#honor reigns supreme

[mrsmess]

Thank you.

[celepeace]

Someday I'm going to make another masterpost of monster capture games but that day has to wait until I've crossed another several games off my list

[andy-15-07]

Forbidden Bonds

masterlist ! pairing Feyd-Rautha x reader

SUMMARY : Y/n is Princess Irulan sister and she falls in love with Feyd Rautha

Dune Masterlist

In the opulent halls of the Imperial Palace on Kaitain, Princess Y/N, sister to Princess Irulan, found herself drawn to a figure that stood at the center of intrigue and danger—Feyd-Rautha, the enigmatic heir of House Harkonnen.

As the daughter of the Emperor, Y/N was accustomed to a life of privilege and duty, her every move dictated by the expectations of her royal lineage. But in the shadows of the palace corridors, she found herself yearning for something more—a taste of freedom, a glimpse of passion.

One fateful evening, as she attended a lavish gala in honor of her sister's betrothal to another nobleman, Y/N's eyes met Feyd-Rautha's across the crowded ballroom. There was an intensity in his gaze, a magnetism that drew her in like a moth to a flame.

Approaching him with cautious steps, Y/N found herself ensnared by the allure of his presence. "Feyd-Rautha," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "you are a mystery I am eager to unravel."

Feyd-Rautha, with his customary confidence, offered her a charming smile. "And you, Princess Y/N, are a vision of beauty that has captured my heart."

In the midst of the swirling dancers and whispered conversations, Y/N and Feyd-Rautha found themselves drawn into a dance unlike any other. Their movements were fluid, their gazes locked in a silent exchange that spoke volumes of the forbidden attraction that simmered between them.

As the music swelled and the world faded away, Y/N and Feyd-Rautha found themselves lost in each other's arms—a fleeting moment of freedom amidst the constraints of their respective worlds.

But their stolen moment of passion was not to last. As whispers of their clandestine encounter spread through the palace, Y/N's father, the Emperor, grew increasingly suspicious of her affections.

Confronted by her father's disapproval, Y/N was torn between duty and desire, between the expectations of her station and the longing of her heart. But in Feyd-Rautha's arms, she found a sanctuary—a refuge from the pressures of her royal lineage.

"I cannot deny the pull I feel toward you, Feyd-Rautha," Y/N confessed, her voice trembling with emotion. "But our love is forbidden, a flame that threatens to consume us both."

Feyd-Rautha's gaze held a mixture of determination and longing. "I would defy the entire galaxy for you, Y/N. Our love may be forbidden, but it is also undeniable."

As the palace walls closed in around them, Y/N and Feyd-Rautha made a pact to defy the constraints of their worlds—to carve out a future where their love could flourish, unburdened by the expectations of others.

But as they stole one last embrace beneath the moonlit sky, they knew that the path ahead would be fraught with challenges and sacrifices. For in a world where power and politics reigned supreme, their love was a delicate flower, threatened by the looming shadows of betrayal and deceit.

Yet, as they parted ways, their hearts intertwined in a bond that transcended the boundaries of their worlds. For in each other's arms, Y/N and Feyd-Rautha found a love that was worth fighting for—a love that would defy empires and endure for eternity.

[blasphemousclaw]

I’ve been seeing a lot of people argue that Radahn would never agree to Miquella’s plans because he loves the Golden Order and would never want to replace it… but I think there are some nuances about the current state of the Golden Order that call that assumption into question?

The first thing to know about Radahn is that he’s defined by his idealization of Godfrey and his reign as Elden Lord. His lion armor is an explicit tribute to him, and he tries to emulate the “Lord of the Battlefield’s” martial prowess and heroic, honorable nature. When looking at the iconography associated with Radahn, it is always directly tied to Godfrey alone.

But Godfrey isn’t here anymore, he was banished… and the current state of the Golden Order is now extremely culturally different than it had been under his rule. The crucible and those associated with it gradually became less and less accepted, and more and more “disdained as an impurity as civilization advanced.” Godfrey’s crucible knights used to be heroes, and it’s even implied that they were the very face of the colosseums’ ritual combat… the Ritual Sword Talisman is “patterned after swords used in ritual combat held to honor the Erdtree,” and it’s the exact same design as Crucible Knight Ordovis’s sword:

so there’s this connection between the colosseums under Godfrey’s reign and the crucible.

But, in the present day, both the crucible knights and the colosseums have fallen by the wayside: “In time, the strength shown by these knights, and even their appearance, was seen as chaotic and deserving of scorn,” and regarding ritual combat, “the practice had died out by the age of King Consort Radagon.”

We do in fact see these hallmarks of Godfrey’s reign in association with Radahn as well — from Freyja’s backstory, we know that Radahn first met her by watching her fight as a gladiator at the colosseum (probably the one in Caelid!). And there’s a boss fight at Redmane castle with a Crucible Knight and a (red-haired!) Leonine Misbegotten! It’s also worth nothing that Godfrey, his crucible knights, and Consort Radahn all share the same earth-stomp move! Another interesting point is that Godfrey is associated with lions (Beast-Regent Serosh), and of course Radahn wears lion armor inspired by this, but there is also a Lion Guardian enemy at Redmane castle that has horns:

the old crucible society of the Hornsent revered the horned lion above all…

and Radahn, the “Lord of the Battlefield’s lion,” gains horns after being resurrected in Mohg’s body… literally becoming a horned lion!

