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First day as a gentleman’s gentleman: Hadn’t been expecting the agency to call me back so quickly with a placement, so I arrived at the address not quite my best self. Luckily my potential employer is either absentminded or doesn’t believe in locking his door, so I didn’t have to ring the doorbell.
Slipped into the kitchen and had just mixed myself a hangover cure when an awkward man in hideous pajamas staggered out of the bedroom and stared at me in confusion. I handed him the hangover cure without thinking and then squirmed internally as I watched him drink it, awaiting the explosion of rage.
To my surprise he thanked me, said it was just what he’d needed, and asked me when I could start as his manservant.
Second day as a gentleman’s gentleman: Didn’t get a chance to unpack my things before my new and still-vague gentleman told me we were going to visit someone in the country. Packed my gentleman’s things for a stay of indefinite length and he drove us to an estate full of people all of whom seem to be caught up in various intrigues.
Shortly after our arrival, I overheard one of my gentleman’s friends (or possibly a cousin?) complaining to him at length that he is madly in love with a young lady who remains completely indifferent. Took the liberty of asking whether he’d ever actually tried speaking to the object of his affections, and he grabbed my hand, shook it as if trying to wrench it off, and tore out of the room like a cat with its tail on fire.
Third day as a gentleman’s gentleman: I’ve made a terrible mistake. My gentleman’s friend-or-cousin spoke to the girl and found out he can’t stand her, actually; but she somehow read his initial ardour and its sudden withdrawal as evidence of a mercurial and passionate nature and is now obsessed with him.
Also it turns out she has a jealous suitor who is now constantly trying to provoke my gentleman’s friend-or-cousin to pistols at dawn or something. Romance Girl is having the time of her life, but I’m worried somebody’s going to get killed—I only hope it’s not my gentleman, who seems to have the self-preservation skills of a kitten in a creeping barrage. In the twenty-four hours since our arrival he’s already managed to pick up and then mislay a Dresden shepherdess beloved of his great-aunt, who controls his allowance and therefore my wages. He also interrupted a clandestine rendezvous between two other houseguests, one a celebrated alienist and the other a Member of Parliament.
He still thinks they were searching for the shepherdess.
Fourth day as a gentleman’s gentleman: Friend-or-Cousin has mysteriously vanished, along with his suitcase. Word in the servants’ hall is that the Jealous Suitor’s temper boiled over late last evening and he was heard to utter threats.
With his flight, Friend-or-Cousin has drawn the blame for the loss of the still-missing Dresden shepherdess, which is good news for my gentleman, bad news for Friend-or-Cousin; the more so since his alleged thievery has further inflamed Romance Girl. Not my problem.
The alienist and the M.P. were conspicuously avoiding each other at the breakfast table.
Fifth day as a gentleman’s gentleman: That damn shepherdess was on the breakfast-room mantelpiece the whole time. She was just hidden behind the Foo dog whose mate was broken ten years back but who can’t be moved because they were a present from General Sir Somebody Somebody.
Friend-or-Cousin’s whereabouts still unknown, but on behalf of my gentleman, who was adorably concerned, I’ve sent a telegram to his London club to let him know he need no longer fear-- Romance Girl has switched her focus to the local vicar. I feel bad for him, but I also believe he could easily take Jealous Suitor in a boxing match if necessary.
Sixth day as a gentleman’s gentleman: Visit to the country concluded happily-- the alienist and the M.P. have somehow patched up relations between my gentleman and his great-aunt, already softened up by the rediscovery of her shepherdess. I’m pretty sure they’re trying to curry favour with my gentleman because they think he might stoop to blackmail (Note to self—keep that up sleeve in case of future emergencies).
Realized when we got back to our flat that my gentleman’s mauve tie is still somewhere back in Shropshire.
To Hell with it.
If he asks, I’ll say the colour didn’t suit him.
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first day as a early-third-century general and my lame loser of a liege lord has just suffered an overwhelming defeat at the hands of his rival warlord because he refused to abandon the refugees who were slowing him down.
this is our darkest hour. the coalition has been utterly crushed, my sworn-brother is presumed dead and our best general was last seen defecting to the enemy. it's up to me to cover our retreat. i scrape together twenty men and prepare to take a final stand. i am going to save the man i love--this stupid, loyal, big-hearted loser--or die trying.
i hide my men in the nearby woods and order them to tie branches to their horses tails to stir up dust to make it look like there's a lot of us, and then I ride out alone to face the Rival Warlord's army, screaming and raving like a lunatic.
my deranged, suicidal improvisation ends up being an OVERWHELMING SUCESS because the Rival Warlord is a neurotic over-thinker and he believes there's a huge force in the woods, waiting to ambush him. Rival Warlord calls for a retreat and i use this moment to change my pants.
suddenly, a man comes riding towards us with a baby strapped to his back. IT'S OUR BEST GENERAL!!! He hadn't betrayed us after all! he was behind enemy lines, rescuing the Loser Leige Lord's son and wife! we hug, kiss and shed manly tears. the wife gets a fist-bump. don't ask what happens to the baby later, it's not important.
my actions today have single-handedly changed the course of history. we have earned the undying love and support of the people and my Loser Liege Lord will live to fight another day. by the time Rival Warlord has figured out the ruse and orders a second attack, my sworn-brother has arrived with reinforcements and this time we ambush him for real.
as we make sail for the southern lands, i can't help but feel hopeful in spite of the lingering pain in my heart. although we have suffered unimaginable losses, i still have my sworn-brothers by my side. as long as the three of us are togather, there is nothing in the world i cannot endure. if anyone cares to remember my story after i am dead and gone, let it be known that i am but a coarse, common man with more flaws than strengths. if i have become a hero, then it was in spite of myself and all for the people that i loved.
#history meme#pour one out for my problematic fav zhang fei the guy who started the whole thing#in case u guys thought 2nd century warlord was wacky...no. chinese history is just Like That#romance of the three kingdoms#san guo yan yi#zhang fei#guan yu#cao cao#lui bei#zhao yun#battle of changban#second century warlord#i deadass cried a little writing this. zhang fei is like an f- historical figure but at a+ character. the events are book-inspired with so#some#real history sprinkled in#my writing
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[餘知傳] The 2nd Century Warlord (Part 1)
based on the story by @romanceyourdemons
art by @its-not-a-pen
first day as a second century warlord i have my men tie branches to their horses’ tails to stir up dust and make it look like there’s a lot of us but i forget it just rained so there isn’t any dust and the enemy can clearly see there’s like twenty of us all spread out in a line
second day as a second century warlord i bribe a bunch of kids to start singing a nursery rhyme i carefully crafted to spread misinformation and further my strategic ends but they change the lyrics to be about poop and the enemy isn’t misdirected at all
third day as a second century warlord i lure my enemy into a narrow valley and send a team of archers to shoot them from the high ground but there was a feral hog napping on the trail up to the overlook and they couldn’t decide whether to try and shoot it or just go around and by the time the hog woke up and left on its own the enemy had already passed safely below
fourth day as a second century warlord we attempt to join a battle on the side of the guy we want to ally with but he and the guy he’s fighting have really similar names and it’s finally dusty and i misread the standards and attack the wrong guy. so now we’re stuck with this total loser of a liege lord, because how the fuck do you explain that after a battle?
fifth day as a second century warlord and some sort of wizard wanders into camp, my loser liege lord wants to execute him for being a wizard but i convince him to let the wizard stay, because i want to do more weather-based strategies and i’m pretty sure having a camp wizard can help with that. after the welcome to the team banquet the wizard steals half the treasury and my liege lord’s wife and leaves
sixth day as a second century warlord my loser liege lord sends me to reinforce a city he’s taken, but in the confusion of leaving i forgot to take the token that would have gotten us into the city, so my men have to wait outside the city walls for like eight hours while i ride back to get it
seventh day as a second century warlord and my loser liege lord finally joins me in the city, it turns out he’s actually a pretty cool guy, and he isn’t even that mad at me for letting the wizard steal his wife. i decide to shoot my shot but i’m really nervous and keep on stalling because what if i mess up our relationship and by extension jeopardize the security of my men, and eventually he just says goodnight and goes back to his room, where an assassin is in the process of setting up to kill him
eighth day as a second century warlord and my loser liege lord tells me to fake defect to his rival warlord, the one i originally wanted to ally with, to find out if he was the one who sent the assassin and why. but my whole way over to the rival warlord i’m worried that this has something to do with the wizard thing or how awkward i made it last night
End of Part 1
part 2
This comic was made independently from the creator, I'm just a fan and these are my own interpretations.
Notes under the cut:
the title 餘知傳 [the Story of Yu Zhi], is the styled name of the Second Century Warlord. I translated 餘知 as [plentiful knowledge] since he's defined by a surplus of knowledge but a deficit in luck. It's also great for fish-based puns since it's a homophone. As a nice parallel, Loser Liege Lord's banner is a carp ;))). the art style was inspired by vintage Chinese comics.
The story is set during the Three Kingdoms period, (220 to 280 AD) natural disasters, infighting and civil unrest had dissolved the previous Han Dynasty, leading to a violent free-for-all. I based the clothes on the previous Eastern Han styles, mainly because there just weren't a lot of contemporary references from the 3K period (and it only lasted like, 60 years). I always strive for historical accuracy, however, the Han Dynasty was over 400 years long and some sources don't do a great job separating out the different fashions, so I apologise for any mistakes that occur.
2. there aren't a ton of drawings on what Han children looked like, but in general ancient kids hairstyles are pretty consistent. 9-15 yo boys had shaved heads with two little top knots, girls had natural hair in braids/buns.
3. the crossbow (back left) makes a cameo, it was associated with Zhuge Liang, famous real-life strategist from the 3K era.
4. the LLL and his wife thank the Warlord, (a noblewoman on a battlefield??? scandalous!). it shows the LLL enjoys the unconventional and the wife is not as timid as she appears. I thought it would be funny to make them look as Background Character (tm) as possible.
5. I based the wizard's design on sages from mythology. (Hey, he's not a total fraud, he invented gunpowder 800 years before the Tang dynasty!) Nice little character moment for the LLL who is shielding his wife.
6. What do soldiers do while they're waiting for 8 hours? (<-from the right) playing knucklebones with pebbles, whittling a little horse, feeding sparrows, gossiping with neighbour, drinking from his gourd, napping. A minor warlord can't afford to keep a professional army so they're most likely conscripted farmers who've had to buy their own weapons and armour, hence why they look so unimpressive.
7. LLL offers the Warlord a bitten peach. Inspired by the legend of Mizi Xia who bit into a delicious peach and gave it to the Emperor so he could taste it was well. "Bitten peach" was a byword for homosexuality in ancient China. I thought it would be SO funny if the LLL was actually smooth af and the Warlord was a like a teenaged girl crushing for the first time. He's desperate to taste that peach but is too timid to reach out >;))) man has zero game. negative game, even. truely the PS4 of homosexuals. RIP to the assassin in the back corner who was forced to watch the most awkward, cringe-fail attempt at flirting in the history of china play out.
