#i feel like if it was unleashed they would have put a wolf or a moon or ice cream or a map

[sonknuxadow]

took a look in the notes of that last post out of curiosity and saw a few people mentioning sonic unleashed and as the resident sonic unleashed fan i dont understand how you could get sonic unleashed from any of those emoji combinations ?

[dottyistired]

The missing Journal 3 pages in TBOB are so interesting to me in further contextualizing Ford's mindset of shame regarding Bill. We'd gotten a snippet of it in the original J3 release:

But Bill shows us the less pragmatic motivations behind his actions, the mushy feely stuff he was too embarrassed to properly journal, putting certain series events into new context. Particularly this scene where after a whole episode of dancing around it, he finally opens up to Dipper about the nature of their relationship:

"Bill wasn't always my enemy, Dipper. I used to think he was my friend, long long ago..."

But does he really tell the full truth here? The cat's out of the bag, Dipper knows they had a deal, there's no reason not to tell everything. But Ford proceeds to explain his reasoning for summoning Bill as a purely practical, scientifically-driven one.

"I had hit a roadblock on my investigation of Gravity Falls. Until I found some mysterious writing in a cave. Ancient incantations about a being with answers. It warned me not to read them, but I was desperate."

Desperate...for what? Ford would have us believe it was for the sake of knowledge. Yet TBOB shows us that this is the entry immediately preceding his and Bill's first meeting.

Ford isn't some unfeeling robot powered solely by knowledge, he has human needs. He was lonely, lonely enough to summon a demon for companionship. A companionship so intimate, he describes his meeting Bill as the best day of his life, and laments the periods of absence from him.

That desire for intimacy is ultimately what drove him, and even with all his dirty laundry laid out he can't admit that part to Dipper. Maybe he doesn't even realize it himself, at least not until the post-Weirdmaggedon sections of TBOB:

Under the shame of unleashing Bill Cipher's destruction on the world, there's a much deeper shame: that Stanford Pines is not a lone-wolf, unfeeling sci-fi hero, but a fallible human being, capable of illogical sentimentality and longing for approval and (in)human connection. The exact nature of this sentimentality and longing is left to interpretation, but the efforts he goes to to conceal it make me lean towards something beyond platonic. Alex Hirsch's own words might support this:

"I think he is deeply, deeply hiding from his real feelings about things, because at some point early on, he decided that he could run from hurt by achievement and by creation, and has dug that hole so deep that he has no relationships. He doesn't have friendships, he doesn't have romantic relationships, he is someone trapped in a tower of his own mind and estranged. Ford shows none of that. He has sublimated himself romantically so, so deeply. (…) I really thought of Ford kind of like Tesla in that realm.”

TL;DR Ford is up in his feelings about Bill and repressing hard. This is also eerily reminiscent of the self-blame abuse survivors engage in, the hesitance to tell others, and shame over persisting feelings for their abuser.

[felassan]

New Details on DA4 from this IGN article: "Dragon Age: Dreadwolf Is Officially Being Renamed, With Gameplay Reveal Set for June 11 - EXCLUSIVE"

"BioWare confirmed that The Veilguard will feature seven playable party members, and that it will feature “fun and fluid, moment-to-moment combat” while continuing to center strategy via the unique powers of each companion.

BioWare general manager Gary McKay explains that while Solas is “still very much a part of the story of Dragon Age: The Veilguard,” the team wanted a title that reflected a “really deep and compelling group of companions.”

“One thing that’s important to remind fans is that every Dragon Age game is a new and different experience and this game, more so than ever, is about you and your companions – a group that you must rally to fight by your side,” McKay tells IGN. “We can’t wait for players to meet, connect and form their own personal relationships with the unique companions that make up The Veilguard. That’s the spirit of this game…of this story. Choosing who will join you on your adventure, fight alongside you, and be there by your side in the end.”

McKay claims that the name change wasn’t a matter of focus testing, which commonly informs decisions like these. He even goes so far as to admit that sticking with Dreadwolf might have been easier.

“We actually think sticking with Dreadwolf would have been the safer choice – ‘Dread Wolf’ is a cool name after all!” McKay says. “In the end, it was most important for us to have a title that was authentic to the companions that are the heart of this adventure we’ve created. We’ve worked throughout development to create really incredible backstories for each companion that intersect with the main narrative in meaningful ways.”

As for why it’s not simply named “Dragon Age IV,” McKay says it’s for the same reason that Dragon Age Inquisition wasn’t called “Dragon Age III: Inquisition.”

“Every game in the series tells its own unique story and the title is an important element to help set the stage for the next standalone adventure inclusive of its own hero, companions, narrative arc, villain, setting, etc,” he says.

Asked what it means for BioWare to finally be able to show The Veilguard to the world, McKay said, “As the studio head and executive producer, it’s been incredible to see the journey, resilience and passion that this team continues to bring every day. We have an incredible group of both BioWare and Dragon Age veterans who have been with us for years, as well as new faces and voices that love the series who have helped to create an unforgettable experience we feel will be worthy of the Dragon Age name.”

So who exactly are the Veilguard? In the lore, the Veil is a barrier between the physical world and Fade, which is Dragon Age’s spirit realm. Solas, who helped create the Veil, now wants to destroy it. Hence, as McKay puts it, “the Veil needs guarding.”

While acknowledging that the why and the how is definitely spoiler territory, McKay says, “The biggest clue I can share is that you and your companions – that make up The Veilguard – are central to taking down a new evil threat unleashed upon Thedas. It might not just be Solas.”

McKay isn’t quite ready to reveal the party members quite yet, but does provide some hints on what to expect, including some initial info on romances.

“We spent a lot of time making our companions feel authentic based on their own unique experiences within this larger fantasy world, which in turn makes the relationships you form with them feel even more meaningful. We’ve tapped into Dragon Age’s deep lore and explored its most iconic factions to bring each of the seven companions and their stories to life,” he says.

“I won’t spoil next week’s reveal but I can say we’ve created a story where you can impact the world and the companions that surround you. Player agency is important to the Dragon Age: The Veilguard experience and allows each player to form unique personal connections with their companions of choice. And, yes, you can romance the companions you want!”

McKay says the decision to pare the number of companions from nine to seven is mostly down to it being the “right number for the story we’re telling.” Each one is intended to represent a unique faction or element from Thedas, and will feature their own arc with “stories of love and loss, each with meaningful choices and emotional moments.”

He continues, “As you accompany your companions to unravel their backstory and earn their loyalty and friendship, you’ll visit more regions of Thedas across a deeper variety of biomes than any Dragon Age before it.”

McKay mostly sidesteps questions of how Inquisition’s characters might fit into The Veilguard’s story, though he does confirm that it will once again feature an original protagonist similar to The Warden, Hawke, and The Inquisitor, noting that each Dragon Game has its own standalone story with its own thread and conflict.

“Games across the Dragon Age franchise are never designed as a game-over-game continuous storyline. There are familiar arcs, factions and heroes important to the overarching Dragon Age universe that weave through the new story we’re telling,” he explains. “The previous games, characters and events aren’t the anchor of Dragon Age: The Veilguard it’s about your adventure with a brand new cast of companions that you must rally to fight against a powerful force.”

He once again teases another villain beyond Solas: “I don’t want to get too deep into spoiler territory but I can say that the Dread Wolf is not the only god players need to be worried about.”

When The Veilguard is finally revealed on June 11, BioWare’s presentation will include 15 minutes of gameplay from the opening moments of the game, which will help set up the story. On the gameplay front, McKay says that The Veilguard’s combat was a “big area of focus” and something the team wanted to push forward. Among other things, McKay says that The Veilguard will feature an ability wheel designed to give players more direct control over their characters.

“As an RPG, strategy in combat is important as you bring two companions to every fight. Each companion brings unique powers and abilities that have a direct impact on how you choose to take down the enemies at hand,” he says. “To add another layer to that strategic element, we’re introducing a new ability wheel where you can pause the action and set up your next move – whether it’s your companions’ abilities or your own.

“The ability wheel opens up a huge amount of strategic possibilities, giving players the ability to control the flow of combat and link powerful combinations of abilities between players and their companions that can quickly turn the tide of any battle. We think we’ve found an exciting balance between fun, fluidity and strategy for every encounter.”

“This is a game and experience that continues BioWare’s tradition of single player RPG storytelling set in the epic fantasy world of Thedas,” McKay says. “We know Dragon Age fans and the community have been waiting a long time for the next game and we could not be more excited to share our gameplay reveal on June 11.""

[source] (emphasis mine)

[danielgold-16]

The Bind

016 was walking in the cold, snowy mountains pass. In this part of the world, the earth was constantly shaking. Deeply buried under his feet, in dark cavern, it was said the dwarves still worked to produce the best weapons in the world.

He had already gathered the six materials required but needed the expertise of one to bind them together.

Weeks after weeks, he had been looking, but his provisions were wearing thin. He could have turned back, but he had to save his brother.

On the last day of the year, in almost complete darkness, he had finally found the entrance. He had visited other caves, but this one had a different vibe. And the ground around the entrance was clear of snow.

He stepped over the threshold and his lamp suddenly died. Regardless, he stepped into the darkness and started his descent into the earth.

The air was getting thicker, and it was becoming difficult to breathe. He got his gas mask out, one of the rare things left from home and put it on. His mind was transported back to joyful times playing with his brothers on and off the field.

*Clank*

He moved on.

*Clank*

The sound of a hammer on an anvil was getting louder.

The narrow passage opened on a huge cavern where 3 dwarves were working the purest form of gold.

One of them saw 016 and started speaking in a rough voice.

- “Ah Daniel, or should I say 016… We were waiting for you. We felt you collecting the materials. You understand that by binding them, we will unleash what it has kept prisoner for eons?

- I do, but my brother needs this bind to free him. Only by putting it around his wrist, will we be able to break the spell he’s under.”

A second dwarf spoke.

- “And what about the creature? What about Fenrir?

- Bind him to me. Let me become its host.

- It will slowly devour you until only the wolf survives. Are you really willing to pay that price?

- Anything for my brother.”

016 placed the materials on the stone table next to the anvil.

The sound of a cat's footfall, the beard of women, the roots of mountains, the sinews of the bear, the breath of the fish, and the spittle of the birds.

The dwarves picked up the materials and started working them.

Over hours, they forged them into the thinnest, purest band of gold. It appeared fragile, but nothing in the world could break it. Once in place, it would stay there, binding its wearer forever.

016 started to feel feverish. His teeth ached, and his head felt like it was splitting.

He took his gas mask off, and his eyes were the colour of the storms. Black and grey with gold thunderbolts constantly moving and changing.

The dwarves struck the last blow, and the deal was sealed. Gleipnir was reforged, and Fenrir had a new host.

They gave the band to 016, and in a flash, he was back in the gym, in the middle of his brothers.

He ran to 009 and, without saying anything, placed the band around his arm.

The band shrank until it was a perfect fit nothing could break or remove.

He had completed the mission he had embarked on months prior.

[herald-divine-hell]

My Theory on Veilguards' Dragons

This sort of popped up with my friend, @this-is-something-idk-what, when they suggested a theory about the dragons/possible archdemons in Veilguard's Release Trailer. I'm just going to put it here, though I will worn. I feel like I read elements of this in the past, so shout out to any original theorist, but also I'm not exactly the greatest at remembering the direct lore of Dragon Age, and I'm also just dumb.

- So This-is-something-idk-what mentioned a potential theory where the archdemons were the Evanuris or the blighted gods, which I do admit is a very interesting term of phrase for Solas to use. While I'm not particularly against it, I have a few problems with it (which isn't exactly mean to attack this-is-something-idk-what). For one, the only god mentioned to be particularly associated with dragons is actual Mythal herself. I don't think this is a later revionisist take on the Elves part, when they began to directly associate different creatures to their gods potentially after Arlathan's fall, like Ghilan'nain's sacred animal being a halla. We know that Mythal was associated with dragons, even during the times of the ancient elves - the final scene with Solas and Mythal is notable with their depiction of a wolf howling on one side of the eluvian, and a dragon bowing it's head on the other. The only Evanuris, that I am aware of and what the wiki mentions, that is associated with dragons is Mythal. (Though, oddly enough, Elgar'nan, the head of the Evanuris, is notably without a sacred animal, being only noted to be symbolized with fire, light, and lightning, though I could imagine Mythal and him may have shared some elements of draconic influence.)