I think it means something that Radahn is associated again and again with these symbols of the OLD Golden Order and the crucible… the time when Godfrey ruled, the crucible still flourished, and glorious combat reigned supreme. Yes, Radahn is absolutely defined by nostalgia and trying to recapture the glory of an old age… but I think this is actually a reason for him to OPPOSE the current Order, because now all the things he loved and admired about it are GONE! Indeed, there’s no evidence that Radahn made any attempt to preserve the current Order during the Shattering, and Morgott considers him to be a “willful traitor” with the rest of his siblings!

Does this mean that I think Radahn planned to be where he is with Miquella at the end of the dlc? Not necessarily, and I personally am really skeptical that where he ended up was entirely of his own choosing… I just think that the logic of assuming Radahn would want to preserve the Order in its current state is flawed, because the differences between Godfrey’s reign and Radagon’s reign are quite significant!

[turtleblogatlast]

Something I love to think about is every iteration of Leo’s relationship with Splinter and how Splinter’s interests always define how a Leo presents himself.

I used to abide by the idea that a Leo will simply emulate his Splinter directly, and to an extent I still believe that to be the case, but moreso I think Leos have a tendency to mold themselves into what they believe is their Splinter’s ideal son - someone who embodies all the traits Splinter has explicitly shown to admire or value in a person.

Most of the time, they try to be a dutiful and honorable boy abiding by the full extent of ninjitsu teachings. Then you have Rise Splinter, who very much still has undeniable prowess in the art of fighting and being a ninja, but when it comes to how he shows his interests to his boys…one thing reigns supreme.

Acting. Shows. One liners. Flamboyance in the name of gaining an audience’s attention.

He showcases Lou Jitsu movies on repeat for the boys, passing down the morals and words from those movies to them with no small amount of pride. All while fully expecting them to respect these teachings.

So, of course, Rise Leo picks up on this. He’s a Leo, after all, as much a daddy’s boy as any other variation of him, only he clocked his father’s interests to be different than most others. He picks up on the art of showmanship, of keeping things to himself so as to be a more exciting twist later, of treating the world as a set to act in.

He’s an actor, not just because Splinter himself was one, but because Splinter likes acting and showed one particular actor (unknowingly to the boys, it was himself) as the pinnacle of all his teachings. As someone to value and admire. And even more than that - Splinter focuses on the character the actor is portraying rather than just the man himself.

And I think this is all even more interesting when taking the turtle tot short into consideration, because very, very briefly, just as with many times else throughout the series, we see how easily Rise Leo aligns with his other selves, seeming to pick up the sword easier than his brothers do their own weapons - after quoting Lou Jitsu of course. After emulating his idol - the person who his father seems to admire so much.

Point being, it’s so interesting to see how Leos tend to mold themselves in one particular way throughout every variation - that being, what their father is shown to value most in people.

[spinji]

The king reigns supreme, was there ever any doubt 💕

(and tododeku besties aww)

They're riding togetherrrrrr 🥹

Dabi placing above Enji is just funny as hell. Also! Not only has all of the villain trio finally gotten top 10 status, Dabi has ranked the highest out of all of them by a mile.

They're boyfriends, your honor.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[blueiscoool]

4,000-Year-Old Tomb of Egyptian Royal Physician Found in Saqqara

Teti Neb Fu, a high-ranking physician during Pharaoh Pepi II's reign, held titles like Chief Dentist, Priest of Serket, and Director of Medicinal Plants.

In the southern region of the Saqqara archaeological site, a joint French-Swiss archaeological team made an important discovery uncovering the mastaba tomb of the royal physician Teti Neb Fu from the Old Kingdom, according to a statement by the Egyptian Ministry of Tourism and Antiquities.

This tomb, unearthed in the southern region of the archaeological site of Saqqara, known to contain the tombs of high-ranking officials from the Egyptian Old Kingdom, shows that medicine and magic were once equally revered, and expertise in both earned a long-dead physician to the pharaohs a place of honor among the ancient world’s most esteemed.

Dating back over 4,000 years to the reign of King Pepi II, this important find features exquisite carvings and vibrant artwork, including a painted false door and elaborate scenes depicting funeral offerings.

The sarcophagus found inside the tomb was also inscribed with the name of its occupant and his titles, according to the post. Because of the burial location in Saqqara, researchers knew he was important, but Teti Neb Fu’s official titles named him as the chief palace physician.

Teti Neb Fu, who held prestigious titles such as Chief Palace Physician, Chief Dentist, and Director of Medicinal Plants, also had a unique role as a “Magician” of the Goddess Serket, specializing in the treatment of venomous bites.

Additionally, he was known as the “Great Physician of Teeth” and “Director of Medicinal Plants”, suggesting that he led research and practical applications in the fields of dentistry and the use of therapeutic herbs.

Even though it had been looted in the past, the mastaba still has many of its ornamental features. The director of the archaeological mission, Dr. Philippe Collombert, said the walls are decorated with remarkable reliefs and inscriptions, including a complex frieze that displays the owner’s name and titles.