8. this is what zero peach does to a mf. UnU
#ink drawing#comics#second century warlord#original art#ancient china#op if ur reading this im a huge fan and i love ur work#storytime#tumblr stories#history memes#romance of the three kingdoms
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Sarah J Maas: plagiarism or inspiration
In this post we are going to discuss the various and stricking similaries between Sarah J Maas series TOG/ACOTAR with original books she admited to consume, as well as the use of direct lines from movies, books and tv shows in her books, and where do we draw the line in what we consider to be inspiration vs plagiarism.
As some people know, SJM is a big fan of Anne Bishop's work, especifically her Black Jewels trilogy. Some people already noticed similarities between the two series (and in her TOG books as well) in terms of storyline, races and characters, but it's not nearly talked about enough.
It's good to make clear that the first book of "the black jewels" was published in 1998 and the last one of the trilogy was published in 2000, over 12 years before acotar and TOG was even launched. So Bishop's work was around a long time before sjm started to publish her books.
That being said, let's start with the fact that the beginning of her first series TOG is pratically the same as the beginning of the second book of The Black Jewels, Heir to the Shadows, but with a different character:
"After a year of slavery in the Salt Mines of Endovier, Celaena Sardothien was accustomed to being escorted everywhere in shackles and at sword-point. Most of the thousands of slaves in Endovier received similar treatment—though an extra half-dozen guards always walked Celaena to and from the mines. That was expected by Adarlan’s most notorious assassin. What she did not usually expect, however, was a hooded man in black at her side—as there was now" (TOG, 2012)
"Surrounded by guards, Lucivar Yaslana, the half-breed Eyrien Warlord Prince, walked into the courtyard, fully expecting to hear the order for his execution. There was no other reason for a salt mine slave to be brought to this courtyard, and Zuultah, the Queen of Pruul, had good reason to want him dead. Prythian, the High Priestess of Askavi, still wanted him alive, still hoped to turn him to stud. But Prythian wasn't standing in the courtyard with Zuultah." (Heir to the Shadows, 1999).
So, Sarah's first work begins with a paragraph that is already really really similar to the first one in Bishop's second novel.
Now, let's then move on to the part that shocked me the most and made me sure of doing this post: The extreme and undeniable resemblance between the Illyrians with the Eyriens, a race portrayed in Bishop's Black Jewels books, who one of the main characters, Lucivar (coincidentally or not, Sarah's favorite one) is a part of.
The Eyriens are described to be warriors with tanned skin, gold eyes, and "batlike wings". Eyrien males are trained in hunting camps as children, and the females are forbidden to touch weapons. They are often found in a mountainous territory called "Askavi Terreille", and carry prejudice against half-eyriens. Does all that sounds familiar?
The Illyrians are so much like the Eyriens, it's not even funny. They have bat-like wings, the males are trained in camps, live by the mountains, have their own personalized weapons, and the females are usually mistreated and not allowed to fight. And what does Rhysand suffer from them? Prejudice, because he's half illyrian. Even their physical characteristics are the same: golden brown skin, hazel eyes, black hair. What mainly sets on them apart is their names (which still sound pretty similar) and the fact that the illyrians have tattoos.
"He spread his dark, membranous wings, trying to ease the ache in his back." ( Daughter of the blood, page 12)
"Indeed, it was still Rhysand’s face, his powerful male body, but flaring out behind him were massive black membranous wings—like a bat’s, like the Attor’s" (ACOTAR, page 348)
"Still, it was home, and centuries of enslaved exile had left him aching for the smell of clean mountain air, the taste of a sweet, cold stream, the silence of the woods, and, most of all, the mountains where the Eyrien race soare" (Daughter of the blood, page 16)
"The Illyrians … We love our people, and our traditions, but they dwell in clans and camps deep in the mountains of the North" (ACOMAF, page 165)
"He had never felt this weary, this beaten. Not as a half-breed boy in the Eyrien hunting camps, not in the countless courts he'd served in over the centuries since" (Heir to the darkness, page 13)
“When I turned eight, my mother brought me to one of the Illyrian war- camps . To be trained, as all Illyrian males were trained" ( ACOMAF, page 168)
”She kept resisting because Eyrien females traditionally didn’t touch a warrior’s weapons" (Queen of the darkness, page 151).
“Some camps issued decrees that if a female was caught training, she was to be deemed unmarriageable. I can’t fight against things like that, not without slaughtering the leaders of each camp and personally raising each and every one of their offspring.” (ACOMAF, page 434)
”There are reasons why Eyrien males are the warriors— Lucivar said, his eyes skimming over the women as he paced slowly down the line and back again.— We’re bigger, stronger, and we have the temperament for killing. You have other strengths and other skills. Most of the time, that works out well." (Queen of Darkness, page 156)
“The Illyrians— Rhys smoothly cut in, that light finally returning to his gaze — Are unparalleled warriors, and are rich with stories and traditions. But they are also brutal and backward, particularly in regard to how they treat their females.” (ACOMAF, page 166)
"She wanted to cut the wings off, raise the boy as Dhemlan maybe. But he said no, in his soul the boy was Eyrien, and it would be kinder to kill him in the cradle than to cut his wings" (Daughter Of The Blood, page 138)
“I banned wing-clipping a long, long time ago, but … at the more zealous camps, deep within the mountains, they do it." (ACOMAF, page 434).
"But they’re good boys, and they’ll carry their weight. And they are full-blooded Eyriens — he added.
— So they don’t carry the stigma of being half-breeds? — Lucivar asked with deadly control." (Queen of the Darkness, page 39)
"He gave Rhys command of a legion of Illyrians who hated him for being a half-breed" (ACOMAF, page 136)
"Then he called in his Ebon-gray Jewels and the wide leather belt that held his hunting knife and his Eyrien war blade" (Heir to the shadows, page 257)
"I went from physical defense to learning to wield an Illyrian blade, the weapon so fine, I’d nearly taken Cassian’s arm off." (ACOMAF, page 367)
Some people can look at this as simple inspiration, but others consider the races to be almost identical. Their prejudices, the place they live, the place where they train and how they train being the same, with only a few minor key points being changed.
In Bishop's work men and women are adressed and divided as "males" and "females". Their society is based the existence of jewels, where the darker someone's jewel is, the more powerful that person becomes.
The jewels are close to what SJM called siphons, used by the illyrians. They are a representation of the powers of members of the blood, serve as containers, and vary in colors. Siphons, however, are literally jewels who filter Illyrians powers, manipulating magic. Members of the blood can have more than one jewel, and illyrians can have more than one siphon.
"An uncut Jewel is a rare thing, little Sister — Titian said, removing something from the box. — Wait until you know who you are before you have it set. Then it will be more than a receptacle for the power your body can't hold; it will be a statement of what you are." (Daughter of the blood, page 71)
"He held up his hands, the backs to me so both jewels were on full display.— They’re called Siphons . They concentrate and focus our power in battle.” (ACOMAF, page 162)
"The Black-Jeweled ring on his right hand glittered with an inner fire." (Daughter of the blood, page 39)
"Siphons atop his scarred hands flickered like rippling blue fire as he reached for the Attor." (ACOMAF, page 262)
" Your fingers clenched around that Jewel. There was a flash of Red light, and the guards were flung backward." ( Daughter of the blood, page 136)
"Cassian lifted his hand into the air. Red light exploded from his Siphon, blasting up and away" (ACOMAF, page 543)
"Her strength was gone. The Jewel hungaround her neck, dark and empty" (Daughter of the blood, page 399)
"Azriel’s blue Siphons were dull, muted. Utterly empty." (ACOMAF, page 554)
The Blood possess some ability to sense and mask their psychic scent. The conception of "scent" not only acts as a way for them to recognize each other, but also sense their emotions, and seems to be highlighted between couples, with Daemon for using it in order to fantasize or look for Jaenelle. That matches perfectly SJM's universe where the Fae are able to feel each others scents, sensing their emotions through it, it being stronger between mated couples:
"The psychic scent was almost gone, but he recognized it. A dark scent. A powerful, terrifying, wonderful scent. He breathed deeply, and the lifetime hunger in him became intense".(Daughter of the blood, page 178).
"Like the body that housed it, a witch's psychic scent had a muskiness that a Blood male could find as arousing as the body—if not more so" (Daughter of the blood, page 184)
His scent drifted to her, darker, muskier than usual. She’d bet all the money she didn’t have that it was the scent of his arousal. (ACOSF, page 235)
"A room where she had slept would still be strong with her psychic scent, even if it had been cleaned" (Daughter of the blood, page 182)
"Cassian had flown back up to the House. And found the oak door to the stairs open, Nesta’s scent lingering." (ACOSF, page 99)
"No psychic scent of emotions for the guards to play with as they put the sobbing man into the old, one-man boat." (Daughter of the blood, page 149)
"He didn’t need to use a psychic probe to know who was on the other side of the door. The scent of her fear was sufficient." (Queen of the darkness, page 120)
"Their faces were vacant. Not a trace of fear in them, or in their scents." (ACOSF, page 344)
"Those of us who have would notice the similarities in your psychic scents and reach the correct conclusion" ( Queen of Darkness, page 114)
"He didn’t believe me. So he grabbed Catrin, because our scents were nearly identical, you see" (ACOSF, page 652)
The basic unit of Blood society and government is a Queen and her Court. To create a Court, she must be at the age of majority and have twelve males who agree to be in her First Circle. Jaenelle creates hers in the second book, who is denominated as the "dark court". How is Rhysan's court called? The night court. How is his unity of power named? "the inne circle". Rhysand's court is also referred as "the court of dreams", and Jaenelle is called "dreams made flesh".
"He hoped she'd be pleased to have the use of this place. He hoped he'd be invited when she established her own court. He wanted to see whom she selected for her First Circle" (Daughter of the Blood page 92)
"They’re Rhysand’s Inner Circle.The ones I’d heard mentioned that day at the Night Court—who Rhys kept going to meet." (ACOMAF, page 135)
"The living myth— Saetan whispered.— Dreams made flesh— His throat tightened. He closed his eyes." (Heir to the shadows, page 459)
“And what is this court? — I asked, gesturing to them. The most important question.
It was Cassian, eyes clear and bright as his Siphon, who said — The Court of Dreams.”
Remember Lucivar? The main Eyrien character? Well, it doesn't help sjm's case that he's incredibly similar to Cassian:
Because he's an eyrien, Lucivar was raised as a warrior and has bat wings, together with gold eyes and tanned skin. He also has long black hair and is considered to be well-built. Initially his jewels are birthright red, and later they descent into being ebon grey. Just like his father, he is known as having an explosive temper who often lead him to trouble. Thanks to him not being recognized by Saetan initially, Lucivar is seen as a bastard. This is not at all far from how Cassian is written.
Let's also keep in mind: Lucivar is also responsable for recruting and training Eyrien warriors in the Dark Court, later training the women who live in Ebon Askavi (which, as I will show later, is almost identical to the House of Wind).