What I think may have lead to the establishment of the archdemons is primarily because of Mythal. According to the Veilfire Runes in the Deep Road:

"Hail Mythal, adjudicator and savior! She has struck down the pillars of the earth and rendered their demesne unto the People! Praise her name forever!"

We know that Mythal had a hand in slaying some of the Titans, and that the Evanuris halted expeditions after they acquired significant portions of Deep Roads, as the Veilfire Runes codex mentions:

For a moment, the scent of blood fills the air, and there is a vivid image of green vines growing and enveloping a sphere of fire. The vision grows dark. An aeon seems to pass. Then the runes crackle, as if filled with an angry energy. A new vision appears: elves collapsing caverns, sealing the Deep Roads with stone and magic. Terror, heart-pounding, ice-cold, as the last of the spells is cast.

That codex also makes mention that:

"What the Evanuris in their greed could unleash would end us all. Let this place be forgotten. Let no one wake its anger. The People must rise before their false gods destroy them all."

Who is making this claim is not entirely known. It is entirely possible it's a follower of Solas, but the codex doesn't give us much to go off, so I digress.

However, what I think it is interesting is that it is very likely Mythal herself, as the Elves retreated from the Deep Roads, established the dragons as a sort of safe guard against a potential attack from either the Titans, or whatever could be found that could threaten them as the codex talks about. Could it be the Blight? I'm not entirely sure. Some people have suggested that the Blight was made from the Elves, but I can also possible see that it has another originator, the Forgotten Ones - whom is curiously absent in discussion from Solas or from the recent DA material. As for the dragons...who else would place dragons, creatures of flight, who take to the heavens, within the binds of the earth? The presence of the potential archdemons all seem to point toward Mythal, though entirely why she did so is up in the air.

But that's not what I'm really trying to discuss. What I think Veilguard is utilizing the possible archdemons as seen in the Release Date trailer is something that was rarely touched upon, or kinda forgotten, in the fandom (but again, it's been nearly ten years since Trespasser, so it makes sense and we could had talked about it back then).

Solas mentions in Trespasser, at his bewilderment that Corypheus could actually succeed in unlocking his foci:

"I did not foresee a Tevinter magister having learned the secret of effective immortality."

How do we see Corypheus remain immortal? By corrupting an high dragon into his vessel. What is curious is that Solas says "the secret", and not a secret, as if the true way to remain effective immortal is to bind your life-source with another entity, powerful enough to retain it. Of course, Solas does say the Elves were immortal, all of them, but I assume that they could die or be in a state of inability. What we find with Flemeth and Mythal may hint that, which I'm like 90% was talked about in past theories. Why else would he refer to it as "effective" rather than simply "the secret of immortality". Because you don't have to technically worry about dying, even if your body is destroyed. You can simply possess another body.

Which leads me to also believe that to secure Mythal's complete dissolution, the Evanuris went beyond just attempting to kill Mythal. They went on an effective purge. It is my theory, not entirely backed I believe by any real source in the lore, that the vallaslin of ancient Elvhenan were not simply just be slave-markers, but points of restoration when an immortal died, as we have seen Corypheus have done in the Temple of Mythal. Though it could be argued that it is done through his usage of the Taint, similar to the jumping of souls of the archdemon, I am not entirely sure. After all, would Corypheus even need to learn that through the foci? Why would Solas mention it as an the secret of effective immortality? Given Flemeth-Mythal's tendency to jump into the bodies of her daughters when their older body begins to wan, I think it is less a utilization of the Taint and more an Elven invention in which Corypheus adopted, thanks to Solas' foci.

The Purge of the Mythalites seem to be implied in the Temple of Mythal in the Unreadable Elven Writing:

She shook the radiance of the stars, divided them into grains of light, then stored them in a shaft of gold. Andruil, blood and force, save us from the time this weapon is thrown. Your people pray to You. Spare us the moment we become Your sacrifice." There is a brief image of an elaborate golden spear, glowing with unbearable heat. Then it fades.

The full poem comes from both Andruil's Gift and the Unreadable Elven Writing:

She took the gathering storm, trapped its fury in golden limbs, and strung it with the screams of the south wind. Andruil, blood and force, your people pray to you. Grant that your eye may not fall upon us. Spare us the moment we become Your prey. She shook the radiance of the stars, divided them into grains of light, then stored them in a shaft of gold. Andruil, blood and force, save us from the time this weapon is thrown. Your people pray to You. Spare us the moment we become Your sacrifice.

I think it is clear, to keep Mythal from accessing a readily available form through her own practitioner-slaves, the Evanuris ordered and acted toward the slaughtering of Mythal's people, leaving her unable to access the world in a meaningful way until Flemeth (and possibly, if it is to believe, but by God I hope it is not true, Andraste).

Such, what we do find in Veilguard with the dragons/possible archdemons is the usage of the effective immortality Solas mentions in Trespasser. And it is very possible that the Evanuris are blighted, in someway, relating specifically to the Blight.

But again, this is a theory - put together in a short amount of time, at 11pm-12am, and I think my first in-depth Dragon Age theory, so please be gentle. 🥺🥺🥺

[foreverrandomwritings]

Alliance Maker-Chapter 4

Summary: Some of the inner circle questions you about your life. Wounds that are still fresh get probed at. Many questions are still left unanswered.

Pairing: Slow burn! Azriel x Afab!Reader

Warnings: Hunting, death, torture, whipping... I think that's it, please let me know if there is more that I missed.

Word count: 1840 (Azriel isn't in this part but I promise that in the next chapter he will make an appearance.)

Masterlist Series Masterlist

You didn't have to wait long for the High Lady and High Lord. You had put on a pair of trousers and an oversized tunic that you had been informed was Azriels who was currently out on business. Cassian knew you would completely swim in his own so he had retrieved the slightly smaller one from his brother's room. The holes meant for wings left your back exposed. Your own wings had disappeared when you had gotten injured. 

You all sat around the dining room table. The tension in the air was like a heavy blanket. For some reason however you were calm. The scent coming off the shirt you were wearing was soothing you. They all stared at you for a while before you finally spoke up. 

“Young huntress, I'm glad to see you are doing so well! You’ve come a long way since your first day in the woods.” She looked at you with quizzical eyes. You gave her a mischievous smile in return. 

“I would occasionally watch you hunt when I got bored. Also wanted to make sure you weren’t going to do anything stupid enough to get yourself killed. You caught on mighty quick however.” The approval leaked out of your voice with your words as you gave her a gentle smile. 

“I had never realized you watched me.” She said to you with an uneasy waver in her voice. Rhysand picked up on the tone in her voice and gripped the arm of the chair he was in tightly. 

“It wasn’t very often since I’d mostly be helping my father around our house and shop. You also were never very good at watching out for other people. You were always too focused on the animals around you.” You said simply shrugging your shoulders in nonchalance. 

“Now onto the harder questions, who would like to go first?” You asked the group as your eyes flicked to each of them. 

“How are you a Fae?” Nesta asked first, it was the question she was desperately wanting to know. The question that had been eating away at her since she first found you. 

“I am cauldron made. The first one thrown in as a simple mortal and dumped out a gifted Fae.” You said as your thoughts drifted slightly to the feeling of being embraced by the cauldron. You were quick to snap back to the reality in front of you not liking to dwell on the past. Nesta gave you a look of understanding. But the group had looks of indifference. You being cauldron made did make the most sense. But on the other hand they also didn’t realize there had been someone changed before Elain. 

“How did you come across the wall?” Rhysand asked you voice full of apprehension as he still struggled to wrap his head around you. 

“There were about ten of Hyberns men scrounging through the woods. I had been hunting when they found me. I knew it was dangerous being so close to the wall but I’ve always liked a thrill. I really should’ve known better since Feyre went missing after killing that fae wolf Andras.” You nodded towards the female across from you. There was a look of surprise on their face at the mention of the male that had sacrificed his life for the good of his High Lord. 

“I tried to take them down but they poisoned me with something before I had the opportunity to unleash hell.” Your nose scrunched up at the memory of the disgusting smell the poison had given off. Everyone around the table had a look of understanding in their eyes.

“I killed three of them before it fully took over my body. Which was something I paid for later on.” The gashes along your back seemed to burn as though you had been getting whipped once again. You shifted ever so slightly in your seat, willing the unwanted feeling away. 

“You’re about the age for a female to be married over there so did you leave a husband behind?” You shook your head at Cassian's question, thankful for the change of subject. Even if the question was slightly misogynistic.  

“I was taken from my father and that was all. I have been trying to contact him since escaping.” The thought of not having seen your father in so long sinking in had your voice lowering. It was the longest you’d ever gone without speaking to or seeing him. 

“Where is he at?” Came from Feyre, your eyes connected to hers before focusing on the windows behind her. 

“I’m guessing he is somewhere over here. I went back to our home and there was no sign of him there. Then I heard whispers of the Fae that had come and saved them to give them solace over here. To save them from a disastrous fate. I’m hoping he is safe and that I’ll be able to see him again one day.” You missed your father so much your chest started to hurt as the hope filled your heart of finally being able to see him again. Finally being able to embrace him and hear him call you the beloved nickname he had bestowed upon you many years ago is all you had hoped for. But you had refused to find him until you were somewhere safe. Somewhere that you could call home and could build a life. 

“You had wings when we found you but now they are gone.” Cassian said it with an even yet curious tone. You smiled at that and thanked the cauldron for the open back chair and slits in the shirt you were in as you popped the wings back out. 

“The cauldron was very generous.” You stretched your wings out and let out a sigh of relief. The feeling of them stretching your back caused a soothing ache to run through your body. You also didn’t miss the look Rhysand and Feyre gave each other, the only ones that they knew of that grew wings on their own command were themselves. 

“Those are different from illyrian wings.” This time it was Emerie that spoke up. She was right they were more like the wings of a beast not seen for centuries before Rhysand was even born. They were black as night and pure cobalt blue, the wingspan larger than that of an Illyrian. They were slightly thicker than their wings and went farther down your back by about half a foot. The similarities were the five sharp spikes at the bottom of each wing and a singular sharp spike at the top of each end. 

“Yes yes. I’ve been told it’s likely because I have a different form waiting inside of me to be let out.” You drummed your fingers along the table as you thought about the first time the wings had shown up. It was after you had escaped and you were extremely grateful that they had shown up when they did. They did a splendid job of shielding you until you learned how to fly with them. 

“And who told you that?” Your eyes found the short yet powerful Fae at the table. Amren you’d take it from the description you’d previously been told. She had arrived with Rhysand and Feyre. 

“Helion.” The one name answer seemed to shock everyone around the table. Yet Amren simply narrowed her eyes at you. She was trying to find a reason to tell her High Lord and High Lady to send you back where you came from. 

“And how were you able to get a visit with him?” Rhysand was sitting up straighter in his chair. Helion wasn’t known for being malicious or blind eyed. But taking a visit with a stranger that belonged to no court seemed a bit far fetched. 

“I asked nicely.” The grin you gave him was purely feline and proud. Cassian snorted at the answer though causing you to send him a wink. 

“Why didn’t we see you while we were within the walls of Hybern?” Nesta asked the question lightly. She didn’t like thinking of the experience so she wasn’t sure how you’d react thinking about it. 

“I fought tooth and nail so you wouldn’t. I didn’t want you to see me as I was.” Your mouth grew dry as you finished your sentence. You looked down at the table and started scratching at a non-existent chip with your fingernail. A glass of water was placed next to your hand causing you to stop. You took it greatfully and gulped it down. When you looked back up there were many eyes looking at you that were full of pity. The High Lord went to open his mouth but you cut him off. 

“It is not a subject I would like to talk about. If you don’t mind, I would like for that to be the end of it.” Hands forming into fists you held his stare. He broke it when a hand laid upon his arm. He glanced to the side and Feyre was looking at him, they had a silent conversation before he turned back and nodded at you. 

“Please don’t try to enter my mind again either.” You had felt him trying while you were unconscious. Luckily your shields were still up while you were in your temporary coma. He kept his surprise and embarrassment off his face. Though you could see it in the way he flexed his hand and looked down at his shirt for lint that wasn’t there.

“You must be starving.” It was Feyre that broke the tension. Your stomach chose that moment to let out a large growl in reply. Then the house was setting down food in front of everyone. 

“Uhm?” You looked at the food and then up at Nesta. Then your mind snapped back to the water that you didn't hear anyone get up to give you. 