Among the most remarkable elements is the red-painted ceiling, which is intended to resemble granite blocks, a material commonly found in imposing buildings. The titles and name of the doctor are also written in the middle of the ceiling. An additional noteworthy discovery within the mastaba is a stone sarcophagus, which has hieroglyphic decorations inside that offer more information about Teti Neb Fu and his accomplishments.

Mohamed Ismail Khaled, secretary-general of Egypt’s Supreme Council of Antiquities, emphasized the importance of this discovery, stating that the texts and drawings on the tomb’s walls unveil new insights into the daily life of the Old Kingdom.

This discovery strengthens Saqqara’s position as one of Egypt’s most important historical sites and contributes to its rich archaeological legacy.

Excavations in this area of Saqarra began in 2022, to unearth the graves of state employees for King Pepi who are buried near him and his wives, officials said.

By Oguz Buyukyildirim.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

One night at the Hotel, they're scrolling through HellFlix and Vaggie suddenly gasps.

Vaggie: NO FUCKING WAY! It's finally on here!

Charlie: What? You find a show you like?

Vaggie: Not just "like", this is the best show EVER! I've wanted to binge it with you for years!

Charlie: Oh, neat! So, what show is it? What's it about?

Vaggie: I got three words for you, babe. Xena. Warrior. Princess!

SHE WILL RULE IN HELL AT LAST! HER TV SHOW SHALL REIGN SUPREME IN THE HEARTS OF THE MOST DANGEROUS BEINGS IN HELL!!!!! there is just ONE worrying part to that though....

Charlie: "Wait, she kills the king of hell?"

Vaggie: "It's not a historically accurate show babe don't worry about it."

Charlie: "Still... now I'm picturing her murdering my dad. Not sure how to feel about it..."

Lucifer: (intensely eating popcorn behind them) "Well I'd feel GREAT about it!"

Charlie: "Wh- Dad!?"

Lucifer: "It would be an honor."

Charlie: "To be KILLED by her???"

Lucifer: "Of course! Look at her snarling war face! Look at her THIGHS-"

Charlie: "DAD!!!!!"

Vaggie: (sighing) "Wish I was king of hell so she'd murder me..."

Lucifer: "Poor Maggie." (pats her) "There there, maybe Xena- or Gabrielle might be better seeing as you've been cheering every time she comes on screen- maybe they'd agree to murder the princess consort of hell too?"

Vaggie: "I uhhhh- s-sir, me and Charlie, we're not-"

Lucifer: "Right yes of course! Future princess consort."

Vaggie: "Ffffffuture-?"

Charlie: "DAD HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT ABOUT XENA!? YOU ARE STILL MARRIED TO MOM!"

Lucifer: "Ohhh Char-Char.... Lilith would be FIRST in line for death at the hands of this warrior princess lady and her gal pal. Especially if they used those amazing thighs of theirs to-"

Vaggie: "Sir, please don't finish that sentence and ruin the best show in all creation for my girlfriend by adding more family trauma."

Lucifer: "Whoops! Gosh am I saying too much now? Oh golly, my bad my bad, ha ha ha!"

Charlie: "...."

Vaggie: "Sweetie? Wanna switch the show off for a while?"

Charlie: "....actually, Vaggie..."

Vaggie: "?"

Charlie: "... D'you think we could get a Xena costume in your size?"

Lucifer: (jaw drops)

Vaggie: "Hhhhh... I- yeah, probably? I mean.... this is hell, and her outfit is mostly leather, so...."

Charlie: "Would you wanna wearrrrr it~?"

Lucifer: (drops popcorn)

Vaggie: "Do you even have to ask?"

Charlie: "Mmmm heheh- but I like setting a good example, and you know I loooove it when people ask~"

-THUD-

Charlie: "ohshitballsdickfuck- DAD-"

Vaggie: "Hostia!" 

Lucifer: "IM FINE! AHAHAHA"

Charlie: "Dad- dad im so SORRY i forgot you were here-!"

Lucifer: "NO NO I HEARD NOTHING AND AM A-O-KAYYY!!!!"

Charlie: "You fell face first onto your own cane! You're BLEEDING!"

Lucifer: "Everything is fine! Once I've been sick into this bag of popcorn i will be extra specially FINE and our little impromptu family tv night together is going SO SPLENDEDLY WELL, isn't it Maggie!?"

Vaggie: "Ajo y agua..."

Charlie: "VAGGIE HELP- THE BLOOD??"

Vaggie: (sighing) (smiling) (standing up)

Vaggie: "...I'll go get the first aid kit."

-silly bonus-

Niffty: (from under couch) "I'll trade you the first aid kit for a vile of his bloooooood~~"

Charlie, Vaggie, Lucifer: (screaming and jumping on the couch and clinging to each other in terror)

Niffty: "Don't worry!" (giggles) "It's just for my Collection~"

Charlie, Vaggie, Lucifer: (screaming LOUDER)

[bruciemilf]

Bruharvey but Harvey desperately has to impress single parent Bruce Wayne's flock of protective kids.

OHH, I think both Harvey and Two Face acknowledge that, while Bruce loves all his children dearly and needs all of their blessings, they can be bribed one way or another;

Harvey's a whole mafioso that robs banks on the regular. He becomes the personification of " daddy's money."

Dick? All the gym equipment he can imagine.

Damian? Lifetime access to the Zoo + petting privileges.

Tim? His own coffee shop.