Cassian's tragetory is marked by him being underlooked as a "bastard" and not being able to control his temper, and that is further developed in acosf. His appereance is carbon-copy of Lucivar (the only difference being that his eyes are hazel), and his siphons are red. He also happens to train illyrian warriors, and later Feyre, Nesta and the other priestesses from the library. Like Lucivar has a brotherly bond with Jaenelle and waits for her to be his queen, Cassian has a brotherly love for Feyre and respects her as his high lady:
"Unlike the other slaves who couldn't contain their misery or fear, there was no expression in Lucivar's gold eyes" (Daughter of the Blood, page 13)
"Like their High Lord, the males—warriors—were dark-haired, tan-skinned. But unlike Rhys, their eyes were hazel and fixed on me as I at last stepped close" (ACOMAF, page 155)
"She looked so pale against his light-brown skin, and he knew it wasn't simply because she was fair-skinned" (Daughter of the blood, page 19)
"She watched his light brown fingers play against her pale skin" (ACOSF, page 367)
"The man wore a leather vest and the black, skintight trousers favored by Eyrien warriors. His black hair fell to his shoulders, which was unusual for an Eyrien male. [..] A wild joy filled Daemon, even as his heart clogged his throat and tears stung his gold eyes. Lucivar." (Queen of the Darkness, page 45)
"Cassian surveyed Rhys from head to foot, his shoulder-length black hair shifting with the movement" (ACOMAF, page 155)
"Because he was a half-breed bastard, he had no hope of attaining a position of authority within a court, despite the rank of his jewels" (Daughter of the Blood, page 17)
"I can tell you how I hear Eris and Devlon and the others talk and, deep down, I still believe that I am a worthless bastard brute. That it doesn’t matter how many Siphons I have or how many battles I’ve won" (ACOSF, page 434)
"Tears stung Lucivar's eyes. Why, Daemon? What did she do to deserve being hurt like that? His voice rose. He couldn't stop it. She was the Queen we had dreamed of serving. We had waited for her for so long. You butchering whore, why did you have to kill her?" (Heir to the shadows, page 31)
"He’d thought about that painting a great deal in the days afterward—how it had made him feel, how close they’d all come to losing their High Lady before they’d ever met her." (ACOSF, page 43)
"Because he was a trained Eyrien warrior and had a temper that was explosive even for a Warlord Prince" (Daughter of the blood, page 16)
"Cassian was lounging in his chair, a glass of wine in his hand, staring at nothing. A brooding warrior-prince, contemplating the death of his enemies." (ACOSF, page 275)
"He could have caught him on the first pass. The young one will have to concede the battle, but it’ll stay in his mind that he put up a good fight. No, Lucivar understands how to train an Eyrien warrior.” (Queen of Darkness, page 103)
"Cassian prayed that the gods were watching over him as Rhys sipped from his tea and said,
—You’re ready?
He leaned back in his seat. — I’ve gotten young warriors in line before." (ACOSF, page 43)
There's even a line when Lucivar is training the women in ebon askavi that hits very close to one used when Cassian is training the priestesses:
”If you can become half as proficient with this as she is, you’ll be able to take down any male except an Eyrien warrior — Falonar said slowly. — And you’ll be able to take down half of them as well.” (Queen of the darkness, page 158)
"Cassian continued to train Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn. The rain didn’t let up, and they were all soaked, but the exertion kept the bite of the cold away.— So this can really down a male in one move? [...] He concentrated on the females in front of him. — This move will knock anyone unconscious if you hit the right spot.” (ACOSF, page 385)
Daemon, his brother, is too very similar to Rhysand. He has the reputation of a sadist, after being tortured and used as slave in the hands of Dorotothea, close to how Rhys was known as a cruel fae who had to serve Amarantha (the way they a called is also pretty much the same, as well, being referred as their "pet" or "whore"). Daemon believes to be destined to Jaenelle, even before meeting her, sometimes feeling her touch, and dreaming or her, just like Rhysand talks about knowing Feyre was his mate, and dreaming of her before they met. He, like Saetan, Jaenelle, and Lucivar, is a black widow: which means he can access people's minds and thoughts, as well as communicate telephatically, exactly how daemanti in acotar have the ability to do.
"His face was a gift of his mysterious heritage, aristocratic and too beautifully shaped to be called merely handsome. He was tall and broad-shouldered. He kept his body well toned and muscular enough to please. His voice was deep and cultured, with a husky, seductive edge to it that made women go all misty-eyed. His gold eyes and thick black hair were typical of all three of Terreille's long-lived races, but his warm, golden-brown skin was a little lighter than the Hayllian aristos—more like the Dhemlan race." (Daughter of the blood, page 24)
"I stepped out of the shelter of my savior’s arm and turned to thank him. Standing before me was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. Everything about the stranger radiated sensual grace and ease. High Fae, no doubt. His short black hair gleamed like a raven’s feathers" (ACOTAR, page 193)
"I had no answer to that—to the tenor in his rich, deep voice. So I examined the tattoos on his chest and arms, the glow of his tan skin , so golden now that he was no longer caged inside that mountain." (ACOMAF, page 289)
"Daemon smiled that cold, cruel smile. "Now you know what it's like to get into bed with Hayll's Whore." (Daughter of the blood, page 77)
"Lucien interrupted — What do you know about anything? You’re just Amarantha’s whore.
— Her whore I might be, but not without my reasons.” (ACOTAR, page 239)
"In his soul, he knew her. In his dreams, he saw her. He never envisioned a face. It always blurred if he tried to focus on it. But he could see her dressed in a robe made of dark, transparent spidersilk, a robe that slid from her shoulders as she moved, a robe that opened and closed as she walked, revealing bare, night-cool skin. And there would be a scent in the room that was her, a scent he would wake to, burying his face in her pillow after she was up and attending her own concerns." (Daughter of the Blood, page 27)
“Three years ago, he said quietly, — I began to have these … dreams [...] The images were foggy, like looking through cloudy glass. They were brief—a flash here and there, every few months. I thought nothing of them, until one of the images was of a hand … This beautiful, human hand. Holding a brush. Painting—flowers on a table.” (ACOMAF, page 504)
“I saw you through your dreams—and I hoarded the images [...] I’d wake up with your scent in my nose, and it would haunt me all day, every step." (ACOMAF, page 505)
"There was a bitter taste in Daemon's mouth. The ashes of dreams. After all, he was Hayll's Whore, a pleasure slave, an amusement for the ladies no matter what their age, a way to pass the time" (Daughter of the blood, page 267)
"And he would be at that table in the town house, roaring with laughter—never again cold and cruel and solemn. Never again anyone’s slave or whore" (ACOMAF, page 497)
"You're my Queen,he thought fiercely. His body ached. She was his Queen. But with her family surrounding them, watching, there was nothing he could say or do to help her" (Daughter of the blood, page 360)
"My equal in every way; she would wear my crown, sit on a throne beside mine. Never sidelined, never designated to breeding and parties and child-rearing. My queen." (ACOMAF, 598)
"He caught her wrists, holding her off with an ease that made her scream. He hit the Black shields on her inner barriers hard enough to make her work to keep them intact, but they wouldn't keep him out for long." (Daughter of the blood, page 302)
"My innate talents allow me to slip through the mental shields of anyone I wish, with or without that bridge—unless they’re very, very strong, or have trained extensively to keep those shields tight." (ACOMAF, page 59)
At some point Daemon is even called Jaenelle's mate:
"He’s here! Jaenelle’s mate is finally here! Daemon felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him" (Heir to the shadows, page 117)
His position and title of highlord is parallelled a lot by how Saetan is decribed:
"High Lord of Hell, the Prince of the Darkness, the most powerful and dangerous Warlord Prince in the history of the Blood" (Daughter of the darkness, page 266)
"For what it’s worth, I’m the most powerful High Lord in Prythian’s history" (ACOMAF, page 145)
Moving on to other similarities, Ebon Askavi, known as the black mountain or "the keep", who is put as a sanctuary, keeping a library containing the history of the blood, matches the form in which the house of wind is developed in sjm's books, with the palace also being embedded into a mountain. The Keep is a safe place where the high lord of hell reserves for the demon dead to rest, same as Rhysand turning the library into a home for the priestesses. And the whole Bryaxis situation? A creature who lives in the pit of the library? Well, Ebon askavi used to be the home of the prince of dragons: Lorn, who guess what? Used to reside beneath it. Finally, Bishop literally describes the palace as the place where "The winds meet".
"Saetan limped across the empty courtyard to the huge, open-metal doors embedded into the mountain itself, rang the bell, and waited to enter the Keep, the Black Mountain, Ebon Askavi, where the Winds meet. It was the repository for the Blood's history as well as a sanctuary for the darkest-Jeweled Blood. It was also the private lair of Witch" (Daughter of the blood, page 59)
"Draca led him through the corridors of Ebon Askavi toward a large stairwell that descended into the heart of the mountain." ( Daughter of the blood, page 431)
“Her throat closed at the surge of memories and at the sprawling view—the glimmering ribbon of the Sidra far below, the red-stoned palace built into the side of the flat-topped mountain itself." (ACOSF, page 49).
“I made this library into a refuge for them. Some come to heal, work as acolytes, and then leave; some take the oaths to the Cauldron and Mother to become priestesses and remain here forever" (ACOWAR, page 212)
"She still served the Keep itself, looking after the comfort of the scholars who came to study, of the Queens who needed a dark place to rest" (Daughter of the Blood, page 61)
"— Who was here before them?
— A few cranky old scholars, who cursed me soundly when I relocated them to other libraries in the city. They still get access, but when and where is always approved by the priestesses.” (ACOWAR, page 213)
“There is a creature beneath the library. Do you know it?
Amren shut the book.
— Its name is Bryaxis.
— What is it.
— You do not want to know, girl.” (ACOWAR, page 452).
"Mother Night, Saetan — Geoffrey said, his breathing ragged. — The Keep is his lair.
He's been here all the time.
He hadn't expected Lorn to be so big. "(Heir to the shadows, page 476)
As for Amren being a unknown creature who was tuned into a faerie and lived centuries before everyone else? Same thing as Draca. She lived by the time Dragons ruled the world and was later turned into something "human", assisting the high lord of hell:
"When only the Queen and her Prince, Lorn, were left, the Queen bid her Consort farewell [...] When the last scale fell from her, she vanished. Some stories say her body was transformed into some other shape, though it still contained a dragon's soul" (Heir to the shadows, page 375).
"— Why won’t Amren go in here?
— Because she was once a prisoner.
— Not in that body, I take it.
A cruel smile.
— No. Not at all.” (ACOMAF, page 185)
"Spiraling? — Geoffrey thought for a moment and shook his head. — No, but that doesn't mean it can't happen. Ask Draca. Compared to her, you're still in the nursery and I'm just a stripling." (Daughter of the blood, page 243)
"In the countless millennia they had existed here in Prythian, Rhys—Rhys with his smirking and sarcasm and bedroom eyes ...And Amren was worse. And older than five thousand years." (ACOMAF, page 145)
"When they had first arrived at the Keep, Lucivar had given him a cryptic warning: Draca is a dragon in human form.The moment he’d seen the Seneschal, he’d understood what Lucivar meant. Her looks, combined with the feel of great age and old, deep power, had fascinated him." (Queen of the darkness, page 252)
"Because even though the short, delicate woman looked like High Fae … as Rhys had warned me, every instinct was roaring to run. To hide. [...] But Amren’s eyes …Her silver eyes were unlike anything I’d ever seen; a glimpse into the creature that I knew in my bones wasn’t High Fae. Or hadn’t been born that way." (ACOMAF, page 158)
"Draca asked. Her unblinking reptilian eyes revealed nothing" (Daughter of the blood, page 431)
You can also find some of the names of characters and places of Anne Bishop's books in Sarah J Mass ones. For instance: Sarah admited Prythian was a trick on Pryddain from the chronicles of Pryddain but that she couldn't put the original name because it belonged to Phillip Alexander, so she choose Prythian. But one of the high priestesses in Bishop's trilogy is indeed named Prythian.