“The house is kind of sentient.” She gave you a bored look, the others had already started eating. 

“Thank you House.” You called out and in reply you got a plate of berry cobbler. Cassian then mumbled under his breath that he wanted some to but the house only answered with a glass of water. 

“How would you feel about coming to training in the morning?” Cassian’s question had you looking at him while picking up a fork to dig into your dinner.

“I would love to. I haven’t had anyone to train with in a while.” your mind went to your time spent in Dawn, training with the guard there many months ago. A smile graced your lips at the thought of being able to see Thesan and his lover again in the future. The group of you ate in mostly silence. They occasionally talked about the High Lord and High lady’s son Nyx. There was talk about Mor and Azriel. You went to bed that night wrapped in Azriel's shirt, the smell lulling you into your first nightmare-less dream since escaping Hyberns grasp.

A/N: The next chapter will get things cooking a bit. Thank you all so much for reading, likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated.

Tags(open): @theeleggymeggy @wolfsbane44 @moonlwghts @maddietheshoe @hyemishii @fanboyluvr @kmc1989 @acourtofinkandpapyrus @luvmoo

[hmslusitania]

Okay having now finished it twice, and having had the same thought both times, this is how I thought the Veilguard ending was gonna go, at least a little.

For the record up front, I am not upset about the ending, my response to finishing the game for a full playthrough the second time was to stay up too late on a work night making a third Rook, I have overwhelmingly positive feelings about this game, I just thought it could be interesting if…

✨ SPOILERS FOR THE ENTIRE LAST ACT OF VEILGUARD ✨

Seriously this will spoil everything from the eclipse onwards

Okay that aside

There are approximately nine members of the Veilguard right? Rook, Harding, Neve, Lucanis, Davrin, Emmrich, Taash, and Varric (and Assan and Manfred but they’re neither here nor there for this conversation).

There were also nine Evanuris.

And when you’re in the archon’s villa, the conversation becomes about how Solas, in putting up the Veil, had to anchor it to something and he chose the lives of the elven gods. Of whom there were seven by the time he was putting up the Veil.

And by the time you’re ready to make the last Jack and the Beanstalk climb up that blight tendril, there are… seven members of the Veilguard.

The seven Evanuris held within the veil and becoming the life force of it were:

Elgar’nan, the head of the Pantheon

Ghilan’nain, mother of Monsters and master of the blight (or mistress rather, insert Michelle Gomez’s evil witch laugh here)

Falon’din, friend to the Dead

Dirthamen, god of secrets who kept pet ravens/corvids, and taught the elves about loyalty and faith in family

Andruil, goddess of the hunt

June, god of craft

Sylaise, goddess of fire, ropes, and herb craft

And I thought to myself “gosh that lines up with the Veilguard way too well to be a coincidence and you’re saying the Veil needs to be anchored to *something* to keep it from unleashing danger everywhere? Needs to be… guarded?”

I thought what a sparkly ending that would be if the Veilguard became the literal incarnation of their name

But yeah, okay, there were nine Evanuris and I only listed seven so what about the other parts of this? Where does the parallel extend out past that main part?

Rook, Head of the Pantheon (Elgar’nan)

Davrin or Harding, the Great Protector (Mythal, murdered before it could all come to an end)

Harding or Davrin, goddess of the Hunt (Andruil)

Emmrich, friend to the Dead (Falon’din)

Lucanis, secrets and loyalty and faith in family (Dirthamen)

Taash, fire and ropes and herb craft (Sylaise, and I’ll admit that last association is because all their trinkets are herbs but also. All their trinkets are herbs?!)

Bellara or Neve, craftwork like eluvians and wards (June)

Neve or Bellara, mistress of the blight, the mortal who was raised up to the level of the gods themselves (Ghilan’nain)

Varric, the dread wolf because. Well. He was really Solas all along wasn’t he

So anyway. I thought they were gonna have to essentially become the life force holding the veil together because they were all direct parallels to the Evanuris and would like. Be permastuck in the Lighthouse as the physical anchor point.

But, like, they’re family now so they’d kind of be okay with that

And really, what’s a little apotheosis if it saves the world?

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Hello! Could you write some HCs about going on vacation with Fenrys? Thank you!!

Waterfall

It would feel so surreal. Like waking up with nothing to do, no need to quickly get dressed and rush out the door. It's a gift to every single one of you from Aelin. A little chance to just forget about everything for a bit and relax. Recharge. Finally have a chance to spend time with significant others or family.

You and Fenrys decide to go to one of the cabins in the mountains. The day starts early because the climb is quite long yet you two aren't bothered by it. There's no rush to get there. And it's so soothing. The morning is still young. Birds are singing their morning tunes. There's the sound of a waterfall somewhere in the distance. Morning sunshine rays are seeping through the trees. It's so peaceful so beautiful.

You don't use your fea speed nor does Fenrys shift into his wolf form. You two are strolling down the stone path hand in hand. Fenrys is softly rubbing his thumb over your palm. He's the one carrying the bag you two had packed because well fea males, and he refused to let you lift even a finger while at it.

"What do you want to do when we get there?", Fenrys breaks the silence after a while, pulling you closer to him. "I packed a couple of books that I've been dying to get to", you hum, the thrill of getting to do something without being distracted. Plus if Rowan wasn't making it all up there should be a swinging chair on the patio and that accompanied by a big throw when the evening gets colder sounded like an absolute dream.

"I was thinking about something more active ", Fenrys sighs, "Like what? We're already hiking to get there", you stated calmly. Fenrys wiggled his eyebrows before stepping in front of you. "Oh, you horny little shit", you roll your eyes at him, shaking your head. "I've been denied for a week", he nearly cries out, "It's harmful to my overall health", he wines as you can't help but laugh at him, "If two days equal a week in your book, we are living in different concepts of time", you gently tap him onto his shoulder before pushing past him.

You knew well that this time away would unleash the neediest parts of Fenrys. He had always loved physical touch. It reassured him. Grounded him. So when busier spells pulled you two apart he always grew uneasy. His anxiety spiked and he got more frustrated. But you loved giving him love and making sure that his needs for closeness were met. So having him pressed to your side or sleeping on your chest for more than half of the day was more than fine by you. It meant that he trusted you. That he felt safe in your presence.

You felt him behind you, just didn't expect him to swap you off your feet as he twirled you around. With a little yelp, you wrapped your arms around Fenry's neck. "Put me down", you wiggled in his arms but his hold on you only tightened. "No, you need to rest for a bit", he stated firmly. Fighting him was near to impossible so settled in his embrace for now.

Then that same waterfall came into view. The specs of water glistening in the warm sun. Fenrys stilled as you two admired the view. It's been so long since you two came out here. So long since you two were younglings running around the forest. So long since Fenrys had kissed you here for the very first time.

"Should we take a dip?", you ask and Fenrys quickly lowers you to the ground. It feels surreal that he is here. Free of Maeve. Free of all the burdens. No longer chained and broken. No. He's brought back to life. You gently kiss the side of his neck before your fingers move to undo the buttons of his shirt. Fenrys freezes for a moment but the warmth of you brings him right back.

You don't talk while you two carefully undress one another. Soft, feather-like kisses are placed all over the exposed skin. Until you're there both naked and you cup Fenrys's face as you bring him closer for a soft kiss.

"A race to the water like the good old days?", you ask and Fenrys lets out a snort. "You still think you can beat me at it?", he teases and you let yourself smirk. With a quick tap on his bum you, take off running. Squealing when you hear a growl leave Fenrys's lips as he too darts your way. You quickly look back, frowning when you don't see him behind you and then you feel the same little spank on your bum before Fenrys is darting in front of you, leaping into the jump. Water splashes everywhere as he hits it.

The sensation is like no other. The cold water makes the blood rush faster in your system and the silence stops the world for just a second before you're brought back to the surface. Fenrys is already swimming closer to you, grinning because once again he had beaten you to it. His arms sneak around your waist as he pulls you closer to him. "Give up trying, sweetie", he purrs and you roll your eyes, "In your dreams, sweetie", you mock his tone slightly before wrapping your arms around him.

Fenrys kisses the side of your head as he moves you to sit more comfortably in his embrace, one hand coming up to brush away the strands of wet hair away from your face, "I love you", he mutters and you turn to meet his eyes, "I love you too", you nuzzle your nose against his softly. "Thank you for being my forever", your eyes gloss over slightly as you crash your lips to his, breathing him in and knocking all oxygen away from Fenrys's lungs, "I would have clawed my way to you, wolf", "I know and that's why I love you".

[poorlittlegreenie13]

Hi, love Wretched Things so much and I was wondering if you’ll touch on the games of Shauna, Lottie and Van?

I kinda wanna see Shauna go full on butcher mode . For some reason, I think during the interview, she won’t open up and won’t have a lot of sponsors but her training score would prove otherwise. Ngl. I can see her butchering something during the test in front of the gamemakers.

For Lottie, I think she’ll be super awkward during the interview and her training score won’t be high.

For Van, I think she’d be a bit like Johanna at first, and then she’ll unleash her violence on the rest.

I just wanna know what you think because your mind is amazing.

Hi, thank you!!

If I revisited anybody’s games, it would probably be Shauna’s from Jackie’s perspective. I think Shauna & Van’s games are described a lot canonically in the fic, Lottie not so much. I also didn’t go into much detail about Taissa’s games which I wish I’d had a place for bc I love Tai.

Shauna charmed the Capitol during her interview & did actually get sponsors! It was the first time she’d ever really been out of Jackie’s shadow & in the fic she says she’s surprised people liked her. In the games, she started out not wanting to be violent, but didn’t put up with anybody messing with her so she did eventually get her nickname the butcher 💅🏼. & we know that Shauna canonically won because Natalie found a way to get a sponsor gift to her.

You’re spot on about Lottie, everybody definitely expected her to die first, but they underestimated how badly she wanted to live! Her visions allowed her to avoid danger & she ultimately had to fight her way to victory the old fashioned way even though she was terrified. But she also probably got some help from Jessica without knowing it bc the last thing Jessica wanted was for Lottie to die in that arena. That’s partially why Lottie has such an identity crisis bc she thought god was protecting her in the arena, but it was actually Capitol forces.

& Van’s games are also described in detail canonically! I can’t remember what chapter. But she was an unpopular tribute just bc she didn’t play along with the rituals of the games, and was painted as a villain on screen bc she was offensive & fought for herself. But despite the capitol’s best efforts to kill her in the arena, she kept surviving, making her (at that point) the only tribute to ever survive the wolf mutts. Winning the games was the only way for Van to make it out of her shitty life circumstances, and though it was obviously a terrible thing to live through, I think out of all the victors, Van probably feels the most triumphant/happy to have won. She’s definitely like Joanna in many ways! But I think Natalie is too.

I might write a bonus chapter of Van & Tai meeting after Van’s games, I’m not sure. But I think Taissa was so impressed with everything Van did to survive, she went & visited her in the hospital after Van got out of the arena & after that they played cat & mouse for a full year until they finally hooked up at the next games (Travis’s year!).

You can send in more asks if you want <3

[ragnarokhound]

AND AND AND a vampire letting himself get bitten is I know you do not feed like me, but I would be that for you if you needed it. I know how it feels to be on the other side and I’m giving it to you oughhh AND THE MUZZLE???! Who is it protecting, really? Tim from getting ravaged or Jason’s conscience? Is it ensuring that he doesn’t hurt anyone or that he doesn’t touch anyone but Tim? Getting to the point where Jason is so deep he can’t pretend he doesn’t want to. That’s when the muzzle can come off -🐺🦇

"I know you do not feed like me, but I would be that for you if you needed it. I know how it feels to be on the other side and I’m giving it to you" - *softly sobbing into my pillow over this T_T OTL

"Is it ensuring that he doesn’t hurt anyone or that he doesn’t touch anyone but Tim?" - AND I'M UTTERLY RABID ABOUT *THIS* to the point that uh. I put off responding to you because I had to write this:

---

“I still don’t think we need it,” Tim complains, turning the key in the lock. It clicks shut with a small snik.

Jason doesn’t budge an inch. 

“Sorry, princess,” he says, his breath puffing warm past the cool metal bars against Tim’s neck. “Them’s the breaks. We agreed: if you don't bite, then neither do I.”

Tim feels his face heat. He huffs, settling back on Jason’s thighs and leaning back into the arm Jason has around his waist. He presses the key into Jason’s chest for him to take. 