Cass doesn't ask for anything besides her dads happiness and safety, but Harvey buys her a ballet studio cause she's his princess

Duke? Again, doesn't ask for anything. " I'm frankly offended that you think my honor and love has a price, --"

" So you don't want your own Batmobile?"

"...Hold on. Let's talk."

But. That being said. There's one child whose word reigns supreme over everyone else's. The one lounged on Bruce's lap like an evil cat.

Jason.

He can't be bought; Or flattered. Or impressed. Or be reasoned with.

Let's face it, the guy who masterfully bended an entire criminal network on a rebellious whim has little reason to value your word over his.

Harvey tried everything. A library cropped straight out of beauty and the beast. A fully paid college tuition for creative writing and English literature. Sending Tim to Mexico.

Nothing.

"Well," Harvey looks at Alfred while downing his 4th glass of whiskey. Jason had just BIT HIM after he tried petting Bruce's hair, " If I made YOU like me, this should be nothing, right?"

Alfred looks at him as if he's a particularly stupid puppy.

"...You like me, right, Alfie?"

" You're breathing, aren't you?"

[pursuitseternal]

“𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖑 𝖍𝖆𝖙𝖍 𝖕𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖗 𝕿𝖔 𝖆𝖘𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖊 𝖆 𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖘𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖊:”

Ascended Astarion x Archdevil Supreme Raphael Explicit | 3.5 K

Happy birthday to the unparalleled @marimosalad, for you… your two pookies in power and in love 🎨🖌️ by them too. And 🩵 to @nyx-knox for her cheering and betaing

Summary: An arrangement for mutual power… no longer

CW: romantic fluff, two powerful men, pining/yearning, feelings confessions, anal sex

“Lovely place you have here, Devil. I must say, the eternal beggars are a nice touch. Homey. Especially the one with the chamber pot.” Lord Astarion giggles, dramatic, affected. Those scarlet eyes glimmering with roiling power. “I mean, when I tell people to ‘eat shit,’ I don’t mean it quite so literally.” His smirk broadens into something wicked and sadistic. “Good for you.”

Raphael sat at his desk in his boudoir, quill suspended midair in his grip. He didn’t need to look up to recognize that purring tenor or that refined, undead scent. He continued his writing, careful not to let the ink drip and make a mess. “To what do I owe the honor, Vampire?” he crooned, unbothered as he continued scribbling on the contract before him.

“Vampire Ascendant, devil,” the reply was clipped, Astarion reigning in his flash of a temper just before those brown eyes raised to observe him. “I am the one and only, and yet…” Astarion eased his stance, opting to lean against the side of a wingback chair instead of sitting in it, “the honor is all mine to be accepted into your glorious home here. One can’t always say they’ve met with a devil in his own home and lived to tell the tale.” He flashed that rakish, fanged smirk.

“You haven’t left yet, oh Vampire Ascendant,” Raphael’s mouth turned into a cockeyed grin. “Plenty of time for you to eat those words.”

Fingers picking at the threads of his ostentatiously embroidered jacket, Astarion took a heavy, dramatic sigh. “We both know you’re bluffing. We both know there is something you want that I could give you…” he raised his crimson eyes, their gaze roving down the Devil, lingering on the lines of his mortal form. “Perhaps more than one thing.”

“Speak plain, lest I cut out your churlish tongue,” he snapped back.

“The Crown,” Astarion replied. “You want it, I can give it to you.”

“You’d betray your own precious leader? The mortal that helped you ascend?” Skepticism twisted his tone, that dark amusement in his lilting his deep voice. “My, my, colour me surprised.”

“They’re nice, perhaps too nice. And they are short-sighted when it comes to their… ambitions. They think it will better serve another in our company on his own path to… ugh… healing.” The Vampire remained fixed in place, even as a storm of emotions danced across his expressive face. “But I am not one to pass up on an opportunity.”

Raphael leaned back in his seat, meticulously setting the quill down perfectly in line with the edge of his parchment. “Well… I’ll admit I wasn’t expecting such a gross betrayal within your ranks, but you know what they say…”

Astarion merely arched a silver brow.

“No good deed goes unpunished.”

With a deep chested giggle, Astarion pushed himself off the chair. “Indeed,” he replied, a rakish smirk on those refined features. “But given all that the hells has done for me, I figure a little quid pro quo is in order. Besides, I’d much rather make myself useful to another powerful being that understands the ways of the worlds in the same manner as I.”

Those crimson eyes locked into Raphael’s gaze as he continued. “I don’t need some bleeding heart creating a new god. I need… assurances of power, protection…” he paused to draw just up to the other side of the desk. “I need the promise of a little something extra powerful in exchange for something you hold dear, Devil.”

Raphael scoffed, leaning back in his seat and tilting his head. “I’m not interested in matters of the flesh, especially not of the undead variety. However, given the look in your eyes, I could offer you my Incubus…”

“My days of seeking those services are behind me,” Astarion fought the need to bristle, smoothing his tone as if to dangle the idea of his physical allure. “No, I want the secret of Hellfire from you in exchange for the crown.” He smirked, his fingers playing over the curve of his cane, those fingers dexterously teasing the gilded golden dragon that ornamented the handle. “Sex is nice, but power… protection… a way to keep my position as the Vampire Ascendant safe from any who would dare challenge me…”

His smirk twisted even more wickedly, noticing how the devil’s eyes followed his fingers briefly before drifting back to meet his gaze.