"Prythian, Askavi's High Priestess, couldn't leash his temper enough to serve witches he despised" (Daughter of the blood, page 16)
If you look at the titles of some of the TOGs books, you realize they are alike Anne Bishop's as well:
The thing is: where do we draw the line when it comes to inspiration in books? It's common to have some similarities between author's works, however, to have that many in lines, places, plots, on top of races and characters who are nearly identical to the ones someone created fourteen years before you? I don't know.
I don't appreciate Bishop's work, in fact, I suffered a lot to go through the trilogy, for problems like: explicit sexual violence, mutilation, and worst of all grooming (Daemon meets his so called soulmate when she's a child, and he kisses her when she's 12), which literally made feel sick, but, is clear Bishop came up with a lot of things a long time before SJM did.
Because her series of books came out by the 2000, most of sjm's target audience doesn't know Bishop's work, making it very easy to avoid comparison. This is one of the reasons why this situation becomes a big problem, because most of her fans think SJM work is totally original, and that she came up with 99% of the concepts by herself.
Besides the black jewels, Sarah was said to have taking scenes, plots and quotes from other original productions/books, like the lord of the rings (which she's also a huge fan):
For example, The White Tree of Gondor and Kingsflame.
The White Tree of Gordon only blooms when the rightful ruler sits on the throne. Coming to later bloom in Aragorn's coronation:
"And so the kingdom of Gondor sank into ruin, the line of kings failed, the white tree withered and the rule of Gondor was given over to lesser men."
Kingsflame, however, it’s a magical flower that first bloomed when Brannon arrived, proof that was a good king:
"since those ancient days, only single blossoms had been spotted, so rare in their appearance that their appearance was deemed a sign that the land had blessed whatever ruler sat on Terrasen’s throne. (KOA 686)"
Similarly, the flower also blooms after Aelin’s Coronation:
Across every mountain, spread across the green canopy of Oakwald, carpeting the entire Plain of Theralis, the kingsflame was blooming. (KOA 984)
We also have the scene when Haldir arrives at helms deep:
"I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell. An alliance once existed between Elves and men. Long ago we fought and died together. We come to honor that allegiance."
While Manon says this in KOA:
"Long ago the Crochans fought beside Terrasen, to honor the great debt we owed the Fae King Brannon for granting us a homeland."(KOA, page 693)
And don't forget, Aragorn saying:
"My friends, you bow to no one"
While Rhysand says this in ACOWAR:
"You bow to no one, was all he replied"
Don't forget, the conversation between Theoden and Gamling in the Two Towers movie:
"Theoden: Who am I, Gamling?
Gamling : You are our king, sire.
Theoden : And do you trust your king?
Gamling : Your men, my Lord, will follow you to whatever end.
Theoden : To whatever end... "
Followed by this conversation between Rowan and Aelin:
“—To whatever end? — she breathed.
Rowan followed her, as he had his entire life, long before they had ever met, before their souls had sparked into existence. —“To whatever end, Fireheart.”
We also have other examples, like treasure island:
"Look at you! Glowing like a solar fire. You're something special, Jim. You're gonna rattle the stars, you are!" (Treasure Island-2003)
"You could rattle the stars," she whispered. "You could do anything, if only you dared. And deep down, you know it, too. That’s what scares you most. "( TOG page 385, chapter 54)
ASOIAF:
A quite similar phrase to "Queen that was promised" was used in GRRM’s ASOIAF, where an ancient prophecy talked about a "Prince who was promised", later it being reveleaded that they expected a boy, but the title was said to fall to Daenarys Targaryen (a queen). This is mentioned in " A dance of dragons" which was published in 2011. This prince is also mentioned as being “the Heir of Fire”.
"Westeros must unite beneath her one true king, the prince that was promised, Lord of Dragonstone and chosen of R'hllor" ( A dance with dragons, 2011)
"Perhaps it had all been for nothing. The Queen Who Was Promised" (KOA, page 121, 2018)
"He is fire made flesh, she thought, and so am I." (A dance with dragons, page 949, 2011)
"Fire - he reminded her of fire made flesh." (ACOWAR, 2017)
Harry Potter is added to list, as well:
Dumbledore: Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living, and, above all those who live without love. (HP and the deathly hallows, page 705, 1997).
Rhysand: Be glad of your human heart, Feyre. Pity those who don’t feel anything at all. (ACOTAR, page 418, 2012).
"Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light." (Harry Potter and the prisioner of Azkaban, 2004)
“Light can be found even in the darkest of hells” (ACOWAR, page 577, 2017)
The movie spirit:
Little Creek: Take care of her, Spirit-who-could-not-be-broken (Spirit, 2002)
Nehemia: I name you Elentiya, ‘Spirit That Cannot Be Broken.' (TOG, page 44)
Shadow and Bone:
The quote "like calls to like" explains one of the most important plot points in shadow and bone, the first book was published in 2012, and Sarah was mentioned in Leigh's acknowledgments as the person who gave her first review. She had used "magic calls to magic" before in throne of glass in 2012, yet the book was published in august, while Shadow and Bone came out before, in june. The principle of "like calls to like" in her books was mentioned by the time ACOMAF came out, in 2016, four years later. It was also used to describe attraction to objects of power, which follows Bardugo's concept.
Shadow and Bone: The grounding principle of the Small Science was “like calls to like" (page 113)
ACOMAF: The box—the Book—was silent. Then it said, Like calls to like (page 350)
“The Grisha claims the amplifier, but the amplifier claims the Grisha, as well. Once it is done, there can be no other. Like calls to like, and the bond is made.” (page 130)
The movie troy:
"Menelaus : Prince? What prince? What son of a king would accept a man's hospitality, eat his food, drink his wine, embrace him in friendship, and then steal his wife in the middle of the night?
Paris : The sun was shining when your wife left you." (Troy, 2004)
“If you hadn’t stolen my bride away in the night, Rhysand, I would not have been forced to take such drastic measures to get her back.
I said quietly, The sun was shining when I left you.” (ACOWAR, page 396, 2017)
The Land before Time:
"Some things you see with your eyes. Other things you see with your heart." ( The Land before Time 1988)
"Some things you hear with your eyes. Other things you hear with your heart."( Crown of Midgnight, page 168, 2011)
Mulan:
"Shan Yu: How many men does it take to deliver a message?
The other Hun: One.
The Hun proceeds to shoot one of the imperial soldiers with an arrow." (Mulan, 1998)
“But it seems like tonight isn’t really your night, Elide said to the ilken, lifting the hatchet again over a shoulder. The ilken might have been whimpering as she smiled grimly.—Because it only takes one to deliver a message. And your companions are already on their way.
The axe fell.
Flesh and bone and blood spilled onto the stones.” (Empire of Storms, page 455, 2016)
There's more to show about the black jewels, but this posts is already huge, so I'm going to finish by talking a little bit about her new series: Crescent city, which people already pointed out to be similar to another series she also talked about before: The Fever series by Karn Marie Moning, published in 2007. Now, I don't think is the same case as the black jewels, because crescent city does follow a much more different story, but is still have matching characters and main storyline.
Darkfever tells the story of MacKayla, a girl who seemingly had a perfect life. After the murder of her sister, she sees herself obligated to make an alliance with the mysterious Jericho in order find her killer, whilst exploring her sidhe-seer powers. Crescent city, on the other hand, is also about a girl losing people close to her: her best friend and her crush, then deciding to solve their deaths by teaming up with the fallen angel Hunt.
Mackayla is a sidhe seer, a person who can see fae, and ends up in the book series as their queen, while Bryce is half fae. They are both extremely attractive girls, who love to party and take good care of their appereance. Jericho, however, is a handsome, tough supernatural being who resources to Mac in order to find answers, ending up getting involved with her. Lastly, Hunt is a fallen angel, who needs to make sure Bryce cooperates with the investigation, and develops feelings for her.
"My sister's whole body had holes in it, Inspector! Not just her arms! The coroner said they looked like teeth marks! — Not of any person or animal he'd been able to identify, though.— And parts of her were just fora!— I was shaking. I hated the memory. It made me sick to my stomach" (Dark Fever, page 71)
"She knew in her bones it was not a hallucination, what lay on that bed, knew in her bones that what bled out inside her chest was her heart. Danika lay there. In pieces" (Crescent City, page 74)
"Grieving wasn't going to bring her back, and it sure wasn't going to make me feel better about whoever'd killed her walking around alive out there somewhere, happy in their sick little psychotic way, while my sister lay icy and white beneath six feet of dirt" (Dark Fever, page 10)
"Briggs planned to hurt people, and he deserved to be in jail, but—he’d been wrongly accused of the murder.Danika’s killer was still out there" (Crescent City, page 145)
"I think I just finally expelled the last drop of moisture from my body that wasn't absolutely necessary to keep me alive. And rage watered my parched soul. I wanted answers. I wanted justice.I wanted revenge." (Dark fever, page 11)
"She didn’t know where to start.But she’d do it. Find whoever had done this.[...] She ground her teeth. She’d find whoever had done this and make them regret ever being born." (Crescent City, page 164)
Once again, Hunt has the exact same appeareance as Jericho, and their personalities are also pretty much alike.
"He studied me with his predator's gaze, assessing me from head to toe. I studied him back. He didn't just occupy space; he saturated it.The room had been full of books before, now it was full of him. About thirty, six foot two or three, he had dark hair, golden skin, and dark eyes. His features were strong, chiseled." (Dark Fever, page 36)
"An angel who reason and history reminded him was an ally, though every instinct roared the opposite.Predator. Killer. Monster. Hunt Athalar’s angular dark eyes, however, remained fixed on the window. On Bryce Quinlan." (House of earth and blood, page 80)
"Hunt nodded once, his golden-brown face betraying nothing." (House of earth and blood, page 81)
"Then the male leafed through Quinlan’s thin file, his shoulder-length black hair slipping over his unreadable face." (House of earth and blood, page 81)
Darkfever presentd V'lane as a third character, an attractive seelie prince, who rules the Tuatha Dé Dannan, and happens to go after Mackayla as revenge against Jericho. In crescent city, there third main character is Ruhn, Bryce's half brother, and who is he? A crowned prince of the fae. And what is his last name? Danaan.
"Even today, after all that I've seen, I couldn't begin to describe V'lane, prince of the Tuatha Dé Danaan." (Dark Fever, page 134)
"Thinking she’d get a nice, sweaty ride with a Prince of the Fae, she’d be sorely disappointed. He was in no shape for fucking right now." (Crescent city, page 199)
“I got a phone call, Naomi said. From Ruhn fucking Danaan. He’s livid that we didn’t notify Sky and Breath about bringing in the girl." (Crescent city, page 96)
The scene where Hunt goes to watch over Bryce in her apartment follows the exact same patterns of the scene Jericho goes to visit Mackayla in her home:
"A moment later, her phone buzzed on the coffee table. Right as her show began.She didn’t know the number, but she wasn’t at all surprised when she picked up, plopping down onto the cushions, and Hunt growled,
— Open the curtains. I want to watch the show.” (Crescent city, page 84)
"Someone knocking at my door awakened me [...] I glanced at my watch. It was two o'clock in the morning. I was sleepy and grumpy and didn't try to disguise it.