The muzzle is big on him, a loose cage of steel and leather; reinforced in certain places with silver. When the transformation takes him, he’ll grow to fit it— which, by the way, was not an easy measurement to get.

“That’s not strictly true,” he says, thinking about how he’d been forced to wrestle Jason down to the ground to wrap the measuring tape around his big furry head. He’d needed to use teeth to do it.

They’d both been bloody and sweaty by the end of it, and Tim was finding fur in places he didn’t want to dwell on for the next month. But at least it meant the wolf was in a playful mood for the rest of the night, and not a murderous one. Some nights it took longer than others to make that transition.

Jason raises an eyebrow. He puts a heavy palm over the key, trapping Tim’s hand against his heart. 

“Oh? Please, enlighten me.”

Tim scowls, and he knows he must be practically scarlet from the lazy smirk sharpening Jason’s mouth, the smug glint in his eye. He loves to see Tim turn red. 

“Quit it,” Tim scolds. “You know what always ends up happening. We go out, and then you get fussy, and what else am I supposed to do? You always goad me into biting you.”

It’s true, too. Tim thought Jason was bad enough outside the full moon, but that’s nothing compared to the unleashed desires of the wolf. Jason continues to look smug, and Tim narrows his eyes.

“Every. Single. Time,” Tim can’t help but tease, sinking the fingers of his other hand into the scruff at Jason’s nape and watching his eyelids flutter. “You can’t help yourself. You need it.” 

Jason growls low in his throat, hand flexing over Tim’s. The moon hasn’t risen yet, but Tim swears his teeth have gone sharp.

“Shall we reevaluate, then?” Jason asks, voice low. He knows exactly what he’s doing. “How about this. The muzzle stays on—”

Jason pushes Tim’s hand to his own chest, then slides his hand with slow intent to flutter at Tim’s hips, digging into the meat of his thigh and pulling him flush to Jason’s core. Tim watches his lips move, hypnotized,  “—until you take it off.”

Tim wraps his fist around the metal, feeling the weight of it in his palm and all it implies— and meets Jason’s dark gaze with his own.

[acourtofquestions]

A new day, and the final one (to put it dramatically cause I’m in the feels)

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 100 here I come… I’ll see you in some random spam mini posts (maybe — I’m mostly reading at this point non-stop lol) but there shall be some large posts after the Epilogue…

Mostly right now theories, thoughts, concerns😅: I’m pondering Aelin’s power; she hasn’t had it most of the series and doesn’t need it but we do have 1,000 Ironteeth + Maeve & Erawan on the way (currently my theory is she’s been storing her magic in Goldryn somehow and will be able to use it to unleash her power at an insane level… mostly because they keep mentioning the ruby looked like it’s sparking or her hands on it and it’s rare that SJM does that at this frequency without reason), plus Maeve is out of magic so she should be ready, & Dorian is fired up for his father against Erawan; maybe with Aelin combined they can do it. Or a classic Rowaelin Carranam. And I bet Essar can teach her the gifts in small ways.

I’m hoping Lys meets Falkan (my soul needs this). I need Gavriel & Aedion to makeup & get their oaths (Ren too), gotta get that LysAedion kiss (and no one better die). I need Dorian to go comfort Manon along with everyone else because they understand; Aelin, Elide… Terrasen’s children lost everyone. I need a Kingsflame bloomed and a coronation, I’d like to know who the heck killed Aelin’s parents and what does the damn owl mean! I want Aelin to meet Nox! I want Fleetfoot to meet Abraxos! I wanna know the Chaorene baby name😂 I want at least one scene of Empress Nesryn! Lady of the Ghost Leopards Lys! GIVE ME A MANORIAN “I LOVE YOU”. And wants/hopes that prob won’t happen but I’m saying it anyway: I know it probably won’t but I’d love if Elena got some sliver of peace. I want the white wolf and the wolf together, Aelin & Rhoe’s Shield + an Aedion reunion & an Evangeline/Fleetfoot/family hug, one moment of all of them together (again no one dies immediately after). AND THEY ALL DESERVE A SOFT EPILOGUE & future with long therapy filled lives! & a Rowaelin baby since they’ve both said they want a family together like that🥹

Mostly I’m worried over people dying… Sarah has proven that she will & can kill a lot of characters at once… I am in shock & grieving so… A little worried about about Dorian but I think he’ll be fine, a lot of worry about side characters: Murtaugh (for Ren), Ren (generally speaking which would suck cause I want to know him more), Kyllian (Aedion clearly loves him I don’t want to see that heartbreak), Ansel (because her people are gone and Manon is the Witch-Queen… I’d prefer an alliance, healing moment cause they both lost them all & maybe see if she’s got a thing going with Ilias cause the irony there👌😂👏). Hafiza (for Yrene; please don’t do another big sacrifice… I’ve already lost twelve today😭 the number is off… no…), oh and I’m pretty sure Darrow will die. Then the bigger ones: above all The Cadre have me concerned; Lorcan (cause him & Elide will always be running out of time), Fenrys (for Aelin or Lorcan), Gavriel (for his son). & otherwise: Aedion (he does not need to die for redemption Sarah DONT YOU DARE).

So, here we go… the first read of the ending of the books I’ve loved since February and will carry with me always… with a lil bit of sleep & the day complete with nothing but reading time: Beginning with Chapter 100: Aedion

P.S. I’ve got Crescent City; House of Earth & Blood on standby to read tonight (I need to pour my feelings in another book with the hope of maybe seeing Aelin again😭) I don’t care if it’s denial I don’t wanna know I just need it🤣

[inhurtandincomfort]

A Tale in Regret

This can certainly be read alone, but those who have read my other works may have a slightly better experience, by the end. There are connections to be made 👀 But as I said, it is a standalone so don't feel like you have to. Regardless, I hope you enjoy!

CW: Alcohol use, referenced alcohol abuse, referenced drug abuse, referenced overdose, referenced suicide attempt/suicidal thoughts.

Ancassius had his fair share of regrets. Who didn’t go through life without them? There was always something that should have been done differently, always a bad choice made. Always someone you couldn’t save. 

It was a cheerful night aboard the Crimson Rose. Mirthful lyrics were shouted more than sung, he could see the flickers of dancing shadows through his window. Though night had long fallen, their revelry showed no signs of stopping. Pungent smells from an extravagant feast wafted to his cabin, various spiced meats and fish lovingly prepared by Urag - the man had been a terror, yelling at anyone who dared enter his kitchen in the recent days, with one boy swearing he’d thrown a knife at him - but he seemed to relax with the others now, attempting to follow Moira in a clumsy jig above boisterous laughter. Not even the chill air could cease their joy on this seventh day of merriment. Ancassius had of course joined in, on previous days. Despite shadows looming ever closer as the week drew on, he couldn’t let his crew down entirely now, could he? He feasted, he drank, he sang shanties, listened to tales of home then exchanging some of his own, lighthearted anecdotes of life in a little country village, of a time his little sister brought home an injured wolf thinking it was a dog, or when the old farmer caught him and his friend in the hayloft one night and assumed they were up to, as he’d put it, ‘no good’. That had been embarrassing. They avoided each other for weeks after, his lecture fresh in their minds.

Tonight though, he found his bright heart eclipsed with tainted memories. Regret followed him like a lonely spirit, wailing whispers in the wind. Just as the Reapers moon thins the veil of life and death, this final day of festivities unleashes echoes of a time gone by. 

Piles of letters were strewn across his desk, some neatly scripted, others gracelessly scrawled in a drunken stupor. He’d stopped sending them after a year, given up hoping for a response.

He swirled his glass, dark wine threatening to spill over the edge. Was he celebrating this night? 

Ha. Maybe when the sea turns to stone. 

His door burst open with a crash, Reva standing there with a bottle of rum in one hand, eyes sparkling, her face flushed. “Captain!” She said breathlessly, her glossy hair sticking up in various places. “We’re missing you there! They're having a bonfire on the beach, come join us!"

Ancassius smiled thinly, “Not tonight, Reva. Go enjoy yourselves without me.” 

Her face fell, her eyes roaming over the scattered pages. “Is everything alright, Captain? It’s not like you to stay cooped up during a party.” 

“I suppose not.” He must have sounded gloomier than he thought, because Reva frowned, plopping herself down on a couch looking at him expectantly. 

When he didn’t say anything she raised an eyebrow. “Well?” 

“Well what?” 

“Elaborate. You’re clearly brooding over something, so get it out.” 

“I’m fine, really. It’s not that serious.” “But it’s still bothering you. Does that not warrant concern on its own?”

He snorted despite himself. “If only he knew you. Maybe things would have turned out differently.” 

She tilted her head. Well, he may as well tell her.  Maybe it would be good to let someone know.

“I had a friend-” 

“Still shocking.” 

“I thought you were trying to be empathetic?” 

“You said you were fine.” 

He fixed her with a flat look, to which she shrugged. “May I continue?” 

“You may.” 

He cleared his throat, going back to staring through his glass.“I had this friend. I mentioned him the other day - my only friend in the village. No one else wanted to talk to this sad kid from a foreign land. He was alone himself, although I think he preferred it that way. He took pity on me,” His lips quirked up, “But we grew close. Ma thought he was a bad influence at first, but she changed her tune. Maybe a little too late, though.” 

He downed his wine, immediately pouring another glass. “He went missing. Well, he ran away. Or was kicked out. I’m still not entirely sure. He came to me, the night he left to say goodbye. I was already setting up a job on a trade ship, and I begged him to come with me, but… He’d always done things his own way. Once his mind was made up, no one could change it.” He let out a quiet sigh, the gentle cry of a wistful heart. 

“We met again a few years later. It was like meeting a stranger. Obviously he changed, he was still a kid when he left. I mean…” He ran his hand through his hair. He shouldn’t go into too much detail. “He... fell into bad company. Dangerous company. He was doing drugs. Drinking, a lot. To cope,” He added pointedly, remembering his company. “I found myself constantly worrying over him, even as he aggressively pushed me away. I tried to help, I did, but how can you help someone who so fiercely refuses to accept it?” 

He took a deep breath, having to put his glass down so Reva wouldn’t see his shaking fist. “One day he- I-” Fuck, he’s never actually said this before. For all he’s lamented, wishing he could change the past, he’s never spoken about it to anyone. Images flooded to the forefront of his mind, things he would never unsee. “I found him lying there. He- I- I thought he was dead.” He choked, squeezing his eyes shut. He didn’t notice Reva sit up straight, her lax demeanour gone. “I carried him to the hospital. It felt like carrying a child. He almost died,” His voice cracked, falling into a whisper, “I sometimes wonder if it would be better if he had. You know he was so mad at me for saving him. To this day I still don’t know if it was an accident. He claims he doesn’t remember, but… He wanted to die, Reva. He wanted me to let him die.”

Reva listened intently, watching him with a serious expression on her face. She should be out there celebrating, having fun with everyone else. Instead she was here listening to him wallowing in his misery. He would have to make sure she did whatever she wanted on the New Year. 

“We got into a fight. We’d argue a lot, those days, but this was worse. I couldn’t do it anymore, I couldn’t watch him self-destruct any longer. I told him as much. I told him he needed to get his act together -that I would help, that I would always help, but he had to let me- or… Or I’d leave. I couldn’t just stand there and watch.” He laughed wetly, a weak sound filled with more bitterness than humour. “He told me he never wanted to see me again and to get the fuck out.” 

Her gaze roamed over the scattered letters. “Are these for him?” 

He picked one up, paper wrinkled, ink weeping. “I could never bring myself to throw them away. Stupid, isn’t it? I’m never going to send them. I’ve sent many, and never received a response. Hell, I don’t even know if he’s alive. So I gave up.”

“You haven’t given up hope though.”

“...No. I haven't."

“We could find him.” 

“I know. Part of me wants to.” 

“But you’re afraid.” 

He skimmed the blurry words, making out things like I’m sorry and see you. “Yeah,” He said softly. “Today was the last day I saw him. Four years ago. It’s also his birthday.” He looked out of his cabin window, watching the gentle waves lap under the starry night. It’s a beautiful world. As the ocean tips below the horizon, spanning many more miles than his eye can see, he knows one thing he doesn’t regret. He’s met so many wonderful people, experienced different cultures all over the world. Leaving home to follow his fathers footsteps was the best decision of his life, even though it hurt to leave his family behind. He only wished he hadn’t left his friend behind too. “I wonder what he’s doing now.”

