the masterful hands of the Vidyadhara craftsmen cupping his cheeks lovingly.

"What's troubling you, my beloved...?" She asked sweetly, her glossy lips still gracing the smile that he wished to protect with every fiber of his draconic being.

Though she wasn't a High Elder, and didn't possess much abilities that were deemed extraordinary to the eyes of the Preceptors. But she was the one that managed the quell the rage that continued to flare in his heart, calming him down with a mere caress of her smooth hands, smoother than the moondrop flowers growing in the silence of night.

To him...she was wiser than anyone else of their caliber.

Being childhood lovers, she watched him grow, she was by his side when he received the eye of abysm, she stood proud in the crowd once he was declared the full-fledge Imbibator Lunae.

His beloved wife.

"My...moon..." The saddened High Elder whispered, his hands rising up to cup her gentle hands that caressed her cheeks. "I...am deeply sorrowed..."

"I must choose the next descendent for our lineage..." He said, leaning into her healing and comforting touch. "Perhaps...we could choose the egg together...?"

"Like...choosing our own children...?" The wife asked, almost jumping in place in surprise. Her (e/c) eyes were wide, almost elated at the prospect of...children.

It was a foreign concept to them, since Vidyadhara's aren't able to reproduce like regular Xianzhou natives. But imagining it...

"Yes...just like--huh ? Children ?" The Imbibator Lunae said, blinking his eyes at her with confusion. Was she serious ? No, that cant be...

"Wait, not one child ?" "Huh, why just choose one when we can have two ?" "But what about the Dragon Heart ?"

"What about it ? One could have it, and we could ask the Perceptors to bind them as siblings, or...perhaps, grow them together to be siblings."

"Siblings..." Imbibator Lunae thought, remembering that Xianzhou natives and Foxians had that concept. It clicked in his mind. His lover had a point, and he had come to realize something.

This...burden of being the Imbibator Lunae...was too much for one person to handle. One responsibility too much for one soul. He...wouldn't be able to protect himself if he was too occupied with the affairs that concerned him more than his own being, like his beloved...

Even the past High Elders had met with a demise no one could foresee, meaning...that there was also no one else to back up and they only had one goal. His stress was thankfully managed by the presence of his beloved, which had grown by his side since she had broken off her shell. But what about the past Imbibator Lunae...?

It was...too much for one person. Too easy to overthrow.

But before the couple could properly choose their heir...the beloved...had fallen before he did.

In his arms, he held the dying and distraught woman in his arms, a gaping hole in her chest from the knife that pierced her without warning, leaving it to penetrate her body before she managed choose their heir together.

Today was supposed to be a joyous day...a day where the two of them would hold hands and walk with the Pearlkeepers to look at the eggs that gleamed brightly, hoping to find potential that would help the Luofu prosper more than in his time. But as they turned their backs, they were blinded by the threats that still lingered to take the couple down, and not even Cloudhymn magic could save her now...

The Imbibator Lunae roared in pain and despair, holding his beloved's dying body close to him, knowing he had to quickly rush her to the egg and let it heal her. But he just...wanted to see her one last time, and give her one last kiss.

The dragon bent down its mourning self, lips pressed against its mate's forehead one final time as tears streamed down his eyes, now dull after the tragic robbery of his beloved from his embrace.

He...couldn't survive this world without her. He couldn't bear the days where she would no longer stand by his side, holding his hand, cupping his face with her small and warm palms. He couldn't bear the days where she wouldn't smile at him, where she would no longer be able to press her lips against his.

No...he couldn't...

So he decided to take the final step, and return his beloved into the egg the Pearlkeepers had kindly provided for her, quietly leading the mourning husband to give his wife her final goodbye.

"I'll see you again, my beloved." He whispered, kissing her forehead with tenderness he had never shown her, not even on their wedding day.

"And...my heart will always be with you. Because one the day we met...you have stolen it, and had always kept it safe. So I'm giving it to you, to remember that only you will ever have my heart, be it the one pumping blood in my body, or the one that my power stems from."

"Without you here by my side...what is all this power for if I cannot protect the one I love...?"

"My dear...Saltator Lunae..."

So he chose his new descendent.

And thus...was born two dragons with beautiful horns on their heads, the older brother's arms curling around his newly hatched sister protectively. His grip was tight, arms holding her close and his teal colored tail coiling around her small form. Their embrace was too heartwarming, not even the maids dared to separate them.