—Who is it?
— Jericho Barrons." (Dark Fever, page 40)
“Open the curtains.
— No, thank you.
— Or you could invite me in and make my job easier.
— Definitely no.
—Why?
— Because you can do your job just as well from that roof.” (Crescent City; page 184)
"Do you intend to open this door, Ms. Lane, or shall we converse where anyone might attend our business? [...]. If he was willing to trade, I had to open that door. Unless…
— We can trade through the door, I said.
— No
— Why not?
— I am a private person, Ms. Lane. This is not negotiable." (Dark Fever, page 41)
"His dark eyes didn’t so much as blink. Striking—that was the only word Bryce could think of to describe his handsome face, full of powerful lines and sharp cheekbones. — You can make this investigation easy, or you can make it hard.” (Crescent City, page 187)
" When I said nothing, he said softly — If you are not with me, Ms. Lane, you are against me. I have no mercy for my enemies.
I shrugged." (Dark Fever, page 46)
So, I do believe SJM is the type author whose actions we need to discuss. Even if you see the whole thing with " The black jewels" is just an inspiration, you can't deny the fact there some exact lines of movies and books in her work. Plus: it's not just one quote or just one plot, but many.
If you ever try to read The Black Jewels trilogy you'll notice much more than what I brought in this post, and I do hope more people are able to research it. However, if you have any triggers regarding SA, mutil*tion, abuse, gr*mming, or torture scenes, I strongly recommend you do not read these books. They are not easy to go through, and the same thing goes to Dark Fever, although is a lot lighter.
Now, you can find more about the "Lord of the rings" and "Harry Potter" situation in here:
This is not a post trying to "cancel" sjm or simply attack her without reason. But I do believe we have to talk about her work and the problems with it, especially when it involves the work of other writers. If anyone has any more examples, or articles about this matter, quote this post with them if you can. I couldn't put more because you have a limit for tumblr posts, and it would be way too much. Anyway, thank you sticking here until the end.
#the dark jewels#anti sjm#anti acotar#anti acomaf#anti acowar#anti acofas#anti acosf#anti feysand#anti rhysand#anti cassian#anti nessian#anti sjmaas#anti feyre#anti inner circle#the fever series#anti azriel#anti sarah j maas#anti tog#anti throne of glass#lotr#anti tower of dawn#anti aelin#anti rowan#anti rowaelin
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From Away 1
Warnings: this series will include dark elements which may include noncon or dubcon and other untagged triggers. Mind the warnings.
Summary: you apply for a job with a rather eccentric boss.
Character: Harald Halfdansson
Big thanks to those who read! Feedback always helps inspire and you know I’m always happy to chat about possibilities! Please reblog and comment ❤️
Courtesy tag: @alicedopey
For a country built forged in centuries, everything feels so sparkly and new to you. A new home, a new world, at least for a while. It is all so splendid and wonderful. And expensive.
So it is that you head off with a fold in hand and your purse bouncing against your hip. You have a job interview. A very interesting one though the commute promises more than enough time to prepare. Rather, to overthink.
You can’t complain. It sounds like an interesting opportunity. A dream job you couldn’t hope for back home. There weren’t any historical sites that popular to require excessive staff.
You stand at the stop just outside your building. You need to catch a connection at the downtown center and another in an area you’ve never been before. After that, there’s a bit of a walk but you could use a reason to exercise.
The bus pulls up and you smile at the driver as you scan your pass. You find a seat though it isn’t hard. Most are empty this early in the morning. You hug your bag in your lap and watch the streets pass by as the driver chugs along, stopping and starting until your reach the core of the old city.
You nearly miss your transfer and sit breathless on the second bus, measuring your heartbeat until it’s calm again. The close you get, the worse your nerves are. The last interview you had was for this very opportunity. Just to go on exchange, you had to sit in front of a panel and answer questions about why and how and so many things. You can do it, right?
The third bus takes you into the hills, lush green against the grey blue sky, some rocky peaks in the distance. The landscape here is rich and varying. Back home, you can find a similar spectrum of backdrops but the distance in between is vast.
Last stop on the route before it circles around and you get off with a thanks to the driver. You step onto the gravel apron of the back road and check your phone. You don’t have a signal up here but you have the directions saved. Just in case. You follow the steps up towards your destination. It’s not easy to miss as the old fortress stands sentinel at the top of the jutting incline.
Kastali Castle. A bit redundant upon translation; ‘Castle Castle’. In your research, you discovered that the fort was built on a millenial foundation of an old viking village, since updated over the centuries by warlords and kings, and burnt many times over by invaders. You shuffle through the history in your head, trying to sort the timeline as you approach the low stone barrier along the lower tier of the property.
The gate is open. On the other side, sheep graze lazily across the grass. You’ve learned since your arrival that the creatures have free reign of the countryside. They may eat and wander where they might. You stop to fawn at a younger lamb. The animals can be a bit ornery but they’re cute.
You turn back, looking up at the high foundations and carry on along the steep path. As you get to the large wooden door that would let you through the tall inner walls, you hesitate. You can’t just let yourself in but you don’t know where to go. You check your phone, thinking to call the number in the email but your bars are still empty.
“Invaders, ho!” A holler breaks the earthly hue and you step back to look up at where the voice erupted from. There’s a figure above you, so high you have to crane your neck painfully. You continue to back up until you can see the man above. “Are you lost, fair maiden? Or do you come upon a quest?”
You blink, nearly giggling at his flowery way of speaking. His accent lilts his words peculiarly.
“Um, I have an interview,” you yell back up, the effort making your throat thrum. You’re not much for raising your voice. “With, er,” you look down at your phone. You hadn’t saved the email.
“Harald,” he calls back down, “yes, he is expecting you.”
The man disappears and you stare up into the sky after him. You can hear creaking and cracking then silence. You lower your head and look straight ahead, waiting. The arched door opens with a long whine and the same man appears before you, his cheeks slightly flushed as he gives a crooked grin. His weathered skin is marked with blue black ink along one side of his face. A nordic symbol you can’t decipher.
“It is I, Harald,” he offers his hand, “the keeper of Kastali.”
“Oh, uh,” you shake his hand and give your name in return.
“Lovely name, lovely,” he squeezes before he lets you go, “and a curious accent I here. American? No, no, speak for me again.”
You blink at him dumbly, “um, okay, I don’t know what to say, sir.”
“Irish,” he jabs his finger into the air. “I hear the twang.”
“No, sir,” you laugh, “Canadian.”
“Ah, the great north,” he booms, “yes, I see. Forgive my assumptions.”
“It’s okay,” you grip your bag and shift your weight nervously. “Thank you for the interview, sir, this place is really cool.”
“Interview?” He squints, “is that what I said? No, no, you’re hired.”
“What?”
“I’m afraid I don’t have time for an interview,” he shakes his head, “I need help. Forthwith.”
“Oh, right, maybe I misread--”
“Let’s forget that, unless...” his brows rise and his forehead lines, “you do not want the job?”
“No, no, I do,” you assure him, “I just wasn’t expecting to start today.”
“Yes, you are not dressed well for chasing away Gustav.”
“Gustav?” You echo.
“You will know him. He is a dark cloud on this place. If you do run into him, well, run in the other direction,” he girds, “well then,” he moves to stand with his back to the door, holding it open, “let’s begin with the tour, the we will worry about all else.”
“Oh, sure, um, right. Cool,” you pass through the door and he eases the door shut behind him. As the old brass latch clanks, you wince.
“Wow,” you look around at the interior walls, “it’s so big. It must be a lot of work. How many people work here?”
He laughs heartily and claps his hand on his chest, “just me. Well, you too, now.”
“Just you?” You gape over at him. It’s only then your notice that his hair is much longer than you thought. It hangs, bounded in golden hoops, down his back, much like an ancient warrior fashion.
“The king of my own castle,” he winks over at you, “let’s not waste any more time. We have much to do.”
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August 14th 1040 saw King Duncan I killed in battle at Pitgaveny by Macbeth. Some sources give the date as 15th.
MacBeth, whose name means ‘son of life,’ was commanding an army of clansmen from the northern province of Moray and Norse allies from the Orkney Islands,.
Duncan was not a successful King and his prestige must have been dealt a severe blow when he suffered defeat during an attempted siege of Durham in 1039. This may have been the trigger for Macbeth, either acting alone or with the knowledge of other nobles, to rebel against the King who lacked the prowess and success expected of a Celtic warlord.
Earlier in 1040 King Duncan led a force into Moray, perhaps to bring a rebellious Macbeth to heel. on August 14th Macbeth defeated and killed Duncan at Pitgaveny near Elgin then moved quickly to Scone where he was inaugurated King in the traditional way at the Moot Hill.
Duncan’s sons Malcolm and Donald Ban were driven into exile. A King’s death at the hands of his own people in this way was not unusual in Celtic society. This was no murder, whatever Shakespeare would have us believe in his fictional work.
In Shakespeare’s defence, he used sources that were not entirely trustworthy and which relied on material dating from the early 14th century. Even modern historians, with better access to contemporary sources, cannot be certain that they have all the facts about Macbeth correct.
Macbeth’s ensuing 17-year reign was largely peaceful, and he was even able to travel to Rome in 1050 to celebrate a papal jubilee.
Shakespeare also altered Macbeth’s death. He has Macduff kill Macbeth in line with the prophecy that he would die when “Great Birnham Wood to high Dunsinane Hill shall come". In reality Macbeth was killed by Duncan's avenging son, Malcolm, who slew him in battle close to Lumphanan in Aberdeenshire.
Shakespeare’s reference to Birnam Wood probably came from Macbeth’s unrelated victory in 1045 over a rebel army near the village of Birnam in Perth and Kinross.
The initial inspiration for Shakespeare's Macbeth is thought to have came from the type of places I myself gain information for some posts, The Chronicles, in this case it is Holinshed's Chronicles, also known as Holinshed's Chronicles of England, Scotland, and Ireland, published in several volumes and two editions, the first edition in 1577, and the second in 1587.
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I've gotta know more about the second century warlord and merlin big natural cocktails
The Second Century Warlord:
Firstly, a disclaimer that I have not tried this one yet. It's purely theoretical so far. This was inspired by the White Gilgamesh and the second century warlord meme and the fact that there's a lot of nice local mead companies in Wales.
50ml mead
100ml beer
Stir in an (ideally old fashioned) glass (with ice if desired)
Merlin Big Naturals
Now this one I can vouch for I fucking love this cocktail. It's simple but delicious. The name is obviously inspired by the Gandalf big naturals meme, with the Merlin bit coming from Merlyn, the Welsh cream liqueur that forms the base of this drink. If you can't get your hands on Merlyn, Baileys or another cream liqueur can be substituted, but I highly recommend Merlyn because it's delicious.