A comforting hand placed on his shoulder. He hadn’t even noticed Reva standing beside him, wearing a look that held nothing but understanding. This was something he appreciated about her; she was open in her concerns, but never overbearing. She’d never coddle you, or tell you pretty words she couldn’t believe. She heard you, she understood you, and she would be there whilst you figured things out independently, on your own, but never alone. She knew there was nothing she could say, so she didn’t try. He understood though. Whatever burdens they carry, the regrets they may hold, his crew -his family- they would bear them all together. Whatever the future holds, whatever choices he makes for right or for wrong, he won’t have to go through it alone. In this world -this cruel, beautiful world- that’s all anyone can ask for. 

 .

.

.

.

.

Somewhere, deep underneath a city not so far away

It hurts. Everything hurts. Lights blinded him as they shone into his eyes. He felt like he’d been submerged in ice, he was so cold, he was always so cold. Loud voices chatted incoherently, every sound was piercing, painful. He whimpered, a hot hand tenderly stroking his hair with gentle whispers of it’ll be over soon and you did so well. He wanted to do well. His body ached, overcome by an emptiness that just felt so wrong, so unnatural. 

But he wanted to do well. A muted whine escaped his throat as the hand was taken away. They were so warm, he wanted to be warm, come back. He grasped clumsily at their clothes until strong arms wrapped around him, drawing him in close letting him share their heat. He would hate himself for it, if he knew. Never in his right mind would he act like this, like a child desperate for his parents' attention as he begged for affection from the ones who would take advantage. He wouldn’t know. He wouldn’t remember any of this. 

Just as he didn’t remember what day it was, a day that stirred regrets buried deep within his heart, threatening to claw their way to the surface. He didn’t remember who, exactly, he was clinging to like a cat seeking their owners' warmth. By the time his mind cleared, the solstice festivals will have given way to the New Year, and then too he would have no chance to lament. He would not waste time nurturing old resentments, grieving a life he once knew. He couldn’t let that hold him back. They wouldn’t allow it. The past is the past, and it does not do to dwell on what cannot be changed. He was used to being alone. That’s fine. He was better at being alone. 

For now, he leaned into their touch, relaxing into their chest, letting himself drift in and out of consciousness. So tired. So weak. It’s better this way, he thinks idly, before giving in to the darkness. It’s so much better this way.

If you enjoyed this please consider reblogging, it really helps the reach and allows others to enjoy it too! Comments too are especially appreciated. Whether you interact or not, I hope you liked it!

[atopvisenyashill]

What if asoiaf characters ended up in the world of Narnia? How would they react to the world, Aslan and Jadis?

Okay caveat i haven’t read narnia in a long time BUT all the magical characters are probably in their ELEMENT here I mean

Arya and Lucy would be besties anyway, so you know Arya is having the time of her life

Narnia is a place filled with magic and romanticism and happy endings (if sometimes with a bit of bitter laced with sweet, as the jump from childhood to adulthood always is) and I think all of that would appeal to Sansa on such a deep, fundamental level. When I tell you Sansa and Arya would have a blast!!!

Jon Snow magical girl who puts his entire arm into his prehistoric dinosaur wolf bestie's mouth for funsies would be hella excited about all the talking animals

BRAN STARK. PLS. NEED I SAY MORE HERE.

I think Robb would have a blast too and not just for magical animal reasons but him and Peter have that same "put upon eldest brother" vibe that I think Robb would thrive at being given the chance to really shine as a brother first and a king second

tbh i think the amount of prophecies might freak Dany and Theon out a bit actually - look me in the eyes and tell me Theon would not be tempted by Jadis the way Edmund is, lmao - but I think under some circumstances they could bounce back and have fun exploring the magic that exists there

I know saying Melisandre would like it here is a wild choice but I think the more fairy tale, straightforward morality would appeal to her a lot. Whether she gets obsessive about the wrong kind of magic is um, a different convo. I did make myself sad thinking about poor little slave Melisandre praying to some sort of divine power to save her and Aslan being the one to answer however so that's fun

Kind of along the same lines, in that Narnia often appeals to children who feel lost due to extreme upheaval, I think Missandei would crawl right through the wardrobe, see the lamppost, and just fall in love with the world around her. She's so smart and inquisitive and brave, I just think she'd be delighted. I think if Missandei and Dany went through together, they'd be alright <3

Actually now that I think about it, if Theon went through with the Starklings, he'd end up okay in the end too.

Kind of obsessed with the idea of little Lannister siblings all crawling through at some point or another. Cersei being unable to access the wardrobe, chalking it all up to a dream after she marries and all her dreams turn to ash. Jaime being unable to cope with having adult memories in the body of a teenager. Tyrion (shout out Peter Dinklage, hah) finding a world where his intelligence and wit is respected and growing increasingly dejected with his real life. Wow I made myself sad now.

DUNK AND EGG IN NARNIA. Egg just crawling through one day and Dunk is like now where The Fuck did this kid go and has to crouch his tall ass through that fucking wardrobe after Egg, and Egg is already running into the woods and playing in the snow and Dunk is grumbling after him. DUNK AND EGG ON A ROAD TRIP IN NARNIA. DUNK MEETING A CENTAUR. EGG BEING DISRESPECTFUL TO THE BEAVERS.

Personally I think it would be really funny if Euron came through and Peter takes one look at him and is like "alright fine give Lucy a weapon" and they unleash her on that blue lipped freak. Lucy with a gun >>>>>> Euron and his godhood magic btw

Also Quent. Poor little frog prince would love Narnia. (also, being like Fantasy Spanish with Caspian is kind of funny imo) (I can't remember if Caspian's country are also Fantasy Spaniards in the books or they just made Ben Barnes do that accent for funsies).

[thepaintedlady00]

Burden

Chapter 9 | Chapter 11

Chapter 10: Be Still, My Bleeding Heart

TW: ANGST!!! This chapter is literally just fucking angst! So buckle up y'all! Dark imagery, mentions of blood and slight body horror, character death (kinda), mentions of SA, mentions of child death (Orpheus), The Fates (fuck them bitches), Calliope's whole story is sad as hell, depression and of course I gotta leave y'all with a cliffie (I'm SORRY! I didn't know where to end this chapter so it would smoothly merge into chapter 11 so ya get what ya get 🤷‍♀️)

Matthew flew through the bare branches of the trees, looking around at the sea of dead in front of them. From up here, he could see the shadows that moved in the woods, skirting around them like frightened animals, yet lingering… watching like something other. It put him even more on edge. Dream hadn’t spoken much about this woman… Daunt… that he’d been searching for. He hadn’t said anything except the usual cold dismissal of the bird's questions. But now that they were here, and Matthew saw the dark world and had been pinned beneath the wolf’s paw, he could understand the dire nature of things.

Whoever she was, Daunt was important to Dream and to the wolf, hell, maybe even to the world. And whatever happened here meant that his boss was probably about to walk headfirst into a broken heart. Matthew swooped down to rejoin the two silent companions that walked through the snow. “So… uh… it’s a nice place you’ve got here.”

The wolf turned to glare at him with his good eye. “It was a place of beauty once. Green trees and endless fields of moss and tall grass. The singing of the trees as our lady passed them by.” He made a noise. “It is nothing more than a dead cage now.”

“I’m sorry,” Matthew said, cawing softly. “I can’t imagine what it must be like to lose something like that.”

“Do not be sorry,” Sirius looked back at Dream. “Just fix it.”

The thick blanket of snow did little to conceal the scorched trees and mask the smell of lingering smoke and sulfur. What had happened here? Why was she not the one to greet him with her companion? Dream feared the answers more than anything, yet his feet carried him forward toward the faint hum of life. The white wolf spoke little but was used to Daunt’s companions disliking him. This was different. In the short vision he’d seen of the creature before he regained his power and restored his realm, the wolf was healthy and appeared kinder. The beast he followed closely behind now was cold and detached, hardly even looking back to make sure he was keeping up through the ever-thickening snow.

Dark shapes and sharp hisses darted across the treeline randomly as Dream felt the ever-growing sensation of eyes watching them. “What manner of creatures are these?”

“I do not know,” the wolf admitted. “My lady once called them lost spirits.” Then, turning his head, that blue eye pierced him. “Though some, she said, were nightmares.”

Nightmares? Why would his nightmares have been here? “I did not send them if that is your concern.”

The wolf scoffed. “My first memory of this life was catching my lady's tears. She bore a deep sorrow… one forced on her by you. Of course, she never confirmed my theory, but it was obvious when we went to your precious Dreaming to offer aid. Her pain was far more palpable there.”

Regret brought Dream to a slower pace as he sighed, closing his eyes. He should have known that Daunt sought the comfort of the stone after his unkind words. At least she had not been alone all this time, though as Dream looked at the wolf, he couldn’t help but feel sad as the price for such had clearly taken its toll.

When, at last, he could feel a warm breeze against his skin and the sight of a great wall of twisted trees and thorns, Dream could hardly breathe. Matthew hopped on the ground beside him. “Are you sure about this? We have no idea what’s waiting for us on the other side.”

“Daunt will not harm us,” he assured his raven. A flash of her darkened anger unleashed upon The Corinthian replayed in his mind. “She came for me, and I swore to do the same.”

The white wolf pressed his frozen snout to the scorched bark of the trees, and with a groan and what sounded like pained whispers in a language he did not understand, the trees parted just enough for them to pass through. The flooded meadow was one he recognized in an instant. Her home had stood here, at the base of The Great Tree… the tree that was now gone. It fell before its time… This is what she’d spoken of. Cut to the bone. Crying out and bleeding, left to burrow. Left to rot. He looked at the blackened leaves and the bark, peeling away and covered in cuts and scars, but the roots caught his eyes and made his heart stop. The roots dug too deep.

Daunt lay in a bed of knarled tree limbs and a settling frost. The roots of The Great Tree snaked all around her, shifting with the squelching sound of blood following after. They were burrowed deep into her chest, splitting it open so deeply he could practically see her faintly beating heart. Matthew stopped in his movements and quietly cursed beneath his breath as the wolf pressed his head into the pale, limp hand that hung over the side of the crude bed.

He whined briefly before the blue of his eyes shifted to Dream. Then, sitting beside his master, the wolf spoke again, “You will bow in the presence of the Lady of The Forest. For it is the beating of her heart that has kept your realm safe all these years.”

“Daunt,” Dream breathed, and the whole meadow shifted.

*

You were weak, so very weak. Every inch of you was thin, little more than skin hanging off the bone. Blood pooled all around you, and the stench of it made you want to retreat further within the tree's roots as the pain that your life had become filled your lungs. Wheezing breaths forced from your chest echoed around you, but it was a voice… his voice that had called you back.

“Dream?” You called out weakly as you lifted your eyes to the dark figure standing beside you, looking down with tears in his eyes. "You came," you whispered, relief filling you as you cried.

Dream knelt before you, bowing his head sincerely; he answered, "You called."

"Has it truly been so long?" Your eyes took in the sight of him, not aged in appearance but different, visibly so in the way he spoke and carried himself but more in the way he looked at you. "Oh, how I have waited to see those eyes..." Your fingers brushed against his high cheekbones. "These lips." They were soft beneath your fingertips as you shook your head. "This face." More tears blurred your vision as you sobbed. “It’s been so very long… so long…”

"Forgive me,” he said gently. “I should have found you sooner… should have been here long ago." Dream raised his hand to gently hold your wrist, keeping it in place so he could kiss your hand.

"You are here now," you whispered. "That will have to be enough."

Dream kept his cheek to your hand as he spoke a weak and desperate demand, "Tell me how to stop this."

"Oh, Dream,” you shook your head and stroked his cheek. “You cannot stop this. Neither of us can now.”

His face twisted into an angry… desperate expression that only made this more difficult. Pain, old and new, rippled through you as the roots curled, piercing deeper into your heart and bringing the frozen world around you a wave of tremors. Your eyes shut, mind threatening to be pulled back to drown again in the realms connected to the roots. No, you thought, desperately trying to cling to his voice calling out your name. No, please… You couldn’t fight it, so you submitted, forcing the current that pulled you to drift to The Forest, where Dream knelt beside you. 

Standing at his side, you looked down at him, holding your limp hand and whispering quiet pleas at you to stay… to tell him how to fix this. “We are running out of time.”

He looked up, taking slight relief in the projected image of yourself… the self that hadn’t been so thin and frail looking. “Why is this happening?”