Perhaps this child wished to protect her, vowing deep in his heart to never let anything happen to his precious baby girl. A dragon who had horns just like him. A little smile was etched on his face as he inhaled the scent of lilies that radiated from her soft tufts of hair even though he was deep in slumber.

The Preceptors had to hold a meeting amongst them, trying to figure out what to do with these two set of children. It seemed that they had inadvertently inherited the power of the Permanence, both with the outstanding traits of the true heir to power.

"But the boy was hatched first before the girl ! He is the one with true power to the throne !" One argued, quickly hushed by the other. "But the shell he was cast off from wasn't the one which the past Imbibator Lunae had instructed us to watch over so carefully !"

"The girl is the one with the heart. The one that had passed those trials and irrefutably inherited the power of the Dragon Heart. Both...succeeded in the Transmutation Arcanum..." the oldest of them said, his voice ruling over all other reasons.

"The boy had hatched earlier, with horns and the potential reeking from his form no one dared doubt." Said the wise Vidyadhara elder. "Even the inspectors from the Xianzhou Fanghu had acknowledged that power and potential seeped from these two eggs..."

"But no one...could have ever anticipated the birth of two individuals with draconic traits." Said another. "Everyone had experienced the tremor of incredulous potential, yet we merely betted on which would be the true successor..."

"What if...their fate was to rule together...?" said a woman's voice, loud amongst the chatter and discussion.

"The previous High Elder once wrote in a will, that shall it be a boy that was hatched from the shell, his name Dan Feng, and if she was a girl...name her Dan Jia." The wisest of them all spoke, his voice thundering through the hall as they began to rise to a conclusion.

"But those were the terms for the egg so closely guarded..." He said, little confusion at what was apparently happening.

"Born first, we had called the boy, who bore an uncanny resemblance to his predecessor...as Dan Feng." The old clan member reminded. "And for the egg that had been announced as the next heir...with the dragon heart in the small vessel...she will be named Dan Jia."

"For the first time in the Xianzhou history, let there be two High Elders ruling on the Luofu, siblings, who would equally rule and succeed in aspects failed." He said, rising upon his seat at the head of the table. "One destined for power to eliminate the abominations of celestial bodies, and the other, protecting the heart that stems greatness for them both !"

"The boy is named Dan Feng, the Imbibator Lunae as his predecessors once were...and the girl...shall be named Dan Jia. Saltator Lunae, just as the couple that reigned before they were born."

The table of Preceptors began to clap, finding this new embodiment of power astounding and magnificent, never seen before. Their sounds of clapping was thunderous, almost disturbing the pair that was sleeping a couple rooms away.

"Ngh..." muttered the young boy, curling around his little sister even further, hiding her in his chest to prevent the sounds from hurting her ears and frightening her.

The paper written for the will was yellowed, yet the words on it were still clearly visible to be read. It was preserved despite the passage of time, reflecting the man who sat by his desk, holding the brush in his hand.

"Imbibator Lunae is for the man who enjoys his drinks, watching the moon that gazes so brightly upon him. But where lies the joy of drinking such fine liquor without a desirable dancer ? For the Saltator Lunae would accompany him in his darkest days, moonlight bathing her skin and showing him the way."

(Y/n) looked at the soldier, kneeling before a Foxian healer who had...an unnerving smile on her lips. She didn't have a good feeling about this. Why wasn't this healer laying him on the ground, treating his wounds ? Or why was she standing over him, as if waiting for something to happen...?

The soldier looked as if he was really experiencing torment, his head cradled in his hands as if it were about to burst. Yet the healer did nothing, merely watching as his progress began to deteriorate.

Before (Y/n) could warn and pull March back, the unaware girl began to take her hand and rushed towards the pair.

"Here ! There are still survivors !" March said, almost relieved to see that there were still living people despite the blood battleground she had just witnessed earlier. Perhaps it was a sight to behold, as she wasn't as trained on these grounds as Welt or (Y/n) was.

But Welt seemed to catch on quite quickly, his gaze sharp as he observed the scene before him. It was as if he knew that something was indeed amiss, the same something that (Y/n) was experiencing.

"Hmm...?" Hummed the woman, turning around to face the group that had approached them. Her gaze seemed to be pleased for a bit, before it turned into a scowl. "You're not the Knights...what is your purpose here ? It's dangerous."