“I’d rather have power now than anything, even a horizontal dance with a devil.”

Raphael chuckled, shrugging before he snapped his fingers. Fire and smoke flashed between them; a new simple contract appearing midair. “Hellfire for the Crown is a deal I’d be a fool not to accept. I’ll even sweeten our bargain, Lord Astarion, giving you early access to my promised goods to help aid you in fulfilling yours.”

Astarion’s eyes widened, shocked at the generosity. “What’s the catch?” he snapped, eager eyes scanning the scanty few lines on the paper with a magistrate’s eye.

“No catch, nothing but the assurance that it will help you succeed in granting me what I desire…”

Steady handed, the vampire took the quill from the air and signed his name with a flourish. “Very well, Devil. I’m glad to see that our exchanges can come to mutual satisfaction.” He replied as the contract disappeared into thin air, leaving him facing the devil, those brown eyes roaming over his guest with searing appreciation.

“Indeed they do. Now run along, little vampling. I’ll be patiently waiting for word of your victories.”

Astarion gave a quick bow and headed for the door behind him.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Raphael’s voice called, sweetly and sing-song. He waited for that pale face to turn its sardonic grin back in his direction. “No one said the dances had to be exclusively… horizontal.”

Archdevil of Avernus. It even made the Vampire Ascendant grin as he stepped through the portal and into a great hall filled with mirrors. To his keen eye, not much had changed by way of appearances, though… the guest list seemed slightly more refined this time around. Other devils and infernal beings, a clear collection of mortal rulers watching with curious eyes at the display of decadence it was in the House of Hope.

A self-satisfied smirk twisted Lord Astarion’s lips as he recalled the last time he stood here. Halls still filled with debtors, those decrepit skeletal servants chattering about on their ancient bones. How much had changed since last he wandered these fearsome halls, since the day he handed Raphael the Crown of Karsus.

But today, he took a deep inhale, relishing in the revelry, drinking in the decadence. This soirée might have been for the Archdevil’s rise to power, and perhaps it was vain, but Astarion liked to think it was just as much his victory as well. And what a victory it was… the rush of power, the thrill of conquest, and the glory of ambition. The vampire gave himself a sly smile, knowing and craving those same things. After all, it was what he deserved after centuries at the hands of a master; he would have no other. None but himself. And at last, like in the true mirrored reflections he enjoyed so much, that lust for power reflected back at him in the face of this new Archdevil.

And it was… delicious.

No one else knew the obsession inside him, the need, second to none, to maintain control and to dominate. Only Raphael.

And, speaking of the Devil, Astarion laughed in his thoughts as he entered the great chamber of the House of Hope, he instantly felt those flame-flickered brown eyes lock on his entrance.

He entered, head held high, cane in his hand tapping along with his footfalls as he made his way, headlong into the fray of guests to approach the Archdevil. His gaze was searing, following every graceful movement Astarion made until he was right beside the Devil. He didn’t bow, didn’t fawn or bend low before the infernal creature. He just smirked, standing beside the arm of the Devil’s throne… and then he flicked his finger to ping the metal of the Crown of Karsus on his head.

The slightest metal click made those brown eyes squint as Raphael smiled up at the vampire. “You accepted my invitation to attend? A bit foolhardy but ambitious.”

“Me to a T,” Astarion chuckles, turning to scan the crowd from this vantage point. “I must admit,” he said, running a finger over the gilded top of the throne then down its side, “you’re the only other being I’ve met that makes power looks good.”

Raphael’s brows arched, brown eyes flicking up to meet those scarlet ones. “Aside from you, you mean?”

Astarion gave that rumbling low giggle. “Naturally, darling.” He gives a twirl of his hand, his cuff’s lace dancing in the air along with his wrist. “Aside from myself, I have never met another being so deserving of a crown.” He tilts his head; his kohl-rimmed eyes glinting at it covetously. “Perhaps I need one… a crown I mean.” He sighs, “It just looks so wonderfully elegant and powerful.”

Raphael stood, drawing to his full height, meeting the Ascendent right in the eyes, he gave a twisted smile. “Be sure to get your own, my vampling, unless you’d like to make a deal…” He lets the question hang in the air, the noises of revelry in full swing around them. Voices and music, it all fell to a hum as they locked eyes.

“Eh, a deal? I think my dealing days are quite done. I’m just happy to know I’m in the good graces of one as powerful as you,” he bows his head, flashing that charismatic, easy smile. “Besides, it’s a precious thing just to be on your good side, Devil.”

One final twist of his smirk and he made his way down to the throng of guests. Congratulations given, he was determined to sample a taste of the pleasures the hells had to offer. Reaching a table set lavishly with all manner of food and drink, he drew up short to feel that same searing heat standing behind him once more.

A tanned hand reached around his, grabbing a golden cup and offering it as Raphael slid to the side. “Allow me, Lord Astarion,” he crooned. “This vintage is perhaps best suited to your… most refined tastes.”

Astarion’s crimson eyes widened a moment, staring at the cup for the briefest of seconds before closing his pale hand around it. “I trust your recommendation, Devil.”