“The Great Tree was cut down,” You answered, looking over his shoulder at the decaying trunk. “Without it, this realm cannot be.”

“But you are still here,” he said. “You are the monarch of this realm. Should it not be your life that it is tied to?”

You shook your head. “I am not a monarch, no ruler, no god… No Endless. It is not I this realm was forged by, nor I that controlled it. The Forest is and was by the will of The Great Tree. And now…”

“Now it is gone.” Dream looked back down at your body. “Then why did you bind yourself to the roots? Why endanger your life?”

“To keep The Dreaming safe until you came back,” You whispered, tears stinging your eyes. “Hell would have used The Forest to break through to your realm… they would have taken all that you created and corrupted it.”

Dream’s chest rose quickly as anger filled his chest. “Hell?” He looked around at the scorched trees and thought about your companion's words. “Is that what happened here?”

Bowing your head, you sighed, “They marched shortly after The Corinthian cast me into the river. I was not fully healed… I could not fight them.”

“Daunt…” he took a step toward you. “I… I am sorry for all that I said to you that day…”

You closed the distance between you, gently pressing your hand to his lips to keep him from uttering more apologies. “I know.” You couldn’t help the way his eyes made you feel weightless, made you forget all about your own dying body beside you or the cold that bit your skin. “I was so angry for so long…” A cold breath curled in the space between you. “I’m not angry anymore.”

His lips pressed to your fingers. “I will spend forever trying to make amends for all the pain I’ve caused you. But, please… Just tell me how to save you.”

“You cannot.” Shaking your head, you lowered your hand. “This cannot be stopped. It should not be stopped.” Then, looking around you with a soft sigh, you smiled, “The Forest will fade into deep winter, the cold will spread through these roots, and everything known now will be gone. But then spring will be allowed to come… sunlight, rain, and life. All that was lost will be reborn, even me.”

He shook his head. “No… Even if you are, it will not be the same. It will not be you.”

“This is what I want, Morpheus…” His eyes softened at your use of his name. “It is what I spent so many long nights wishing for… to be different. To be born again as something better, something good. I do not want to live the rest of this long life as a mistake… as a burden.”

“You were never that,” he said, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Please…”

You lifted your hand and wiped them away. “I wish to be as I was meant to be. I can feel something greater waiting… but first, I must surrender this form. This may not have been my choice then, but it is now.”

Hurt shined brightly in his eyes as he asked, “Why did you call me here if not to save you?”

You turned to look down at the white wolf that desperately curled his head into your limp hand. “You cannot save me, but you can save him. He has given enough these long years… lost enough of himself trying to defend a land already lost. Take him with you… Let him live in The Dreaming or the Waking World in peace until I return. Will you do this for me?”

Bowing his head, you knew that he understood. “Of course, I will.”

You nodded your head and whispered to Dream, “Thank you.” Then you turned to Sirius. "I fear our time is up, little one."

The wolf's breathing shifted as he tore his eyes away from your body and glanced between you and Dream. "But… You… You said he would help us."

"He is." You knelt before him, tears in your eyes as you smiled. "You have to go with him."

"No… No…" Sirius pressed his head into your hands, matted fur filling your palms with warmth. "I cannot leave you. I will not."

"You must," you whispered. "When I am gone, all that remains here will die. I do not wish that for you, not ever."

"Death is better than living on without you!" He insisted, whining as his bright blue eye filled with tears. "I do not want to go…. I do not want to leave you. Please, my lady… Please, Daunt… do not make me leave you."

Pressing your head to his, you cried softly. "This is not goodbye. Simply until we meet again." You pulled back and smoothed his fur down, holding his face. "You will have to be very brave, my star."

His whining echoed in the glen. "May I stay with you… until the end?"

"Oh, Sirius, you'll stay with me far longer than that." Pressing a kiss to his snout, you sighed. "When I return, I will protect you, I promise."

You could feel Dreams' pain roil around him as you stood, looking down at your frail physical form. "I do not wish to die like this. Suffering… In this empty, forgotten place. May I trouble you with one last dream to lay me to sleep?" You asked quietly, looking up into the dark sorrow filled eyes of the Dream Lord. "Would you grant me that?"

He pulled his pouch of sand out from his coat and nodded. “I would grant you everything.”

“Thank you,” you said as he let the sand fall over your body, and your mind stopped drowning. You let yourself be tugged into his power and the warmth of the dream he gifted you.

The two of you stood on the pier in The Dreaming, misty water shining beneath the moonlight. Smiling, you looked up at him. “I remember this place. It has been so long since I’ve felt this.”

He remained sad as he looked down at you. “If you could go anywhere, where would it be?” Tears gathered in his eyes. “Tell me, and I shall make it so.”

“I would walk among the stars one last time,” you answered with tears of your own blurring your vision.

Dream stepped closer, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his dark chest. He kissed your head, and your eyes drifted shut, listening to the soft command that slipped past his lips, “Open your mind to me.”

When you opened them again, you let out a soft sob as the dream you’d shared so long ago surrounded you. Stars, endless shining stars, twinkled in the radiant cosmic clouds. The ground beneath your feet was a reflective mirror of ice, glowing dimly beneath the ethereal sky. It was just as beautiful as you remembered. Dream looked down at you, admiring the way your eyes lit up even as the weight of your fading life began to settle beneath your eyes. He committed you to memory… refusing to live even one moment without remembering how you laughed or the sound of you speaking his name.

Looking back at his mournful face, you touched his cheek, wiping away the tears. "This is not the end. It is a new beginning... Perhaps one for both of us. It is good."

"I will not see you again."

"Of course you will," you assured him. "You will see me, Dream of the Endless. You will see me in the mist over the water. You will see me in white clouds and in books with empty pages. You will see me in your precious dreamer's masterpieces." Then, stroking your hands down his star-filled coat, you closed your eyes, pressing your head into his cheek. "When I return, we will see one another again."

"It will not be the same you that stands before me now," he warned.

"Change is a part of life." You smiled, fingers running along his face. "You will also be different when we next meet."

"Daunt..." He shook his head. "All this time... All the years I was imprisoned, all I wanted was to see you again. And now that I have that..."

You pressed your fingers to his lips once again. “Hold onto those words, my Dream. Hold onto them and tell me when we meet again.”

He set his forehead against yours. “I will hold them forever if I must.”

You could feel your body growing weaker, and the slowing of your heartbeat as you leaned on Dream more urgently. “Kiss me, Morpheus. So I might remember the feel of your lips on mine and carry it with me to whatever life awaits me.”

The King of Dreams would not deny you anything. His lips pressed to yours, soft and tender and filled with the words you would not let either of you say. I love you. You held onto the feeling of him. The way he held you so carefully, as though you were more precious than any jewel. The way his kiss tasted of stars and happy dreams and love. You would not forget this feeling… not ever… not across a thousand lifetimes.

When you parted, the ice beneath your feet shifted to sparkling sand, and the heaviness of it pulled you deeper and deeper until even the stars were little more than falling sand. "This is not goodbye... Simply until we meet again."

*

Dream was pulled out of your mind the moment your heart stopped beating. Now he stood, staring down at your body, wishing that faint heartbeat was still echoing in the small meadow. Sirius lifted his head once he realized you were gone, and a pained howl tore through every tree in The Forest. For a moment, all he could do was stand there and look at you, but the frost and roots moved quickly. 

The roots pulled your body down, forcing Sirius from your lap, and burrowed deep into the earth as the water below turned to ice. He looked at the wolf, whining and desperately pacing, trying to find a way back to your side. “We must go now. Before the frost takes us.”

“She…” His voice was hoarse and full of pain. “I…”

Dream set a tentative hand on the wolf's head and sighed. “She will return. But until then, you must come with me where you will be safe.”

The blue, watery eye of the wolf looked up at him, and with a broken spirit, he nodded, following Dream and Matthew into the trees until they emerged back into Fiddler’s Green. He could practically feel how each step weighed down the creature's heart as they made their way to his palace, where Lucienne stood on the bridge, waiting with the white book in her hands.

“Sirius,” she whispered, full of joy, before looking up at her lord's tearful eyes and realizing what had happened. “She’s gone… truly?”

The wolf stopped walking, choking on heavy sobs as another howl, far more pained than before, ripped through the air of The Dreaming. Lucienne hurried forward, dropping the book at his feet and taking the creature into her arms, holding him tightly as she whispered soft, reassuring words. Daunt was gone… And now those who had known her, loved her, would have to go on.

Dream bent down to take the book, holding it in his hands to remind himself of the feel of her skin and the sound of her voice. Then, he continued walking toward the throne room, unable to linger in the pain the wolf radiated as his own was smothering enough. As he stroked the pages, one page loosened beneath his fingers, flittering out of its own accord and gliding to the marble floor at his feet. 

It was a picture of her. Painted in white against an emerald page, glittering with silver adornments and the words, her last words scrawled across the bottom. Until we meet again.

*

Calliope glared at the door. The pain, both physical and more, lingered in her… stained her being with anger and hatred, and desperation. She knelt on the floor and sighed, pressing her palms to the cool wood of her prison. “Gracious ladies, mother of the Camenae, hear my prayer…” Tears filled her eyes. “It is I, your daughter, Calliope, that calls you to deliver me from this place.” She exhaled a shaking breath and closed her eyes tightly. “Ladies of meditation, remembrance, and song, harken to me!”

The callous voice of The Crone filled the room. “All right.” What would have typically made Calliope feel patronized as the voices of The Fates mingled together now filled her with hope as the room around her hazed with visions of light… of home. “Enough, beautiful voice.”

Trees and an endless sky filled with white clouds brought tears to her eyes as the three figures stepped toward her. Their delicate white gowns flowed in the breeze that smelt of the sea and fig trees, and the echo of the mountains called her home… called her to where her heart longed to return more than anything. Calliope stumbled to her feet with a sharp breath of relief. The Mother spoke, voice strained with sorrow, “We feel your pain, daughter, but we cannot help you.”

Her hope and relief turned to bitter ash in her chest as The Maiden continued, “You were snared upon Helicon according to the Mysteries. You are lawfully bound.”

“But it is not just, my mothers.” She met each of their eyes, pleading with them through more than words. “Is there nothing you can do? No one who can intercede on my behalf?”

“There are few of the old powers who are willing or able to meddle in mortal affairs in these days, Calliope,” The Maiden answered, her darkened hair blowing in the breeze. 

The Mother shook her head. “Many gods have died, my daughter. Only The Endless never fade.”

“And even they have been having a difficult time of late.” The Crone laughed, moving around to gaze at herself in the mirror. “Still… every little bit helps as the old woman said when she pissed in the sea.”

The Mother sat on the bed where she’d been defiled and hummed. “The Endless. There’s a thought.” Her eyes drifted to The Crone. “After all, the Dream King and Calliope were close at one point.”

“Mmm, not for long.” The Maiden hummed. “And remember, sister self, they did not part on the best of terms.”

Calliope’s jaw clenched at the distant memories of Dream… of the hateful and vile words they’d left between them after… The Crone touched her lips with a long slender finger, holding her hand to the younger. “Still. She did bear his cub. That boy-child who went to Hades for his lady love and died in Thrace, torn apart for his sacrilege.” She closed her eyes, desperate to try and keep the tears from spilling at the mention of her son's death. “He had a beautiful voice too. Orpheus.” 

No. No, there had to be someone else… “The Dream King will never help me. Not after what I did to him.” She shook her head. “He hates me for that, and I despise him. I would not accept his help.”

“Foolish child,” The Mother scolded, standing from the bed and looking at her with dark eyes.

The Crone folded her arms over the golden bedpost. “Oneiros is in no position to help you even if he wished it, which is unlikely.”

“Like you,” The Maiden began. “Your former husband has been ensnared by mortals. He’s immured beneath the ground. “

“Leaving this realm gripped by sleeping sickness,” The Mother shook her head.

The Crone cast her eyes down. “And a plague of Dreams and Nightmares wreaking havoc.”

“I am sorry, little one,” The Mother said, voice soft as the breeze that filled the room as she turned and walked back into the vision from whence she came.

“No,” Calliope begged.

The Crone sighed, moving to follow her other self. “Your prayers were wasted. There’s nothing we can do for you.”

“Please.”

“And nothing you can do but hope,” The Maiden finished sparing her a sorrowed glance.

Calliope moved forward, desperate to hold to the vision of home, the breeze, the trees, and the mountains. “Please don’t leave me here!” It was gone. The hideous red wallpaper and the darkness filled the room again as Calliope stared at the wall. “I beg of you,” she whispered to herself.