100ml Merlyn (or other cream liqueur)
50ml Amaretto
Stir in an (ideally old fashioned) glass (with ice if desired)
huh these two cocktails are kinda similar
#i love making and inventing cocktails i have a lot of non-memey ones too#cocktails#asks#answers#slut-wizard#rose's ramblings
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i rewatched mad max fury road, so here's a post-apocalyptic AU. more thoughts/info under the cut :P
design stuff:
nami is inspired by a mix of furiosa and her beta design where she had a prosthetic arm and an axe. she was my favorite to draw 100%
second favorite to draw was law, mostly because of the beak mask and his ribcage top.
law's tattoo is. different! from normal, and i had no reason whatsoever to do that, but you can thank this post anyway <3
i had a hard time deciding on what luffy's weapon of choice would be but i settled on a bastardization of the gauntlets in fire emblem.
luffy's little coat thing is basically ripped 1:1 from his outfit in the 3d2y movie because i just think it's cute tbh
au stuff:
i feel like this au would be able to work fairly similarly to canon, just with a desert instead of an ocean.
in the place of ships they'd just have tricked out cars/war rigs like in mad max. franky and usopp maintain the sunny still of course.
the details of the apocalypse itself are kinda irrelevant, but in my head it's probably something similar to whatever the world government pulled during the void century. either way it happened LONG before any of the current characters were born.
the warlords can pretty easily translate over, as can the emperors, into. well. warlords! except the former work with the remaining government to some extent.
the government does still exist, but they kinda don't have a lot of control over the open desert, especially far away from settlements. army enforcers still patrol around, though.
part of me wants to still call the marines 'the marines' because i think it's funny in a desert! unless i can think of a better name that's probably what i'll go with.
next up will most likely be sanji, robin, zoro + a bonus worst generation member (i'm leaning towards kid). i also want to do an ASL piece at some point. hopefully i have time to draw them all because i have SOOOO many ideas...if anyone else has thoughts or ideas of their own, PLEASE let me know in the tags/comments!! i absolutely love reading them. <3
#one piece#monkey d. luffy#trafalgar law#nami#usopp#one piece fanart#straw hat luffy#one piece au#op fanart#op luffy#op law#op nami#op usopp#post apocalypse#ahh so many tags...i have two more though i'm sorry T.T#my art!#digital art
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first day as the ghost valley master
found this in my drafts, unfinished, and I don't have the motivation to complete it so yall can have it as is. if you don't know what this is referencing look up "second century warlord" you won't be disappointed
***
first day as the ghost valley master I kill the old valley master and show his decapitated head to my new subjects to inspire fear but I'm standing very high up on a hill and they're in the valley below so they can't see what I'm holding and kinda just squint at me
second day as the ghost valley master it turns out ruling the ghost valley sucks so I take my sister and go out in the jianghu to cause chaos and mayhem and get revenge, but my sister gets into a fistfight with a guy disguising himself as a beggar. I think he's sus so I decide to flirt with him and follow him around to uncover his motives
third day as the ghost valley master my minions attack the manor of one of the major sects to get back the piece of glazed armor I pretended to have had stolen from me. the sus beggar sees me at the scene of the crime but doesn't make a big deal out of it, so maybe he's an okay guy. the whole sect is killed except for the youngest son, who the sus beggar and I are now co-parenting. my sister laughs at me
fourth day as the ghost valley master we are taking the orphaned kid to his uncle and now I'm flirting with the sus beggar forreal. we get attacked by actual beggars who want the orphan for themselves and I let my sus beggar fight them off on his own so I can enjoy the sight. turns out he has an internal illness that fucks up his martial arts so he's understandably mad at me. I save the day at the last moment and destroy the actual beggars
fifth day as the ghost valley master my suspicions are confirmed. the sus beggar was wearing a disguise to conceal his identity and his ethereal beauty. turns out he's my old shixiong that I knew for like a day before I got kidnapped by the ghost valley and I'm not really sure how to cope with this. also we dropped the orphan off with his uncle and I kinda miss having a son. I tell my sister to sneak into the orphan's uncle's sect and keep an eye on him
sixth day as the ghost valley master my sus no-longer beggar and I are going on a bunch of dates and stumble upon a piece of the glazed armor. I'm ready to be disappointed, thinking he'll want it for himself just like everyone else, but instead he says it only brings trouble and gifts it to me to do whatever I want with it. what I really want to do with it is revenge, so I have thirty copies of it ordered and incite people to fight to death over them. my no-longer beggar confronts me, and I point to his own past crimes to show the hypocrisy of this. we break up and I leave to get plastered
seventh day as the ghost valley master after breaking up and making up a couple more times, my sus non-beggar bf and I are on the road again with our orphaned son who we kidnapped from his uncle. we meet a weird old guy who claims he can cure my sus non-beggar bf's illness, but it comes at the cost of his martial arts so my bf refuses and we fight about it. I wonder what the point is in achieving my goals and getting revenge if I'm going to lose the man I love
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Whenever people bring up the Second Century Warlord post I'm like 'they (probably) don't even know it's about Romance of the Three Kingdoms, which inspired many deriviative works *coughs* fanfiction *coughs* such as the video games series Dynasty Warriors, both of which have been long term special interests of mine and have had a big impact on the person I ended up becoming, up to and including my studying Chinese history, language, and culture... They don't even know I have a whole side blog dedicated to that where I make stupid, extremely niche memes and research posts about it... They don't even know... *stares out the window wistfully as I wish I could info dump about it more and that it was more widely known about in the West*
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THE INFERNAL CORONATION
The Demon Queen Allarielle was not always as such. Once she was an angel, mighty and pure. Before that, she was a human, tenacious and brave. But what vile forces conspired to turn her from the light?
This tale tells of how the noble Allara was betrayed, manipulated and eventually became a greater evil than those who sought to use her...
(This is one of my oldest stories from when I first started, I considered re-writing it. But I think it's important to keep it as it was for posterity)
Once upon a time, the underworlds and their denizens were anarchic and lawless, bound to no ruler after the siege of heaven and resulting angelic crusades saw the demonic kings and warlords slain in battle. Those who survived were broken and cast out, their once organised legions scattered across the hells. For what seemed an eternity, the angels of heaven raided the underwolds and slaughtered the demons wherever they found them.
On the verge of extinction, demonkind staked it's future on a desperate gamble. It was in this darkest hour, that from the ashes of defeat, a new future was born. This is the tale of the mightiest ruler of the underworlds, the Demon Queen Alarielle and her unlikely origin...
* * *
Before her ascension to Angelhood, Allara had been a mortal woman. Blue eyed and with hair the colour of a fiery sunset, she could have been the fairest of maidens in her time. However she was of lowly birth and born into hardship. Instead of learning the ways of a diplomat or courting handsome princes, she chopped wood for her family and tended the fields with her father. Instead of practicing fine arts, she grappled with cattle and mastered the bow before she could read.
This simple life was shattered when a barbarian warlord put her village and het parent's farm to the sword. With tears in her eyes and fire in her heart, Allara took up arms against the barbarian horde. With weapons and armour scavenged from the slaughtered town guards, Allara led the survivors in a desperate last stand. So keen was her grasp of strategy and so inspiring was her presence, the fight dragged on gor hours and eventually days. Wave after wave of attackers fell victim to the traps she had the survivors set or a well-executed ambush.
What should have been a lightning raid by the barbarians ground to a halt. Ill-equipped and unaccustomed to siege warfare, the barbarians struggled against Allara and her ragtag band of fighters for weeks before finally fleeing when an army of noble Templars arrived to relieve the village. Awed by the young woman's prowess, the Templars offered to induct Allara into her ranks.
With nothing left to lose, Allara pledged herself to their service without a second thought. For years, tales of the fiery paladin inspired hope and faith where there had been none for centuries. Whole armies and cities rallied behind Allara as she journeyed the land with her brethren, protecting the weak and slaying the wicked, never asking for anything in return.
So great had her influence become, the church grew to fear that the young paladin's power might one day threaten their own. So they conspired against Allara, champion of the people. Carefully, they orchestrated her demise. They sought out and covertly empowered the warlord who led the first attack on Allara's village. Equipping his troops with weapons and armour, sponsoring mercenaries to swell their ranks and turning him loose on the world once more.
Finally, the church sent a group of travelling priests and pilgrims into a barbarian ambush, baiting Allara and her followers into engaging the warlord and his horde.
Unlike the previous battle, this was swift and decisive. Allara did not arrive in time to save the travellers and swore an oath to end the warlord once and for all. At the height of battle the two warriors met and fought for an intense three minutes, their blades whirling around one another as they sought to find their mark. Eventually they both succumbed to fatigue and blood loss, scoring dozens of flesh wounds before slaying one another.
Allara's followers mourned her and proclaimed the fallen Templar was now a Saint. Splitting from the church to form their own holy order, they buried her in secret and went on to practice her teachings and live by her example. All the while, these events were observed by eyes from beyond the mortal realm. Though Heaven had claim to Allara's soul and wasted no time reforging her into an Angel of war, the denizens of hell made plans of their own for the fallen saint...
* * *
Upon becoming an Angel, Allara awoke to find herself bathed in holy light that warmed every inch of the form her essence seemed to be taking. She was already taller, stronger than she had been as a human.
Six feathered wings sprouted from her back, each twice as long as she was tall. Despite her new strength, her limbs were slender, supple, graceful. Her stomach was perfectly flat, her breasts luscious and full. Her hair became a glorious mane of golden hair that seemed to stretch all the way down past her hips.
She felt the warmth around her become increasingly solid before forming into a silky white body suit that hugged her figure. Golden amour shaped like her wings formed around her forearms and shins that seemed to hold itself in place without any belt or strap to hold it. A pair of similar armour pieces cupped her breasts and sheathed her shoulders. Finally, an eyeless golden half helmet with an ornate cross stamped upon its brow, slid over her head, leaving her hair trailing out from underneath and her mouth and neck the only exposed skin on her new body.
Despite the eyeless helm, Allara could see perfectly, as if everything around her emanated an aura outlining what it was, as well as where it was moving to or from. That was a little disorienting at first, as was the sudden rush of knowledge and awareness as the collected wisdom of heaven filled her with understanding beyond mortal comprehension. In an instant, she understood what she was and why, the full extent of her angelic duties and her capabilities.
With a thought, she conjured an ornate golden bow and a fabulous crystal broadsword in either hand. Her first great task would be to rescue the souls of those slain by the warlord who slew her. Without proper burial, their souls had been dragged to hell and it would be Allara's duty to recover them.
* * *
Alllara had made quite the name for herself in the underworlds as she pursued the lost souls she sought. Slaying greater demons with contemptuous ease, scattering whole communes of demons as she tore their broken realm asunder. So fearsome was she that some demons simply handed over the souls rather than risk her ire. It did not spare them. Alllara was righteous and absolute, every demonic entity that crossed her was slaughtered, every soul she rescued was held safe within her and she grew stronger with every follower she recovered. With barely a half dozen pilgrims and a priest left to recover, her hunt had brought her to the abyssal boneyard.
This nightmarish corner of hell was one of it's darkest corners, said to be the place where the creator's greatest champion slew the old masters of hell. Now their bones littered the landscape, their foul ichor soaked into the very ground, tainting the place with an aura of corruption and despair. It was here that Allara could sense the last priest. Somewhere amidst the rubble and bones, like a dull ache in her forehead, she could sense the tortured soul's pain and anguish. None of the others had been quite so unfortunate as to fall victim to whatever loathsome scavengers dwelt here.