There was something in her tone that made (Y/n) feel uneasy. She sounded like she was...worried, but there was a certain hiss in her voice that made (Y/n) sure that she wasn't happy with them intruding in her...business with this knight.

"We're reinforcements sent by the General. Where's everyone else ?" Welt asked, trying to keep the situation under control and calm. Well...with this situation, it wasn't hard to see where it would eventually end up.

The Foxian woman scoffed, crossing over her arms as she heard what Welt had just relayed. "Tsk, resorting to short-life species as reinforcements...hehe, Jing Yuan is really running out of options..."

The taunting and worrying smile was back on the 'healer's' lips as she mentioned that Jing Yuan was possibly running low on manpower to properly eradicate the current problem. And it seems that she hadn't yet noticed that (Y/n) was with them.

It was expected, since communication the the Alchemy delve has been cut off since a few system hours ago. There would be no way for them to know of the current issue happening on the other bodies of the Luofu, such as (Y/n)'s awakening.

"They're here to escort me. The General and the Master Diviner had laid out specific orders for them to tread safely, as well as ensure my safety to tend to the casualties." (Y/n) said, stepping forward to face off this 'healer'.

"You...who do you think you--" The angered look on the woman's face was quickly replaced with shock and fear as she realized the horns that grew from (Y/n)'s head.

"You cant be..."

"All of you ! Run !" Cried out the Knight who was still weak on the ground, battling his own pain that seemed to be almost unbearable for him. "She's a disciple of Sanctus Medicus !"

All color began to drain from everyone's skin, leaving them pale and terrified at the 'healer' lady before them. March's grip on (Y/n)'s hand tightened, indicating that this was not the outcome she had expected to be. A direct face off with the supporters of the Plagues Author !

"Silence." The woman hissed, looking at the fallen soldier. "If my healing worked, you'll become one of us. Then..."

She looked at (Y/n), the grin almost impossibly widening on her face.

"It wont be just me they'll be running from."

It all happened too fast. As if on cue, the fallen Knight began his gruesome transformation. Branches began to sprout from his skin, tearing it apart. His armor began to be one with his skin, almost molding entirely with his being. His body began to surge with incredulous power, rendering his senses numb and murderous intent increasing tenfold.

"Lady (Y/n) !"

"GET BACK !"

(Y/n) quickly pushed March behind her, taking up front with Welt by her side, who came to terms with the situation faster than the younger women. With a nod to the brunette, (Y/n) produced her glass hand fan from thin air, the weapon of choice materializing in her hand quicker than light. Welt held his cane, ready to unleash the power of the black hole that he had kept sealed, hoping to never unleash its full potential.

The knight began to rush towards them, tears in his eyes as he tried his best to land his lightest attacks for as long as he remained conscious, for a soldier's dignity lies in their death. Losing control and his mind...would be a warrior's worst nightmare.

His attacks were still deadly and heavy, but he had no control whatsoever over his doings. Though he was experienced with enhanced abilities, (Y/n) and Welt did their best to fend off the regretful man, hoping to put him to rest in the calmest and most humane way.

"Please...I'm sorry..." the man pitifully cried as (Y/n) parried his attack with her fan, swiftly landing a kick to his side. The dragon woman was indeed merciful, and she had her sympathies for the man who had lost all hope of regaining his former pride.

But why couldn't she get close in and quickly put him to rest...?

Unlike the Exhalting Sanctum...she didn't have much memory of herself to full deploy and outlet her power. But now that she was aware...why wasn't she...

She felt like there were still a reign of shackles tying her down...

"Why are you apologizing ?! Didn't you all come here to the Xianzhou to seek immortality ?!" The woman screeched, watching from the backlines as more celestial beings of abundance began to advance towards them.

"You don't have to appease Jing Yuan ! The Disciples of Sanctus Medicus can grant your every wish ! To be immortal like the Natives ! To have a long and prosperous life like the Vidyadhara people !" She cackled, eyes glinting with malice and insanity as she watched the group begin to get surrounded.

(Y/n) was busy fending off the lost soldier as well as getting herself surrounded left and right by borisins and their shadow kin. Though how many times she had launched attacks, she was never able to fully push them back. She was at a loss, she was afraid and worried...

She understood now. Why she couldn't blindly charge in...

She was afraid of losing control of her power if she used it without her brother by her side...