He lifted the cup to his full lips, the fragrant bouquet hitting his senses full bore. It went right to his head, or maybe that was the way those flame-flickering brown eyes seemed to drink him in as he lowered his cup.

“Is it to your liking, Astarion?” he asked, velvet tones caressing his name with something equally heady as the wine now in his belly. For a split second, the devil’s gaze watched as Astarion licked a drop of wine from the corner of his mouth.

Oh. No, couldn’t possibly… Astarion nodded once and smiled politely. “You give excellent recommendations on all things decadent. This party for one,” he scanned the lavish room. “Food and drink. Music and sex. So many indulgences in one place. Makes me realize I’ll have to step up my own soirées at the Crimson Palace if I’m going to keep my hedonistic reputation intact.” He snipped the consonants.

Raphael smiled, that swarthy face lifting as he grabbed his own cup, appeased and relaxed for once as he looked out on the fray. “Perhaps you’d deign to include me on your guest list? It’s been some time since I rubbed elbows with the undead elite.”

Astarion smirked to feel that devilish gaze back on him. “Oh, my darling, you mean me? Tch, I do suppose I am the elitest of them all now.” He took another drink of the wine, savoring the burn down his throat. Only to find Raphael a bit closer. Those corners of his dark eyes a little… softer.

“I do not make such offers lightly, Astarion,” the devil spoke, “nor do I pin hopes on wisps of nothing. You are unique, a mirror to my own ambitions and drives. You and I, we are cut from the same fabric of power, molded by the same sorts of trials, and seen by the ignorant as monsters.”

Astarion held his breath, watching those lips lift in a small half smile.

“But I know you are no monster any more than I am, and I… appreciate that connection.”

“Connection?” Astarion gave that rakish smirk, crimson eyes glinting with his swagger charm. Then he gave that flurry of giggles. “I knew devils like to toy with the truth, but this… tch.” He sucked his teeth, scolding just a bit. A sarcastic arch to his silver brow.

Raphael merely matched that easy, daring twist of a smirk, extending his hand and glancing his dark eyes towards the center of the room. “Care for a dance, Ascendant?”

Astarion’s eyes widened at the gallant gesture. “I… I suppose it would be rude to refuse,” he flashed that rakish grin, but something about it felt false. Too much of a show of detachment for the nagging feeling in his belly. A belly that no longer gnawed with a spawn’s hunger, largely thanks to the owner of the infernally hot hand that closed around his own.

For once, that now-beating heart in his chest lurched, pulled into the crowd of couples dancing. The music beat and swelled, but nothing was louder than that thump of his ascended heart and the way he seemed to breathe too loudly. Carefully, he schooled his face into that easy smile even as that other infernally hot hand pressed tentatively on his lower back.

He cleared his throat, turning his head to view the room. “You know…” he began, stopping short the moment he felt a pair of fiery warm lips on the arch of his neck. Just one little press right over his scars.

“Apologies,” Raphael rasped, feeling the tension in Astarion’s body. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. What is it I should know?”

Astarion, brows furrowed and full lips twitching, he looked into that swarthy, handsome devilish face. He expected sarcasm, a look meant to intimidate and ruffle feathers. But all he saw was curiosity and, if he was honest, hesitation. “No I was just…” his own silken voice stopped at the lump in his throat. His hand gripped into the top of the devil’s shoulder as he pulled him against his lips.

Warm. A hint of spice like cinnamon. The slightest purse against his own. That’s what Astarion felt the second their lips met.

A taste of power, a thrum of recognition. Astarion felt those warm hands on him grip just a bit firmer, pulling him slowly flush against the devil’s chest. Then that velvet voice whispered against his lips, “I’ve waited too long for a taste of you, of your own power.”

The vampire exhaled, intrigued by the taste of heat on the mouth against his own. “And, how does it taste?” he purred in reply.

Raphael’s lips twisted in a smirk, throwing back a word he’d so often heard the Ascendant use: “Delicious.”

The moment a lull had fallen on the festivities, that warm hand into the vampire’s grip once more. “Follow me, Ascendant,” he murmured in that pointed ear. Soon the crowd dispersed the further into his House they went. Heads held high, hands held tightly, they smiled with confidence, nodding to those few straggling guests who sought to congratulate the new Archdevil Supreme… or who recognized the Vampire Ascendant, royalty of the undead. Unspoken, they both began to tread just a bit faster once that shimmering door to his boudoir came into sight.

Entering, the rushing of the rejuvenating bath seemed to fade into the distance as their lips met again, this time in hunger and aching need. Neither even acknowledge the whines and pouts of the incubus that paced deeper in, knowing best to let their master attend to his own affairs.

Raphael’s body reached its limit, a blazing inferno beneath this mortal veil as he pulled Astarion against his chest and pulled him towards that decadent and sprawling bed. Those burning lips parted, barely withdrawing from that fanged and hungry mouth as he rasped, “Astarion, I would very much like to share with you my appreciation… for your power, and for… your very being, one that mirrors my own.” He kept those flickering brown eyes closed, holding his breath tightly in his chest as he waited, as he made his offer with no strings nor contract attached. And it made his heart pound in his damned chest.