So vile was the aura of this place that Allara could feel rescued souls within her straining to escape and flee. Her heart was heavy with suffering she could feel within them, though that merely assured her of how important it was to rescue the remaining few and spare them any further torment. She could feel the aching sensation grow stronger as she glided down a great canyon that had once been the ribcage of shys'hyth the despoiler, an ancient beast that once threatened to breach the pearly gates themselves.
She was so close now that were she capable of forming tears, she'd have wept for the loneliness and pain she could feel from the priest's soul. On the mountain formed from the semi-buried shoulder of shys'hyth, she found him. The priest's astral body was broken and torn open, light spilling out and dissipating as the spectre writhed in pain.
“rejoice ye of faith” sang her voice, as soothing and majestic as her visage
“do not despair, your suffering is at its end, I pray thou can forgive me for not rescuing you sooner” she whispered as she drew close
“oh... bless. Bless you my sweet saviour” cried the priest, his body slowly reforming as Allara drew close, her very presence healing him almost immediately. He beckoned her closer, incorporeal tears of jpy streaming down his face.
“come, we must go, we cannot linger in this unholy place” she urged, her voice still every bit as harmonious despite the very real possibility of danger. She couldn't sense anything nearby but the rescued souls within her were growing restless.
“weak, still so weak. I'm sorry I do not have the strength to go on” he lamented, his form beginning to fragment and dissipate once more.
“then it is fortunate I have strength enough for us both” whispered Allara, opening a magical link to the priest's soul, trickling a slither of her essence into him so that he could be strengthened and stabilized enough so that she could collect him as she had the others. She felt awful for how badly he must have suffered to need such aid. She'd done similar for some of the others who had been hurt, but they had taken almost nothing compared to how much the priest was draining off her. Allara leaned close hugged the priest tightly so they his soul would dissolve into her like the others. He hugged her back, his grip growing stronger as his strength returned to him. Something was amiss, he was stable enough, he should have joined the others by now.
Allara tried to pull away but his grip was deceptively strong. She tried to look him in the eye but before she could speak, he pressed his mouth to hers. Slowly, passionately, his lips worked against hers. A strange impulse seemed to seize Allara as for the briefest moment, she leaned into the kiss and reciprocated. Something strange seemed to stir in her soul as if the rescued souls were encouraging her. Shame and horror began to set in as she began to realize how improper her behaviour was. As she tried to pull away, she felt priest vomit a torrent of slimy black liquid straight into her mouth.
She gagged and coughed as she tried to scream but no sound escaped her. She could still feel the soul bond between her and the priest, what had been a carefully released trickle was now pouring into him like a raging river. It was as if he was sucking away at her very essence but that should have been impossible? It took all her strength to pull her lips from his, spluttering and hacking as she tried to get rid of the slime, yet it was as if it had already vanished down her throat. Allara felt dizzy as she looked up to see not the priest standing before her, but the warlord who slew her mortal form. He released his grip on her and let her stumble backwards. Her wings twitched as Allara fought to regain her balance.
“y-you... how?” she stammered between coughing, her body still trying to reject whatever it was that it had just ingested.
“not quite... but I'm sure he missed you all the same” cackled the warlord, his mouth twisted into a devilish toothy grin to reveal thousands of thin fangs in place of human teeth. Allara had never once been intoxicated in her mortal or afterlife, she wondered if that was what could be happening to her now. She shook her head as if she could physically shake off what was influencing her. She could feel her soul churning, something wasn't right, the rescued souls seem to be enjoying this. Could a soul be turned to poison, she wondered? As if it had read her mind, the warlord thing answered her question.
“it took a while to prepare them, but eventually they were all too willing to join us. As was this thing and your precious preacher. We waited so long for you my dear but I assure you it was worth it” Allara still couldn't break the soul bond and knew she had to if she was to escape, her strength was waning and she could feel her limbs getting heavier. Maybe if she kept him talking a little longer... besides, she needed to know what had been done to her.
“so you're a demon now” she spat
“hardly. I am echoes that found a voice” replied the warlord. So shocked was Allara earlier on, she hadn't noticed the Warlord was stark naked...and surprisingly attractive. Allara felt something within her tugging at her, a warmth that seemed to drown out her other bodily sensations the more she stared at the warlord’s cock.
“I... I am so sorry for whatever has been done to you... but if you'll let me, I can help you” she pleaded, the tugging sensation grew stronger, she needed more time to break the bond.
“that is the plan my dear” growled the warlord before pouncing on her and knocking them both to the ground. Allara had never felt so weak and helpless, pinned beneath the warlord. Her dizziness had intensified and she felt barely in control of her body. She weakly tried to kick at the warlord and missed, but much to her surprise, she kept her leg up past his waist. When she tried to bring it down, her leg folded around his waist. Were the souls she rescued influencing her actions or was it the black sludge she'd swallowed? She tried to push and shove at him, but she'd grown so weak that it felt as if she was rubbing his chest rather than shoving. Or was that just what she was doing? His skin felt pleasant and oddly soothing to the touch...
The tugging sensation was unbearable now, Allara tried to look him in the eye and when her gaze met those pitch black orbs, it was if a whirlpool opened up in her soul as she felt him mentally pulling her in... without warning, Allara kissed him. Their lips met and clashed, duelling with the same intensity as they had once traded blows with Sword and shield. Allara reasoned she could atone for this at a later time, but in her heart she knew if she didn't stop, she'd face damnation for such a terrible sin. She tried to pull away but the warlord creature was relentless, his lips never leaving hers as she began to relax back into reciprocating.
There was no denying it, she enjoyed the kissing tremendously Allara's heart fluttered when he laid his hand on her stomach and began to caress her side. Spurred on by the stroking, she kissed him harder, welcoming his tongue into her mouth. She squeaked a little when she felt his claws scrape at her suit, tearing it open to expose her flesh to the cold air of the abyss. She felt his hand slide through the tear and stroke the flesh beneath, eliciting a delighted groan as his gand found the rump of her ass and begin to squeeze it. His lips began to move down to her neck and Allara gasped for hair, her mind felt so clouded and chaotic. None of this should be happening, yet she could feel the rescued souls revelling in her pleasure, goading her on to keep allowing it.
“this your idea of torture...?” she rasped as the warlord nibbled and sucked at her neck. The warlord did not answer, instead he slid his hand out from under her suit and moved it to her crotch. His fingers deftly stroked at her mons and down towards her entrance. She could feel warmth building in her lower body as if it welcomed the attention. Slowly, his talons began tearing at the fabric and Allara gasped as she felt him brushing against her slit.
“no dear, you're not here to be tortured. Would you like to see what you are here for?” whispered the warlord in her ear. His voice made her giddy and her cheeks blush
“yes... god yes” she crooned. Immediately, his fingers plunged into her, wiggling and stroking. Allara leaned back and gasped as his fingers explored her virgin pussy. The way his fingers worked at her passage, spreading her open and massaging her inner walls. It was awakening a terrible yearning in her for something more. The stimulation didn't just pleasure her, it made her keep wanting it and that arousal was becoming so overpowering that whatever fears or inhibitions she once had, they seemed a distant memory now. She wailed when his forefinger found her clit and deftly slid around and over it, stroking her in such a pleasurable manner that her toes curled and her wings twitched.
“would you like more?” whispered the warlord. Horns had begin to sprout from his forehead while spikes and a tail had burst through the skin on his back. Allara knew this was wrong, but she nodded anyway. She watched with fascination as the warlord moved his head between her legs and pressed his lips to her sopping wet entrance and sucked. Allara cried out with shock and delight as her hips bucked against his mouth. She clenched her fists, trying to get a hold of herself, but the warlord's tongue felt like it was working magic within her slit. She threw her head from side to side, howling and groaning as his tongue tickled her clit. She was dimly aware her golden armour was losing its lustre and turning the colour of beaten iron the more she revelled in this carnal exercise. Wisdom told her to stop before she was too far gone, but the sensations she was experiencing urged her to keep going.
Allara reached down and gripped the horns sprouting from the Warlord’s head and used them to pull him against her hips as she bucked and grinded, taking his tongue impossibly deep into her. She moaned as a new sensation washed over her, as if her every nerve ending was bursting with ecstasy. Allara thrashed as his tongue found her clit, his hands firmly gripping her thighs and holding her in place as he drove her over the brink of orgasm.
Allara was speechless as he stood up and brandished his cock as if it were a weapon he were about to draw.
“yes... you're ready for us” proclaimed the warlord, although precious little if his human form remained, his skin ripped and torn as the demonic entity within shed him like a snake shedding it's skin.
“Ready..? To drain... me? To finish... you?” she stammered, the last rational part of her fighting to understand what was happening to her and what would come next. “oh you'll finish us. We'll all be complete very soon. Just not how you might be thinking dear” chuckled the demon warlord thing. Slowly at first, it stroked it's cock. Allara's lips quivered as she watched it grow in length and girth, standing upright as it swelled in his grip. Allara wondered how that would feel in hsr pussy, how it might stimulate and please her. She imagined it was her folds and not the creature's hand that the cock slid back and forth in and it filled her with overwhelming lust, yet she was too weak to stand.
“open wide” chuckled the creature as it's cock began to twitch before suddenly squirting a torrent of black sludge over Allara. She shrieked at the icy cold liquid splattering across her crotch and chest as the demon continued to cackle triumphantly. More and more of the thick black ooze spurted from the demon's throbbing cock. She writhed and fought to scramble away, yet the slime was so unnaturally heavy she was pinned to the ground. She could feel the slime move as if it were alive and trying to spread itself over her body. As the ooze found the tears in her suit, it slid beneath and spread over every inch of skin. She could feel it slithering into her ass and pussy, permeating ever inch of her body and sending her into convulsions.
“long live the queen” smirked the demon before unloading a final load on Allara's face and her world went cold and dark.
* * *
It was like being reforged as an angel all over again and yet it was the complete opposite. Allara could see nothing and felt only freezing numbness. She was aware her soul was being pulled apart to let something else pour into her. Like becoming an angel, she could feel her mind altering to accept a flood of mew knowledge and thought processes. At first she feared she was being replaced, but the longer this went on it was more like her being was expanded.
She understood now that while demonic overlords of old had been destroyed in body, their essence had lingered in the abyssal boneyard. Over millennia, this residue had collected and merged into a shapeless, disembodied entity containing the power and memories of the vanquished demons and eventually every other lost soul that lingered in the boneyard for too long. Slowly it had gathered its folowers, weak-willed demon's and mortals it could influence with subliminal messages and what little psychic control it could perform.
The perfect mortal candidates were identified to form a trap and Allara had walked right into it – just as intended. The souls she rescued had all been corrupted a certain way so as to function like a trojan horse, only revealing their true nature once Allara came into contact with the warlord and deliberately weakening her resistance to his advances.
The warlord and the priest had both been assimilated by the residual entity, it had promised them power, everlasting life and revenge on the woman responsible for their demise. It just hadn't told them how With the strength Allara unintentionally gave the entity with her soul bond, she'd strengthened it enough to let it physically manifest while at the same time, giving it an entrance to her very soul.