Welt was by her side, exerting himself to his greatest ability to never cause harm, potentially plunging everyone into deep danger if he lost control. March and Stelle were backing them up, with March using her bow and Stelle with her bat, coursing with the crackling power of destruction.

They were all fighting...they were all in danger...

"Please, Lady (Y/n)..." the soldier begged her. "Let me meet the end I deserve."

"Let me die with honor..."

"Honor...?" (Y/n) whispered, her voice coming out in breaths of white, cold from the ice she produced. But the man before her nodded, hoping she'd do the best thing she could.

She was afraid...hoping to never misuse her power in fear of destruction it entails. But he was right. She had people she must protect, whether or not her brother was there to properly keep her power in check.

"I understand."

With a small smile on her lips, the dragon lady began to come close to her companions, hoping that they'll be within her protection. With a single rise of her fan, just as she had done with Yanqing, rose an illusion of an ice lotus, trapping her companions to keep them safe.

"I'm sorry." (Y/n) whispered, looking at the infected before her, before her eyes began to glow, and her tail appearing behind her. She never wished for her power to be out of control, yet to protect, one must go through lengths far beyond boundaries.

(Y/n) held her fan tight in her hand, close to her chest. With a single swing of her fan, water from the sea surrounding the delve began to rise, turning into waves as it began to sweep away the entire colony, picking up the borisins and the disciples in its way, pulling them off to the edge with their powerful forces.

For those who managed to withstand her waves, she cast upon them winds that would cut through them and hinder their sight. With a single stroke of her fan, she sent amplified ice blizzards, cutting through their regenerating skins time and time again like tiny razor blades, faster than their demonic abilities.

With fingers to her lips, her pointer and thumb forming a circle, she blew on the tips of her fingers to send out her ice, freezing those in her path, starting by freezing the droplets of water on their body, piercing deep into them, and freezing the fluids that coursed as a source of life.

It was like the sea. So gentle and soothing, yet with forces so strong to pull enemies deep into the heavy and dark depths. Some place so comforting like a warm embrace, yet terrifying with depths of unknown danger.

Once the waves had washed off the pavilion, all that was left...were the frozen bodies of the loyal worshippers of the Plagues Author. It was cleaned out from the remaining infected lives that were threatening their own, reminding her of the sins that would be washed away by the sea when they were reborn...

"Woah ! Looks like the frozen statues of the antimatter legion back on Jarilo-VI !" March excitedly said, looking at the figures encased in ice for as long as (Y/n) willed for it.

The young pink-haired woman then turned to look at (Y/n), wanting to know more and perhaps ask about if she could do the same as (Y/n). But as she turned around, (Y/n) was already walking into the 'exhibit' of her power.

"Lady (Y/n) ! H-hey, where are you going ?!"

Then she heard little voices as she walked past the frozen statues...

"Brother...shall one day we cast off our old shells...would we be able to find each other again...?" Said a young child voice from afar.

"Maybe...my little moonflower. We'll never know..." Replied a slightly more mature voice, explaining to the young child in the kindest way possible.

"But should you ever forget me...the things you've done in this life is bound to make you remember little by little, no matter how hard you try."

Before her was the fallen Cloud Knight, who begged her to end him in the most honorable way. He was on the ground, kneeling, trying to control the plague that threatened to run rampant despite his exhausted state.

"It seems...that even you...haven't found the path yet, my Lady..." The knight said, laughing bitterly, yet still respectfully. "Leave, my Lady, for they have 'converted me'. I don't have much longer..."

"I'm here...to give you one last gift..." (Y/n) said softly, cold air leaving her thin lips, frosty like the gaze in her eyes.

"One...that may even help prolong your path to your fated end." She said softly as she knelt before him.

She was tired, having exerted most her powers into summoning the tides, still unused to properly controlling it over the centuries of unending dormancy. She wanted to rest, perhaps even curl up while she cuddled her tail like a child. But now wasn't the time for it.

There were duties to be fulfilled...

Swiftly lifting up her hands, she exercised hand signs of various meanings as if it were her second nature, much more precise than that blind woman that existed before she broke those shackles binding her down.

The only way to progress in life...was to accept and adapt.

Her pointer finger and middle finger together held up before her, she shut her eyes as she began to trace the spores that existed within the man's body. With swift and precise movements, she immediately moved swift as the wind, and as piercing as a dragon's talon.