“Yes, devil,” the reply passed between his parted lips with that deliciously rakish giggle. “If you insist on worshiping me, how could I say no…”

His hands worked quickly to disrobe the vampire, letting that tailored suit of silks and golden thread fall to the floor to uncover the real luxury beneath. Skin pale and pearlescent, muscles etched and carved with strength, it even made his ancient heart stutter with lust and desire. He recalled seeing so many years ago already it seemed, on the road to Baldur’s Gate when this whole thing began. He felt him purr, lips twitching as they locked eyes again.

Smooth nimble fingers followed suit as Astarion pulled apart that elegant jacket to expose the chest of a man who was so, so much more. Trails and patches of dark patches of hair lined his body, and Astarion couldn't help but touch them, curious and aroused at the sensation so different from his own smooth flesh. He’d had mortal men before, of course, but none so sculpted and godlike… or perhaps not so devilishly handsome. He laughed at his own humorous thoughts only to feel a knuckle under his chin, lifting his face.

Raphael smiled at him. “Something funny, Ascendant?” he murmured, dark eyes watching those plush lips part to speak.

“The contrary,” his smile turned soft at the corner, hands winding around the heat of his back to pull him flush, to lose himself in that searing embrace. “I find myself very serious about you… how I, too, feel for you.”

Clothing shed, the bed caught them both as they tumbled into it. That dark skin and bristled hair was a crush of muscle, the devil carefully lowering himself on the pale elf, breathing rough and ragging into that fanged kiss. Arousals pressed together, and devilish hands clawed and gripped hard into that perfect swell of an ass beneath him. “So handsome, so powerful, a reflection equal to my own…” Raphael growled into his mouth, hips pressing and grinding into the vampire, slowly.

“Hells,” Astarion gasped, reaching between them to grip their cocks together and tighter, a bit more relief with the friction. Then he panted a laugh, “The irony… of that curse is not… lost on me.” His silken voice broke with each gasping breath he made.

“I’d rather hear my name cried from your lips,” he murmured, teasing his finger into that tight ring of the vampire’s ass. His laughter is slow, lazy and gentle for once, fingers suddenly coated in oil as if summoned from thin air…

“Neat trick,” Astarion purred, rocking his hips, lifting his ass for ease. “You’ll teach it to me… hgnf…” his voice broke as he was skillfully stretched open.

“That and more are yours, Astarion, when you’re by my side.” There was so much weight to his tone, so many asks and emotions implied, even as he pressed his cock at the vampire’s entrance.

Devils were vain, proud… and Astarion recognized the hesitation and vulnerability masked behind the words.

For they mirrored his own.

Nevertheless, a single, “Yes,” slipped from the Ascendant’s smirking mouth. Twisted lips parting in ecstasy the moment he felt hot, warm, and so full.

Foreheads pressed against one another—their breath a wash of warm and hot. Skin slid on skin—one dark and swarthy atop one pale and undead. For two such powerful beings, they drove one another to the brink.

Their voices huffed and panted, whimpered and growled until hot seed filled his insides, and Astarion’s own cum coated the rises of his belly.

Never, he thought, never was it so chivalrous with anyone, never had he felt so seen and desired by one so powerful and pleasing in shape. His mind awash with bliss, his vision filled with only those dark eyes set deep in that regal face, and Astarion actually felt his heart beat. Not just out of the magic of his rite or from the necessity of his new, glorious, undead life. No, this was an unsteady flutter… young and ruddy and uncontrollable.

A sensation he had long thought impossible. He pursed his lips, pressing them one last time for a kiss, clinging to the moment, to the feeling of seeing himself in the mirrored shine of those dark eyes.

As their lips broke one more time, that rich baritone voice crooned down at him, Raphael’s hot palm cupping his cheek. “Stay, Ascendant. Stay with me.”

“Yes, Devil,” he purred softly in reply, “my darling.”

@marimosalad I wouldn’t be doing this at all or still or this much without them. My tadpole sister, my constant collaborator. I am beyond lucky and blessed to call you bestie. 🩵🩸

[1989taylorsversion]

1989 Vault reigns supreme I've heard enough your honor COURT DISMISSED!!!!!!

[damian-lil-babybat]

Boy Wonder #5 by Juni Ba

I tell you, I gasped! (Talia is so bamf. They are a family, your honor. I love them, dearly, your honor!)

Me, a lowly fanartist, who drew baby Talia and baby Damian, am singing joy to my heart.

Spoiler below:

I want. I want. I want. The mystic martial world that the al Ghul reign supreme. A family of non-magic wielders that defies the customs of old, because their magic is learned, stolen, and hoarded...and not innate, nor gifted to them! For close to a millenia, the underworld of crime...have an underside for the myths and the legends..and the al Ghuls are protector of that! Not just endangered species, but also of fantastical and mystical beasts.

It gave them a more niche place which just fits the al Ghuls perfectly!

The Robin Movement being alive and kicking makes me so happy. Gotham as a community is so fun and lovely too. I teared up on this issue. Also added the group photo for prosperity.