There was no hope then… nothing she could do but suffer in this hell. The Endless would not help her. Not even Dream could… if he’d ever even consider it. Wait… she clung to a small hope filled with mist and black fur. Daunt. She was as close to an Endless as one could be, and she was Calliope’s friend… or at least she’d tried to be. How to summon her, though? Her realm was fickle, and Calliope was far from forests, trees, or mist. 

Across the street, the shadowed shape of a dog sat, black with glowing eyes. Pressing her hand to the pane of glass, Calliope held its burning stare. “Please… Return to your master. Tell her that Calliope calls to her for aid. Please…” Her eyes burned with tears. “Please, Daunt. Hear me.”

The dog turned away from her, fading into a cloud of dark smoke and embers, and Calliope waited. Days passed, and with each passing one, the hope she’d held that Daunt would answer dwindled into a tiny sliver of a thing. If Daunt would not answer her call, then she indeed was doomed. 

In the dead of night, mist filled the floor of her room, whispering in a dead tongue as frost crept along the red walls. Calliope stood from the bed, eyes wide and heart pounding. “Daunt?” She whispered.

Standing in the darkness of the room, she appeared, a white veil shielding her from Calliope’s view. “A desperate plea you send on the backs of memory. A memory now answers you.”

She didn’t sound like herself, at least not the being she’d once known in fleeting moments of friendship. “Daunt… I would not have called if it had not been my only choice. I am trapped here. Bound by law to remain in this cage of broken promises and defilement.”

“He is caged as well. Locked deep beneath the ground in a cage of glass and magic.” Daunt looked around the room. “Yet it is your cage that feels smaller.”

“Will you help me?” Calliope pleaded, taking a step toward the figure in white. “Will you go to the man that holds me and… intimidate him into letting me go?”

Cold seeped into Calliope’s bones the closer she got to Daunt. “He is beyond my reach, as are you… as are you all.” 

Red began to bleed through her veil, and Calliope felt her heart drop. “Daunt…” She lifted the thin fabric as quickly as possible, gasping in horror at the sight of her friend. Blood pooled at her chest, around the gaping hole that tore her open and revealed her faintly beating heart within her rib cage. “What has happened to you?”

Frozen tears littered her cheeks as she gazed upon the muse with motionless eyes. “We are not as we are meant to be. Stuck… frozen in this shattered visage. He’s coming. Coming to make us whole again.” Her eyes cleared slightly, turning darker like the ones she’d known so long ago. “Wait for his return. He will help you too.”

The mist rose from the floor, engulfing Daunt in its icy chill. “Daunt, wait!” She collapsed to her knees. “Please don’t leave me alone…”

*

It had been almost two years since Daunt and The Forest had passed, yet the weight of her absence was just as heavy as it had been that night. Dream poured himself into his work while Lucienne tended to the white wolf, which grew more depressed by the day. He’d taken to her quickly, holding onto the small piece of Daunt that Lucienne radiated. The two remained in the library most days. The wolf stayed beside the white book laying on pages with his lady’s likeness painted on them and soaking in the chill that radiated off the book or the faint noises one could hear if they were quiet enough. 

Soon, however, he left the library in favor of Cain and Abel’s garden. He’d intended to seek out Gregory, only to find the gargoyle gone as well. There he clung to the stunted pale plant that Daunt had left behind and slept beside Gregory’s old house until Cain and Abel took it upon themselves to make him his own. Sirius lay and waited with the book tucked safely beneath his little roof. He did not wish to run through The Dreaming. Did not wish to make small talk with the Dream Lord subjects or even listen to Lucienne read. He wanted to go home… a place that no longer existed without her.

“I understand the pain of her loss,” Dream said as he stood outside the small dog house. He’d come to check on the creature every few days, intending to fulfill his promise to her whether the beast liked it or not. And he did not.

Sirius growled at him, the blue of his eye growing as cold as the winter of The Forest. “You know nothing of my pain, Dream Lord. The Forest was all I knew… all I had that was mine, ours, and now it is gone, and so is she. All because of you.”

He sighed, slowly rising to his feet and folding his hands behind his back. “She would not wish for you to suffer so.”

“She is dead. She does not wish for anything.”

“Daunt will return,” he assured the creature. “She promised she would.”

“And when will that be?” He spat. “Another year? Perhaps a hundred?” Sirius’ bitterness turned to sorrow as he set his head back to the pages depicting Daunt’s face. “Leave me to rot. At least then, she and I will be together again.”

He could do little but grant the wolf's wish. Abel watched him closely and sighed, holding onto Goldie a little tighter. “It was good of you to try, my lord.”

Cain scoffed. “Leave the beast be. Who are we to dictate what it chooses to do with its life?”

“Daunt charged me with his care,” Dream told the brothers. “I will not have him wither away in my realm. Do what you can for him. Hopefully, with time he will find some measure of peace here.”

The two bowed their heads. “Of course, Lord Morpheus.”

“We’ll do all we can, my lord.”

As he walked back toward his palace, a voice filled the air, one he’d not heard for centuries… one he’d never thought he’d hear again. “I call to you, Oneiros, that you may hear me and come to my aid when I say your name out loud.”

“Calliope?” he whispered. 

The room was dark when Dream answered her call. The moonlight cast the red walls in a soft glow that only seemed to amplify the anguish and hopelessness that had consumed the room and the Muse trapped within it. She was more beautiful than he remembered, her face bathed in the soft silver glow, bringing a shine to her long brown hair and pale silk gown.

“You came.” She uttered, turning her head with absolute disbelief written on her face. She was so graceful and kind-toned, even trapped in the cage this Richard Madoc had locked her in. It was a stark contrast to how he’d last seen her.

Dream took a half step forward, the memory of Daunt’s voice whispering the same thing to him echoed around him as he replied, “You called.”

“They told me you had been imprisoned, just like me,” she said, moving away from the window to step closer. Her eyes never left his face as though she believed he'd leave her here if she looked away now.

“Not like you,” Dream said, his voice strained with pain. “My suffering was nothing compared to yours.”

“Don’t say that. Comparing our suffering only compounds it.” She insisted. Her kindness made Dream want to smile… made him want to embrace her. “It pained me to hear of your misfortune. I’m glad that you are free.”

A look passed over her face, sorrow and something else, as she looked at the locked door. “I know you do not hold the power to free me, only he can do that, but perhaps you might… inspire him to let me go?”

“I will do all that… and more.” The echoes of his darkness radiated through the room.

Calliope sighed. “Dream-”

“He must be punished.”

“How? What punishment could be enough?” She demanded, voice quivering. “Even his death would not bring back what he has taken from me. He’s nothing. He’s just a man.”

Dream’s anger only grew, engulfing even the space in shadows. “I cannot allow him to go free.”

“Why?” Because I was once yours?”

“Because he hurt you.” He drew in a deep breath, his eyes filled with glistening, repressed tears. His anger ebbed, and the painful echoes of their past washed over him like a cloud of mist. “The last time I saw you, you said you would never speak to me again.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I… I did not know where else to turn.”

“You misunderstand me. When I heard you call to me, even after all this time… I was relieved… hopeful…” He cut himself off. “Let me help you. Please. I owe you that much.”

“What will you do to him?”

The darkness in Morpheus’ eyes was enough to answer Calliope’s question. Richard Madoc would pay for his crimes against her. Dream would ensure it. He didn’t wait. When Richard Madoc returned home that morning, Dream was sitting at his desk, back straight and hands in his lap, waiting in a dark and cold rage. The talentless, spineless mortal was truly nothing. Their eyes met as he pulled the bag from his shoulder and dropped it. “What the f… Who the fuck are you? Get out of my house.”

“Be quiet.” He didn’t raise his voice, didn’t scream or shout, only spoke softly, which was enough not only to send a wave of power through Richard Maddoc but to still his lying tongue entirely. “You’re keeping a woman here against her will. I’ve come to request that you set her free.”

He scoffed, his body moving into a forced casual position. “Are you out of your mind? There’s no woman here. I’m calling the police. Do you know who I am?”

Dream nearly chuckled at the gall the mortal had. “I know precisely who and what you are, Richard Madoc.”

“Are you going to call the police?” He took great pleasure in watching the man shift from forced relaxation to pure fear.

“No, I will not call any human agency. Just let her go.”

Shaking his head, fear nearly spilled from his eyes as he spoke again, rambling words that Dream had no use for, “You don’t understand. I need her. If I didn’t have her, I wouldn’t be able to write, I wouldn’t have ideas. Look, I-I have money!”

“Hold your tongue.” He stood from the chair, slowly, deliberately dragging the movement out to prolong the horror in Richard Madocs eyes. “She has been held captive for more than sixty years. Demeaned, abused, defiled. And you will not set her free because you need ideas? Well… If it’s ideas you want, then you shall have them in abundance.”

The madness didn’t take long to set in the mortal's simple mind. Dream watched with a smile from across the steps of the lecture room. Richard focused on him, ideas spewing from his mouth like an uncontrollable river. Random and never-ending. It wouldn’t be long now.

Dream and Calliope stood in Richard Madoc's living room and watched the girl he’d sent to unlock the door leave the house. The simple gown she’d worn had turned into a long flowy dress, and her hair was now pulled back into an elegant crown of curls as she watched the front door close. She looked like herself again, the soft and tender-hearted muse he’d fallen in love with so long ago.

“It is over.” She said, voice hoarse with suppressed tears as she turned to Dream. “Thank you.”

“I merely answered your call. What will you do now?”

“I think what I must do is to try to make sure that this never happens to anyone else ever again,” she said, moving around the space almost nervously.

“How?”

“I do not know. By inspiring humanity to want better for themselves and each other. By rewriting the laws by which I was held. Laws that were written long ago and which my sisters and I had no say in.”

Dream couldn’t help the swell of pride that made his chest tighten and her determination and spirit. “I shall do the same in my realm.”

“You have changed, Oneiros. In the old days, you would have left me here to rot without turning a hair.” She shook her head. “It is one of the reasons why I called upon Daunt before you…”

His breath stuttered. “You called Daunt?”

Calliope nodded, a sad look causing her face to crease. “Yes. She answered, but she was… different. Ill.” Turning, she looked up at him and sighed. “You already know this, though, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he answered. “I was there when she…”

“She is dead then?”

“No. Just gone.”

With a nod, she smiled. “She will return. Of this, I have no doubt.”

Dream could only cling to that hope as well as he nodded, “Yes, she will.”

“Do you still hate me… for leaving you? For blaming you for what happened?” She whispered -

“No.” The mournful nature of his voice made her look back up at him. “I’ve learned much in recent times, and… No matter. I do not hate you.”

“I think you should release the mortal now. He has set me free. And without forgiveness, wounds will never heal.”

“You would forgive him for what he’s done?” Dream asked, curious more than upset.

“I will not forgive what he has done, but I must forgive the man. Not for him. For me. Will you free him?”

He nodded. “If that is what you wish, it shall be done.”

As the two walked toward the door, she paused as he led Calliope to her freedom. “May I visit you in the Dream Realm sometime?” She asked, looking away from him. “So that we may finally talk about our son… and grieve him properly?”

Orpheus… Their son haunted him still. Perhaps his death would always haunt him. “One day, perhaps, but…”

“I understand.” She tilted her head with a kind smile. “Daunt told me to wait for you. I am glad she was right.”

Tears swelled in his eyes at the mention of her… at the newfound realization that even as she lay weak and dying, Daunt never stopped believing in him. “She was wise even at her lowest point.”

“You’ve fallen in love with her,” Calliope stated.

“I-”

She shook her head, “Do not deny it. I am gladdened that you have found someone to fill the void left behind by so many others. The two of you were cut from similar cloth… I often wondered what kind of pair you’d make.”

Dream only wished they could have found out. “It was unexpected…”

“The best loves are. Thank you, Oneiros. I hope she returns to you quickly. And I… I will not forget this.” She looked up at him with tears in her eyes, and with a soft sigh, she pressed her forehead to his cheek. “Fare you well. Fortune be with you.”

“Goodbye, Calliope,” he said as she pulled away. The love he’d felt for her all those centuries ago lingered. It always would beneath the hatred and vile sting of past words. He hoped they could find some middle ground, some way to move toward something he now realized he always craved a friend. Hob Gadling was his first; perhaps Calliope could be another.