Unlike the woman that had just awoken, blind and foolish to the world that revolved around her, tossing smiles and laughter like the fleeting leaves in the air...she was no longer shackled, nor bound.

Unlike her past...she would never act foolishly again fearing the recurring pitiful demise of a dreamer who lived to dance and love.

(Y/n) stood up, a soft sigh leaving her lips as she dusted off her clothes. The team approached her side, looking down at the soldier before them, lying on the ground as if he were taking a nap from a grueling shift. Her eyes softened, the feelings of mercy and regret ebbing away at her soul.

"What...happened to him ?" March asked softly, holding Stelle's hand for comfort.

"Did you...give him his final embrace, Lady (Y/n) ?" Tingyun slowly asked, trying to step around the bubbling waters.

(Y/n) didn't turn around to face them, but instead parted her lips to give her response, a hand raised to her ear to gently touch the trinket that hung from her pointed organ. "Nothing. Just...soothed his pain a little."

Then she took in a deep breath, looking forward, as if regaining her peace by touching the windchime. "Right. Should we stumble upon a recuperation camp, let's inform them of this one. At the very least, they would be able to send this one to the Ten-Lords Commission."

Along the path, they stumbled across more bodies that have been swept up in the clashing of worlds. Divine celestial beings on the ground with wounds healing at an impossible rate, fallen bodies of the Knights that have half transformed into the forsaken, life leaving their beings before their twisted methods were complete.

There were even some which (Y/n) had them stop in the middle of the way to provide relief, either putting them to sleep to induce the pain, or freezing their cores and helping them relax as they healed after fierce and relentless battles.

But one thing caught her eye. That amicassador.

The Dragon Lady's gaze never left her being, always keeping her in the outermost corner of her sight. There was...something odd about her. Perhaps the striders of the trailblaze would've never noticed, but she sensed...a cosmical energy emanating from that Foxian girl.

There's just something...off with this girl. The way she talks, her interests, her stance during the fight earlier. Something wasn't right.

She didn't have much time to ponder. Due to their thundering steps of different weights and paces, they began to alarm the individuals standing guard past the wall they were about to round.

"Who goes there ?! Show yourselves !" Called out a clear voice of a male, sense of urgency and alert in his tone.

Cloud Knights. They had really reached their temporary base.

Welt took charge, walking ahead of them to confront the guards. "We come in peace." He said, almost making the rest of them snicker in amusement with the way he walked up to them with raised hands.

The guards, of course, didn't seem to take this lightly. But there was relief shining in their eyes when they see the esteemed guests of the General of the Xianzhou Luofu escorting the long awaited Dragon Lady.

"Saltator Lunae !" They sighed in relief. "Quickly, in here ! It's dangerous outside."

"You knew we were coming already ?" March said as they were escorted by one of the guards into the camp, the other standing guard. March was quite curious to how the Cloud Knights weren't that much fazed by their arrival.

"The Master Diviner prophesized your arrival. We were ordered to wait for you under any circumstance." He assured with a steady nod of his helmeted head.

"So...the Master Diviner is already here ?" (Y/n) asked, storing away her fan since she deemed it to be safe for her and her companions.

"Yes. The Master Diviner ordered us to remained stationed here and went to scout ahead." He affirmed again. "They're saying the Disciples of Sanctus Medicus have returned-- they haven't been seen for an age. The troops are anxious."

"I...can imagine." She said with a slight nod of her own head.

"It's good you arrived. The Master Diviner said the Knights weren't to move out until you arrived." He said, but then remembered one more important note.

"Right. While you are here, and we're awaiting the next orders of the Master Diviner, there is something that needs to be clarified." He said seriously, looking at the group. "This is as far as Lady (Y/n) will follow you, esteemed guests of the General."

The group gasped a little, but they were by no chance much surprised. They knew they were missioned to just escort her, but was it just until here, or would they re-group ? But it was the General's orders.

"May I ask what happens from now on ?" (Y/n) asked, a little curious to her next course of fate that awaited her.

The Cloud Knight nodded, standing straight before the honorable woman before him. "Yes, my Lady. General Jing Yuan himself had ordered us to have you wait here. He will come soon, and lead a separate path from the Master Diviner."

"As far as we are informed, you will be joining him on a more confrontational matter."

For some reason she felt a tingle spark up her spine. For some reason she was anxious. For some reason...she was scared.