Hope to see another series of this, but just this made me happy already 🤞

[artifacts-archive]

Tetradrachm (Coin) Depicting the God Zeus

Greek, Reign of Phillip II (359–336 BCE)

The official record of quadrennial games honoring the supreme Greek god Zeus at a sanctuary dedicated to him at Olympia began in 776 BCE. With few interruptions, they took place every four years for about 1,100 years. In 394, CE the Christian emperor Theodosius I (reigned 379–95) abolished them as pagan rites. The most prestigious competition remained the footrace, but eventually it was supplanted in popularity by the horse races. Horses were symbols of socioeconomic status, since only the privileged could afford to buy, feed, and train them and transport their teams and trainers to Olympia every four years. In time, many of the victors in the horse races included kings and tyrants. Philip II, king of Macedon, who minted this coin, owned the horse that won the race in Olympia in 356 BCE. The same year his son was born; he would grow up to become Alexander the Great (356–332 BCE). The head of Zeus on the front referred to Philip’s claim that his family descended from the god. On the back Philip commemorated his victory in the horse races of the Olympic Games with an image of a jockey astride his mount.

[sorcererofsolitude]

Ever since Wednesday solved the mystery of her stalker, she'd begun to get stir-crazy. Her mind craved a new project, something to channel her wits and rage into.

Bianca made the mistake of introducing Wednesday to Minecraft, taking advantage of her begrudging but ever-advancing embrace of modern technology.

She created a monster.

Wednesday's main world consisted of a painstakingly constructed city meant to torture villagers with the simulated monotony of a 9-5 office job in an urban dystopia, of which she was the supreme ruler.

Her home was a large turreted castle in the ice biome with a sprawling back yard for her over 100 pet polar bears.

Everything in her castle is either black, white, or grey, save for the pink potted tulip she kept near her bed in honor of a certain someone.

Saturday was game night on the Nevermore Minecraft server. It devolved into chaos ever since Wednesday joined.

Gone were the days of peaceful cooperation. Not on her watch. Instead, Wednesday had taken to ruthlessly hunting other players and using TNT to blow their structures to the shit house.

Bianca: God dammit, Wednesday! Stop griefing my iron farm!

Wednesday: Your rebellion is at an end. The means of production will be seized, and you'll all be sent to work in the mines.

Ajax: You can't just rule over the server!

Wednesday, smirking darkly: I am your god now.

Enid, sighing: ...Wednesday? What the fuck are you doing?

Wednesday: Ah, Enid! Come join me in my conquest, I will make you queen of these lands.

Enid: Care to explain why I got a text from Bianca saying I need to 'reign in my tiny terror'?

Wednesday: ...political pressure.

AO3: SorcererOfSolitude

[areiavenus]

xaire hestia eldest of the olympian gods, first born to glorious cronus and lovely rhea, she who brings warmth, familiarity, and comfort, we honor and venerate your name on this day and everyday, may you guide us towards the solace found in your presence, in the fires that burn below the heavens where the immortal gods reign supreme and zeus who delights in thunder takes counsel <3 lil prayer for hestia today!

[blackbacchus999]

Nyx's Veil 🌌🍹

Embrace the profound darkness and the mysterious allure of the goddess Nyx with the Nyx's Veil cocktail. Crafted as a devotional act to the primordial goddess of the night, this drink captures the essence of her in every sip. Each ingredient is chosen to honor her power and beauty, making this a perfect offering to prepare at midnight, the hour when Nyx reigns supreme.

Ingredients and Their Connection to Nyx:

1 1/2 oz Gin: Gin represents clarity amidst the darkness, a nod to Nyx's role as the mother of Aether (Brightness) and Hemera (Day). It symbolizes the balance between night and day, light and shadow.

1 oz Blackberry Liqueur: The deep, dark hue of blackberry liqueur reflects the inky blackness of the night sky that Nyx envelops the world in. The liqueur's rich, slightly sweet flavor mirrors the hidden depths and mysteries that she embodies.

1 oz Lemon Juice: Lemon juice adds a sharp, tart contrast to the drink, representing the sharpness and precision with which Nyx controls the night. It also honors her as a protector, with citrus symbolizing purification and protection from unseen forces.

1/2 oz Blue Curaçao: The vibrant blue of curaçao evokes the twilight sky as it fades into night. Its color and subtle bitterness are a tribute to the dusk that heralds Nyx's arrival each evening, as she cloaks the world in darkness.

Edible Black Glitter: The black glitter sprinkled on top is a reflection of the stars that Nyx scatters across the night sky. It’s a reminder of the cosmic beauty she creates, even in the deepest of shadows.

Candied Moon Slice: The candied moon slice represents the lunar cycle, which Nyx governs alongside her daughter, Selene, the goddess of the moon. It’s a sweet homage to her influence over the celestial bodies.

Instructions:

Mix: In a shaker, combine the gin, blackberry liqueur, and lemon juice with ice. Shake well, channeling your devotion to Nyx with each movement.

Strain: Strain the mixture into a glass, visualizing the dark liquid as the night sky forming under Nyx's command.

Layer: Carefully layer the blue curaçao on top, representing the transition from day to night as Nyx’s veil of darkness takes over.

Sprinkle: Add a sprinkle of edible black glitter to give the drink a touch of celestial magic, like stars twinkling in the night.

Garnish: Finish with a candied moon slice for a lunar tribute, acknowledging Nyx’s connection to the moon and the night.

Ritual: Prepare Nyx’s Veil at the stroke of midnight, the hour when Nyx’s power is at its peak. As you sip, reflect on the mysteries of the night and offer your thoughts to the goddess in gratitude. This act of devotion not only honors Nyx but also connects you to the timeless power she wields over the night.