*

Sirius lay in the tiny house the brothers had built him, head resting upon the pages of the white book that smelt of mist and pine and moss. The pages held small paintings of her within them. Home. He whined softly; the empty space within him only grew as the years passed so far from home. Nothing this dream world could offer him would ever fill that space. It was reserved for home, for his lady. And while his time here hadn't been unpleasant, it wasn't the same… It wasn't where he wanted to be. Nowhere in this plain or any of the others would rid him of this pain.

A howl filled the air, echoing off the walls of his little hut and bringing his ears up. Sirius listened closer this time as more howls drifted on a mist-filled breeze to him. His heart pounded as he stood and began following the mist deep into the sparse trees that hid Cain and Abel’s homes from view. The ground shifted beneath his paws, green filling the spaces of mulch and autumn leaves until it was all he could see. Rich brown trunks filled every direction, and emerald leaves rustled in the mist as they moved, curling around him and washing through his hair to guide him forward.

Home.

Sirius saw silver wisps spring to life in the woods around him as he ran through the moss and the trees. Faint howls filled the empty air as wolves of mist, and glowing eyes of all colors ran beside him. He felt a kinship spark in his chest as each fell into step beside him.

The first had green eyes that matched the trees and the moss. She howled softly before weaving between the trunks and leaping into him, mist falling from his shoulders as the wolf faded away. Others followed after that until a pair of purple eyes caught his attention. This wolf looked like she was smiling as she let out a chuckling howl and dipped behind him, mist curling around his backside and swirling around for a moment. A few more merged until yellow eyes met his. He howled loudly, the sound shaking the blades of grass between them as he jumped high, fading to mist over Sirius’ head and forcing him to stop to shake it out of his eyes.

Up ahead, the mist settled, curling and making shapes in the glen, and there, through the mist, in a bed of white feathers and sparkling silver leaves was her… his lady. The simple white dress swayed as the heavier mist began to roll in through the trees. Sirius' paws dug deeper into the ground as a low whine echoed through the trees as his voice carried to the meadow where she and The Great Tree stood. "My lady…"

[ahamkara-apologist]

please hear me out. sagira comes back. and everyone comes together at the end of the story/raid to fuck up the Witness. and we get to see Osiris back to his peak as he unleashes hell with Saint

I appreciate how even tumblr agrees so much with bringing Sagira back that it sent your og ask (the one I'm answering rn) three times and your follow-up twice lmfao

But yeah if Cayde, (aka the guy whose death progressed the plot of the story more than he ever did when he was alive*) gets to come back, then I feel like Sagira should as well. I'm hesitant to think that we'll see her reuniting with Osiris- because I don't know if Osiris is gonna be in Final Shape when he was already in Lightfall- but I do really think that it's kinda a fucking shame that we never really got to see the full extent of Osiris's powers, given the fact that he was one of (if not the most) powerful Guardian who ever lived. Sure, we see his reflections and him popping a super in Curse of Osiris, but that's not even close to the shit he did in the lorebooks that I'd kill to see. And tbh, I'd love to see them reunite, reconcilliate over what happened, and then maybe have Osiris realize post-channeling her Light again that he really has found closure with losing it, sort of like driving past your childhood home and realizing that you've moved on for good. I also want Sagira herself to see that Osiris is okay, and that he's become more mellowed out (a teeny bit) now that he's living with Saint, allowed to do research on Strand, and has found fufillment in his job teaching Guardians on how to use it. They've been pair bonded for hundreds of years- thousands if you take into account the time distortion of the Infinate Forest- so it would be a massive wasted opportunity to not have Sagira as one of our guides, and for her to acknowledge how Osiris has grown without her. I think she'd be happy for him, even if the road to get there was hard and bittersweet.

As for the idea of bringing her back for good- it's kind of a mixed bag? I don't think that Cayde is gonna be undeaded at the end of Final Shape, so it probably wouldn't be the same for Sagira, and the arguments that people have about it undoing the whole purpose of their deaths certainly can apply there. (I also think that if Sagira was to ever be returned, it should be via the Young Wolf, Ikora, and Saint teaming up with the Sundial to do it once Mercury was returned, rather than through the Traveler itself.) But on the other hand, I think that Sagira differs slightly from Cayde in that bringing her back doesn't really undermine the impact that her absense had. For one, Cayde's death was a very fitting character beat for him; he always had a sad streak, buried grief from all he'd lost, so death wasn't something that was too jarring or terrible for him because he had lost loved ones presumably waiting for him on the other side (ex: his line 'I'm coming home, Ace'). It was also a fitting death, going out in a blaze of guns and glory, which I suspect is how he expected to die for a good long while- maybe even wanted. And his death was also a catalyst for a long chain of very undoable things to happen, the most prominent being the rise of Crow, and how he was shaped by Cayde's legacy. There is no going back from Cayde's death because of the sheer SIZE of the ripples it made.

(Personally, I think that Cayde being a ghost stuck in the Traveler Dimension doesn't exactly negate this at all, because if he's stuck in the dimension of what once-was in the Traveler, that still means Crow is needed to take his place as Hunter Vanguard- and there's a lot of potential there for Crow to meet him, come to peace with what Uldren did, and to gain the tutoring he needs in order to rise to that position. Cayde can pass on the mantle, endorse Crow to Ikora and Zavala so they don't feel guilty at giving his position to his once-murderer, and then his prescence in FS would be that last nick of closure needed to put him to rest. Which I think that he not only needs, but also wants.)

Sagira's death, on the other hand, was extremely in-character...and also extremely abrupt, and way more focused to a singular character- Osiris. It felt right that someone as stubborn and fiery and fiercely protective would have sacrificed herself to save him, and it was what allowed Savathun to posess him, but in terms of the death and the more widespread impact? Her death was abrupt, and the damage done by Savathun was reversable. Osiris himself was the one who suffered the most from her death (and Saint too, by virtue of being close to Osiris), but I'd argue that her death and its relation to him was less an earthquake chaining into a tsunami and closer to what Mara felt when Uldren died and was revived as Crow- a slap of cold water to the face. Osiris was stubborn, arrogant, entirely determined to save the whole universe by himself- and then his own actions lead to Sagira needing to sacrifice herself to save him, and he was suddenly forced to sit the fuck down and confront the sheer impossibility of his situation. He's mortal now. He's mortal, and he's vulnerable, and is now reliant on other people- so much so that it was Saint and Misraaks who saved his life, and barely. Before, he could just steamroll past all his limits and concerns- and he did- but now there are no second chances, and finally can see what that arrogance and high standards cost him. Sagira dying forced him not only to slow down, but also that he is no longer alone, and can rely on those he loves to solve the problems he used to try to take on by himself-problems far too big for only one man. It taught him how to process grief, and how to appreciate life instead of being so focused on the future that everything sped him by. And it taught him that not only was he no longer the exiled heretic warlock who did everything alone because he HAD to, but that he had a purpose beyond being a Guardian, and people other than Saint who valued and trusted him- people that he could trust in return.

Her death was the harshest lesson he'd ever been taught. Her death changed him. And that isn't something that can be undone, even if she returns and he becomes a full Lightbearer again. Truely, if she returns, it wouldn't have been for naught, because now Osiris has seen what happens when he Icarus dashes flies too close to the sun. It would just be an upgrade to the Osiris we have now, and might even soften him up further. Maybe. From super-hardass to hardass to medium-hardass, I suppose.

(And I really wanna see Ghost and her reunite, aaa. AND I want to see her meet Glint!! Just imagine the teasing that could happen if she met Glint)

Besides- Sagira is the ghost of the Phoenix. It would be fitting for her to return, and to potentially rise again. It wouldn't make sense for any ghost, but it would with her.

*Before anyone gets the wrong idea, I'm adding on a side note here that I don't think Cayde's prescence in Destiny pre-Forsaken was worthless, because it wasn't. He was a very beloved side character, and he did have his place in helping along other major storybeats, but it was BECAUSE he was the hypeman on the sides that his death became a major plot progressor. All that buildup of him being a steady constant was what cumulated in him dying being such a big bang. Sagira did the same, but the impact of her death was focused on Osiris rather than the Young Wolf

[mable-stitchpunk]

Do you think The Mimic is pure evil or just one very unfortunate bot? seen a pretty big group of people lately saying its just pure evil but I'm unsure if a learning AI can actually be pure evil, esp when you could potentially contain and correct its behavior and AI.

While I do hate what the Mimic is now and that its just a charmless Ennard, I do think the Mimic has a ton of potential especially if a redemption path is taken with it, its a learning AI, its not set to be what it is forever, and with the theory that Cassie survived as well as Roxy I think its a perfect set up for Mimic redemption.

The Mimic could watch the positive interactions between Roxy and Cassie and learn like its supposed to, while I don't see it being immediate the Mimic could go from hostile to just... not exactly nice but not murderous, harsh, cautious, curious. And personally if anyone was going to befriend the Mimic I do think it'd would be Cassie, she feels empathy even for scary things that chase her.

But I doubt this would ever happen, its taking away a big scary bad guy from the plot and not putting another one in, even if I think the new big bad should be whoever owns Fazbear Entertainment now, there is some super shady stuff going on there. I think unfortunately the Mimic may be doomed to always be a shallow Ennard, a big scary monster and nothing else, even if it shouldn't be.

I feel like, from what we've seen in the books and game (and ignoring the random inconsistencies through some of the interpretations, that Mimic is pretty much just an evil supervillain who is bad. Sort of like Eleanor except sometimes it strictly mimics and other times it's aware. If it's possessing Helpi when his eyes go yellow, then it also occasionally acts like some of the variations of novel William.

By which I mean, Mimic could be a complex villain, but I just don't see it happening. A lot of what it is was piecemeal from other characters and backstories, which already doesn't show much originality on its part. And looking at the characters who directly inspired it, Eleanor, I don't foresee Mimic to be anything more notable than Afton replacement.

There of course ARE a few routes they could've or could go that would make Mimic more interesting. Here's some ideas:

Have Mimic actually not a sentient creature but instead does just mimic everything. In that case, it could mimic someone like Cassie or Roxy and become friendly- only to risk becoming aggressive again if it gets the chance to lock onto another subject to mimic.

Have Mimic be Edwin's child and have his resulting aggression and switch into villainy triggered by what Edwin did to him. A sort of reverse-Henry scenario. Plus, maybe there can finally be some thematic repercussions for the abuse and trauma the haunted animatronics went through. The new villain being a victim.

(I don't personally like this idea, but in case you want a shocking twist) Maybe had the Mimic be Glamrock Freddy. Recontextualize Freddy's "when she brought me down here" and "I am not me" lines. While clearing out the basement, Vanny accidentally awakened the Mimic who then overtook Freddy's body. Mimic then became convinced he WAS Freddy. Of course, this would only be effective if it was set up and revealed in Security Breach. Even then, it would still be a twist for the sake of a twist.

Have Mimic actually be Ennard, lol. I don't know how he got there, but those wires could probably squirm into a random suit more easily than a random endoskeleton.

Have Mimic start mimicking Roxy and Cassie get control of it through its programmed bond, then have like an alternate Gregory/Freddy relationship except it's Cassie and this extremely aggressive endoskeleton that thinks it's Roxanne Wolf.

Of all the options, Mimic being a redeemable or an easily manipulated villain would certainly be more interesting than just bad because evil. Maybe even go a Fabrication Machine route somehow.

In 9, the Fabrication Machine unleashes a war against the humans and kills them all off. While in the movie the Scientist suggests this could be because the machine doesn't have a soul, in the Scientist's Journal it is shown that the machine was overworked creating war machines for the humans and that its resulting turn on them was likely triggered by that.

In my opinion though, I think it would've been cooler if it was The Blob luring her down there. The Blob, under the right circumstances, could be very terrifying. It is a monster, but imagine it luring a child with the voice of another... perhaps because it believes it's a child too.

A mat of wires comprised of numerous victims, numerous bodies, numerous voices. It may not have any souls left inside of it, maybe it does but they cannot distinguish themselves. All it knows is that it wants out and it cries out for help from a 'fellow child'.

But there's no helping it. It is simply too dangerous- because unlike Mimic, who can barely move faster than a light jog, who can be broken apart by an elevator door, who is destructible... You cannot destroy writhing wires. There's simply too much to take it out.

You may try to suffocate the voices of agony, but they will continue screaming from the depths until someone comes to find them.

I don't think Mimic ever had a chance to be that cool. 😔