Something bad was bound to happen.

[branwyn-the-half-witch]

Comparative Mythologies of the Long Night: Part Two – Azor Ahai and The Red Sword

In part one, we looked at the origin story of the Long Night, and the ways in which it is reflected in the main series. Now, we shall move on to discuss the heroes who seemingly saved the world.

The most notable of these heroes, with whom you are likely aware, is the one most commonly known as Azor Ahai; emerging from Asshai, this is the hand that wields the flaming sword Lightbringer. They are also known as Hyrkoon the Hero, Yin Tar, Neferion, and Eldric Shadowchaser.

As a brief aside, it is interesting to note that all of these names can be related to specific places in Essos; the Patrimony of Hyrkoon is an ancient nation, Yin is a city in Yi Ti that has often been its capital, ‘Nefer’ is the last city in the distant kingdom of N’ghai, ‘the Shadow’, or the ‘Shadow Lands’ are a region in the furthest east, with AssHAI in the southwest, serving as something of a gateway to them – and it is the Shadow, as we will later learn, from whence the dragons may have first originated; tamed by an ancient, unnamed people.

Whether this solid anchoring of these heroic aliases in various places means anything more than a suggestion that the hero – or heroes – may have come from there, or were perhaps claimed by those peoples, I will leave you to ponder. For now, we shall turn to Azor Ahai’s legend.

Of Azor Ahai (AA), we have the most available information of all of the legends we shall discuss. He is also the only one explicitly prophesied to return again, and the manner in which AA shall return and be heralded is very clearly laid out for us from multiple sources.

AA is described as a leader, wielding a burning sword that radiates heat and light. He gave ‘courage to […] men and [led] the virtuous into battle’, returning ‘light and love’ to the world. So we should account for these aspects, as well as the finer points of the prophecy.

Much has been said about who AA reborn might be, with many candidates proposed. I will not be spilling that ink here; it’s Daenerys. Born on Dragonstone, a smoking isle in the great salt sea, she arose when darkness gathered and, beneath a bleeding star, awoke dragons from stone.

I would also point out that even Jon Snow, upon hearing of the Prophecy in the context of Mel’s candidate Stannis, zeroes on the importance of Stannis not being born on Dragonstone. One can almost hear the author himself tapping his fingers impatiently, no?

If you favour another candidate, a more abstract interpretation of the prophecy, feel free to do your own research and present it elsewhere; I am interested primarily in exploring the myths, not arguing. However, I do hope you will let me expand on my case and consider it fairly.

Dany becomes a leader, bringing hope and courage to mankind and returning light and love to those lost in the darkness. Moreover, she inspires them to fight for themselves, for their lives and loves; leading them into battle, but not doing their fighting for them.

I would also briefly highlight this echo of command from Quaithe, in light of one of AA’s names being ‘Shadowchaser’ – and that Quaithe wishes Dany to go to Asshai, from whence the myths of AA were born and the prophecy was written.

Going back here may mean in a temporal sense, revisiting the origins of AA and learning who he was, what he did, and most notably for Daenerys, why it was needed. She is, as present, unaware of the encroaching darkness that threatens the world, on any level except subconsciously through her dreams. A revelation is needed.

To add to this, we have the ‘Prince that was Promised’ title; these are used interchangeably with AA by Mel and by Maester Aemon and seem to often refer to the same person; in light of GRRM’s addition of Aegon’s dream to the canon, my interpretation is that they do refer to the same person, but by accident. Though we do not yet have it in GRRM’s words, Aegon saw the return of the Long Night and a Targaryen fighting against it. This is tPtwP, Aegon’s name for this leader who happens to also be the one who woke the dragons from stone to fight the cold.

And it is Aegon’s dream that dream-driven Targaryens have stumbled across in their scrolls – what Rhaegar to become a warrior and thence to confer the promise he initially saw in himself upon his newborn son. The Red Priests who herald Dany speak only of AA; Mel may have discovered tPtwP on Dragonstone itself. All other sources for the Promised Prince title seem to be either Targaryen or Targaryen adjacent – such as Barristan, who himself speaks of Jenny of Oldstones’ witch friend, presumably close to certain Targaryens.

But what of Lightbringer? Daenerys is not trained in arms, so how can she wield a sword? Recall that AA reborn is marked by waking dragons from stone and wielding Lightbringer. There is no separate mention of forging/reforging a sword. Perhaps there is more to the tale than that?

So let us examine Lightbringer and its forging; AA makes three attempts to forge the blade, quenching it in water, lion’s blood and, in his successful forging, the living heart of his wife, Nissa Nissa. The blade is described, by the Jade Compendium, as making its own fiery heat.

The blade never being cold, but being warm as Nissa Nissa was warm, is very alike to the description of dragons being ‘fire made flesh’; and the description of Lightbringer in action resembles nothing so much as the affect of Drogon’s flames. Lightbringer, Red Sword of Heroes, is not a blade; it is the dragons awoken from stone. But what of the three forgings? The exact arrangement of the forgings is sometimes debated, but the one I favour is this arrangement: the first forging in ‘water’.

The second in the ‘heart of a lion’; note that this moment is so important it appears again in the dreams that guide Dany’s steps to her eventual success.

And the third, successful forging – in the ‘sacred flames’ of a funeral pyre, fed by the blood of heart’s beloved. Note the proximity of the water/lion/heart imagery on each occasion, and that the conversations following the first scenes are about dragons, and then about war.

In the chapter prior to the pyre, Dany has dreams haunted by a pursuing cold, and by ghosts urging her on, with very familiar gemstone eyes; this links Dany and the dragons explicitly to the Great Empire of the Dawn and thus to the Long Night that followed the Blood Betrayal.

These dreams also link the dragons to sacrifice, just as Lightbringer is linked to Nissa Nissa’s sacrifice. Dany’s dreams show us the lives lost in her journey to that point (though Drogo is not yet entirely lost to her); those she has lost will lend their names to the dragons.

Blood sacrifice is a deeply potent power, both within ASOIAF and without. Many characters tell us of the potency of shed blood; of kin, king, and of holy men. Within many cultures in our own world, blood sacrifice was a holy act, to ward off catastrophe, as payment – and penance.

In Aztec mythology, for instance, it is now generally understood that blood sacrifice, both of slain captives but also one’s own blood on a daily basis, was both a fuel offered up to the gods for their daily labours, and as repayment for the debt owed by the living to the gods for their sacrifices made when creating the fifth sun, and so all human life. The dreams emphasise Dany’s own shed blood from the beginning; in her bloody footsteps, the burning in her womb, and the burning blood from her torn open back, which ultimately grants her wings.

When the time comes, she offers up her own blood by walking unafraid into the sacred flames of the funeral pyre, to bleed with her fallen beloved. Dany alone, among all Targaryens who have attempted to bring back dragons, took the last and most important step of self-sacrifice.

But if we understand blood sacrificed to be offered up, not just for power but for payment of debt, what debt is Dany paying here? Moreover, have we strayed from AA in this talk of blood magic and penance? I would argue not; for just as Dany’s Lightbringer is living dragons, so too do I believe that AA’s red sword was no literal blade, but dragons also.

I would here posit that Azor Ahai, in the coldest, darkest night, sought to bind fire made flesh to humankind. I propose that he tried and failed twice, before binding dragons to the fate of men.

I implore you to consider that Nissa Nissa was a dragon.

This concludes Part Two. Part Three shall answer the question, ‘what in the world did she mean by that last comment?’, by examining sacrifice, necessity, and the long, sad history of House Targaryen’s ritual offerings of innocence as payment.

[laurentidal]

Shadows We Cast

Sequel to Shining Mother.

Representative Erin Singer walked into the office of someone far above her station for the second time in a week. It had been three days since her meeting with Senator Coronet, but her mind still burned with the light from the Mother's eyes.

Now, she entered the personal office of Shaded Valley CEO, Georgann Mercer. Ms. Mercer was one of Erin's largest donors and the lead voice pushing for developing the Red Stone Mesa. It was Georgann who had filed the request to remove the protection on the land, claiming it was a perfect place for a gated community. Of course, Erin now knew the truth about Red Stone Mesa.

"Erin," Georgann said, not looking up from her papers. "My associates tell me you've withdrawn your proposal for the mesa. I'm hoping there an explanation." She looked up and noticed for the first time that Erin wasn't alone. "Who is this?"

"I believe the appropriate address for her is 'Congresswoman Singer,'" the stranger said, making no attempt to hide her contempt. "You may address me as Mother Dusk."

Georgann frowned as the pair stood on the opposite side of the desk.

"After the amount of money I spent on her campaign, I'll call her Bozo if it pleases me."

"Does it?" Dusk asked. "Does the name Bozo please you? Do you have a clown fetish? Shall we paint her face white and dye her hair green?"

Georgann sputtered slightly, completely unprepared for the conversation to take such a dramatic turn.

"Suddenly silent. Perhaps mimes then?"

"I will not be spoken to in this way," the CEO shouted, finding her voice. "This is my office!"

"Erin," Dusk said softly, ignoring Georgann. "Did this poor excuse for a mime tell you why she wanted Red Mesa so much?"

"No, Mother."

"Well as the sun enlightens the sky, let us be enlightened. Speak, clown."

As the words left her mouth, a ray of light shone through the window, hitting Georgann in the face and dazing her slightly. Dusk's words seemed to come from the light itself and the CEO found herself sputtering an answer before she even realized it.

"There's gold there!" she shouted. "All the locals talk of it. Great seams of gold and I can be the first to mine it."

"Ah so it's gold you're after." Dusk pulled up the hem of her long skirt and revealed bare feet decorated with an ornate golden cuff. "Like this?"

Georgann fell silent again, eyes fixed on the shining metal and its inset jewels. And the painted toes.

"There have always been women like you," Mother Dusk said as Georgann stared hungrily at her feet. "Women and men, of course. Those who seek to exploit our world for their own gain. Gold is the metal of the sun: its power and its glory reflected in the Earth. Long have your kind sought it for themselves. But you cannot cage the sun, and you cannot have our gold."

Georgann's mind felt cool, like a long day drawn to its sleepy end. She hadn't realized she'd begun to salivate.

"As the sun approaches the horizon, the shadows lengthen. Some would believe that they are His absence, but they are yet another of his creations. He casts the shadows, after all, and we serve all his aspects. This is mine."

The woman's knees gave way and she dropped to the floor in front of Mother Dusk's perfect golden toes. Mother Dusk lifted them ever so slightly, and Georgann recognized the invitation. She held the foot in her hand, then slid the toe into her mouth.

"Moonchild Erin," Mother Dusk said. "Go lock the door so we're not interrupted."

"Yes, Mother."

"How do my toes taste, Bozo?"

Georgann could only moan as her tongue swirled around them.

"As He casts his shadows upon the land, I cast one upon your mind. You will ever be in darkness without me. Only I can bring you the light and the heat that you used to know. Your passions are extinguished. Your desires are all cold."

Mother Dusk pulled her foot away and Georgann desperately tried to scramble after it.

"You have been claimed by the Dusk. Say it, clown."

"I have been claimed by the Dusk."

"Good. Now remove those clothes and show me how dark your desires are. Then perhaps I will allow you to experience the heat. But that all depends on your performance. Oh and let's stay in character, shall we. Mimes are silent."

Continue the story in Palace of the Sun.

[ethicaltreatmentofcowplants]

WATCHER: A poolside shoot? In Brindleton Bay, early March? JAI: Yes? WATCHER: They're your pixels to freeze off, I guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

JAI WOODARD for @cawthorntales's JAXON BC

NAME: Jai Woodard AGE: 23ish (young adult) HOME WORLD: Brindleton Bay OCCUPATION: Model TRAITS: Hot-Headed, Materialistic, Childish ASPIRATION: Party Animal LIKES: Cross-Stitch, Guitar, Fitness, Complains, Affection, Black, Flirtation, Gardening, Mixology, Compliments, Red, Physical Intimacy DISLIKES: Video Gaming, Violin, Malicious Interactions, Potty Humour, Arguments, Painting, Cooking, Paino

We all adored Jaxon in @akitasimblr's Mad About Dodo bachelor challenge - and now he has his own spin off! Jai is likely... not quite the contestant he deserves. But he is the contestant Jaxon has nonetheless.

Jai is not so much a bad person as he is self absorbed and immature. He was the stereotypical glasses wearing geeky kid until he was old enough to wear contacts, then puberty hit him with a banger. Once he realised that he could coast off his looks, it brought out some less ideal aspects of his character - and it doesn't exactly help that he's in an industry where his appearance is actually his work.

He's also an only child - and unfortunately with two professional parents who had more money than time for him - you can totally tell.

Will this experience help Jai to shed his superficial ways and bring out some hidden core of sweetness? We shall see.