Now it physically cocooned her and filled her, bonding to every ounce of her being on a microscopic level. This was better than becoming an angel, despite the cold, Allara had never felt so alive. With an orgasmic cry that shattered the darkness, the last vestige of Allara died blissfully and she awoke as something else entirely.
* * *
Allarielle moaned with delight as the black slime cocooning her, tightened around her body. Forming a shiny, black skin-tight coating. While she'd slept, the angel's armour had disintegrated in the slime. All except her helmet, which now bulged and burst at the temples and forehead as several immense horns had begun to sprout from it. Her hair was still blonde and full, but her wings had turned grey and still dripped with traces of black slime. She was almost complete but not quite. Looking up, she saw the demon that had transformed, her still stroking it's fat cock. That wasn't right. He should be gone, every ounce of essence was supposed to be in her now. Unless...
“little warlord” she purred, her voice now smooth and sultry “is that you hiding in there?” she teased, shifting onto her side to showcase her voluptuous new figure.
“glorious... aren't we?” he purred back “did I not tell you I would conquer all? Now I have conquered death and you. I will rule the afterlife with you as my bride, my greatest achievement” Unbelievable, she thought. The vile little worm honestly believed he had outwitted the demonic entity that permitted his very existence. Granted it was remarkable he'd been able to retain his identity and a portion of the power meant for Allarielle. But pride comes before the fall, she mused. It would not take much for her to claim the last of her newfound power, rid the underworld of him an humiliate him one last time. A fitting way to complete her coronation.
“then you should claim your reward and consummate our union, your highness” she moaned, spreading her legs to invite him in. Foolishly, he obliged. Grabbing her ankle, he pulled her under him. Allarielle’s crimson lips twisted into a wicked grin, as much as she loathed being handled like that it amused her greatly to let the warlord believe he was in control.
Cupping her head in his hands, he pressed her face against his cock. Allarielle giggled and gave it a long, sensual stroke with her tongue. She offered no resistance when he pushed her down on his cock, the monstrous shaft pressing against the back of her throat while she sucked at it, her tongue continuing to work at it with inhuman vigor eliciting orgasmic moans from the warlord. For hours, she suckled at him, her slick black bodysuit flowing off her like melting wax, exposing her chest and crotch – blatantly inviting him into her. After fondling her breasts and pussy, the warlord couldn't resist any longer and plunged his cock into her vagina and howled with delight. No longer the weakened victim she had been as Allara, Allarielle chuckled and rolled the beast onto his back, straddling him.
The warlord groaned frequently as she rode him, her hips expertly gyrating as she milked his cock. As she did, she reached across the soul bond and seized him, ripping his essence free and dragging into her own. The warlord screamed as he realised what was happening, his cock jerked and spat black slime into Allarielle's womb. As it did, his flesh began to wither and pull taught over his skeleton. He begged and grovelled as her hips rocked, draining every ounce of demonic essence and his own like a vacuum.
Allarielle’s skin slowly turned snow white, her hair lightening to a platinum blonde and writhing in the air with a life of it's own. Her horns grew longer, arching back over her head. As tge ritual drew close to it's completion, her body suit reformed, spreading over her and the warlord. His last memory was the demon queen laughing maniacally as he faded away, his whole existence merged into her, leaving behind only the slender demoness and no trace of anyone else. She was whole now. Infused with the collected spirits of hell's greatest rulers, housed in the corrupted flesh of an Angel, Allarielle was complete. The first of her name, mistress of the underworld and undisputed ruler of demonkind. Allarielle cackled to herself, she had an empire to build. Now the real fun could begin
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Name Change, Planets, and De Coelesti Hierarchia
Zaviér Mukalayi
Shaped like sparks of light, virtues are in charge of maintaining the natural world, and they inspire living things in areas such as science. They also take orders from the angels above and convert them into miracles for the deserving. When they make themselves known to us in their earthly forms, they are musicians, artists, healers and scientists who work with the power of love, as well as physics. The two angels at the ascension of Jesus are believed to have been virtues.
Warlord-ism:
Nevertheless, their grip on natural resources and industrial infrastructure provide them with enough revenue of their own to carve out some room for maneuver.
Les Îles Vanille Franc Zone Économique Infrastructure: Privative-Publié Secteur, Pink Lab Made Diamonds, Winter Agronomique, Commodités Option Exchange, Coffee Liqueur; Diamonds; Graffiti Underwriting-Auction, Art Ports, Art Gallérie, Graffiti Cinématographique Film Festival.
Heavenly Jérusalem Naturel Resources: Potatoes; Pig; Rabbit; et Duck Agriculture, D-Asparatic Acid Food Sources, Dead Sea Mud, Salt Water, Honey, Collégien, Passionflower, Casio-Citizen Watch*; Sony*; Rotesierrie Oven Minérales, Eco-fleece, et Aluminium.
Planets
Venus
Love, balance, marriage, romance, money, beauty, inspiration, gratitude, touch, look
The Sun
Father, boss, actor, husband, life, day, light, health, willpower, stomach, center, confidence
Mars
Sports, meat, guns, aggression, anger, head, iron, soldier, warrior, hate, passion, sex
Économique Centrale Planning
Laissez-Faire Économie
Laissez-faire is an economic theory from the 18th century that opposed any government intervention in business affairs. The driving principle behind laissez-faire, a French term that translates to "leave alone" (literally, "let you do"), is that the less the government is involved in the economy, the better off business will be, and by extension, society as a whole.
Physiocracy
Physiocracy (French: physiocratie; from the Greek for "government of nature") is an economic theory developed by a group of 18th-century Age of Enlightenment French economists who believed that the wealth of nations derived solely from the value of "land agriculture" or "land development" and that agricultural products should be highly priced.[1] Their theories originated in France and were most popular during the second half of the 18th century. Physiocracy became one of the first well-developed theories of economics.
Tableau Économique
Quesnay believed that trade and industry were not sources of wealth, and instead in his 1758 manuscript Tableau économique (Economic Table) argued that agricultural surpluses, by flowing through the economy in the form of rent, wages, and purchases were the real economic movers.
PARADIS MINUIT
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Being spooky season let’s take a look at one of the spookier redesigns I’ve done.
Bludgeon at first was more an urban legend than a person. An ancient warrior from a long dead era who fought in a vicious war. It was brutal and he was responsible for hundreds of casualties, Some say he’s still out there, wandering the abandoned battlefield, waiting for a hapless cybertronian to get to close so he may strike. A Cybertronian boogie man basically. At the start of the war Megatron plucked him from that battlefield and brought him into the decepticon ranks. Being both physically and mentally broken he didn’t have any say in the matter, partially due to a damaged voice box, and was placed on battlefields to commit horrific senseless violence, while striking fear with his almost lifeless optics. He fought for several more centuries, with the promise of being rebuild being dangled over him like a carrot on a string, until he was left for dead after a major loss. He was found however, by the warlord Deathsaurus, who took him back to his outpost. There bludgeon spoke properly for the first time in centuries saying how all he can hear is screaming. How he doesn’t know what peace even looks like anymore due to all that he’s done, all that he’s been a part of. Deathsaurus seeing this broken soul takes him in giving him a choice of what he will do with his life from there on out, and upon being rebuilt, he chooses to remain under Deathsaurus, only to fight when he absolutely must as he works to heal his broken soul.
So design wise, the first one is bludgeon for a majority of this hypothetical story. A withered decrepit figure held together by wires and malice. I wanted to make something that would be the last thing you’d want to see at the end of a dark hallway and I think it gets the point across. He isn’t based in any particular design he’s had in the past, I was mostly going for my own thing.
The second design is him rebuilt. A whole new bot. I conveyed that not only with a rebuilt and re armored frame but with brighter colors from the first design which had much darker versions of all the same colors. Again with him it’s pretty much an original design. I wasn’t really drawing any inspiration from any design in particular.
Feedback is appreciated and encouraged
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do you think the village where Uzui was born and raised is not on that kind of map because the location of a ninja village has to be hidden? I know it's a bit silly question but when I saw that in that map there were all the places where the other columns live and not the position of Uzui I thought wtf maybe it's because the position of a ninja village is hidden and unknown to the common people (???) from the last official databook we know that there really is a ninja village
In general, yes, I think it's because the ninja village location was kept totally secret from the general public. The "unknown" almost seems like a joke on the readers, like, "duh, THEY'RE NINJA, they hiiiiide."
But while we're on the ninja topic, hey! Uzui's Dad! What in tarnation were you thinking!!? Not gonna go that in depth, but let's talk about how Tengen's experience is not the ninja norm, and being hidden was probably a huge matter for the Uzui clan.
First off, let me break your heart: THERE WERE NEVER ANY REAL NINJA.
(Yes, go ahead, cry. Just two days ago I learned that the use of short swords with square hilts to set against walls and kick off of to start climbing was only fiction that got accepted as the ninja-loving public’s collective headcanon. I was....... naive............)
Or at least, it’s complicated. There is a sort of fanon image of ninja which took over the public consciousness throughout Edo and Meiji popular culture, long after (as Daki pointed out) there weren’t really any ninja villages left. Besides purely “wouldn’t that be badass” ideas and “hey, let’s make the Kabuki stagehands the ninja, that’d be theatrical” conventions, it’s also a matter of different specialized roles and skills having been spread out across wider groups of people who worked alongside or against the local warlords in the Sengoku/Warring States era, and they all just wound up getting clumped together into the idea we hold so dearly today of the ninja badass.
But, accepting that the super-awesome-special-cool ninja is not quite reality but the standard in most ninja-related lore and culture, let’s think a bit more about the people who most closely lived up to the ninja image.
While not the only ones, the most notable ninja villages were in Iga and Koga (in modern day Mie and Shiga prefectures, close enough to each other that you can wake your friends up early and announce that you’re taking them on a surprise day of ninja training and hit both spots before the museums close). The goal of these villages was to survive as local jerklords like Oda Nobunaga were raising hell and saying, ‘yeah, I want all these Warring States for myself. While they did enact guerilla work tactics that made their territory difficult (but ultimately not impossible) to take over, they also worked with enemies of their enemies by working as spies to collect and pass on information. And sure, yeah, maybe assassinations were helpful sometimes and it helped to have tools ready to defend yourself if you ran into anybody in the dark.
But they didn’t go on these missions all the time. Most of the time, they had to eat. They had to farm. They spend a lot of time farming. And since the whole village needed to eat, they spent a lot of time farming together.
And yeah, the fact that they just looked like normal farmers was their greatest cover, and they did it well because they were farmers.
So then you get Mr. Uzui’s “only the strong eat” ideas and I’m like, “...sir???”
We can very, very easily place the Uzui clan’s ninja background in the realm of OUT AND OUT TOTAL FICTION OF SUPER-AWESOME-SPECIAL-COOL style ninja, the stoic ones who an inspiration to us all when we need to pull off a smooth kill. But, I question, what is their clans’ motivation for continuing to exist? If he’s fine with killing off the majority of his potential heirs, despite the callous culture of having lots of wives for the sake of producing many, many heirs, then pure and simple clan survival is not the goal. If it’s to be the strongest among other potential rival ninja clans, then having a bunch of your strongest members kill each other off is also not a way to do that. Also, if (again) clan survival is the goal, and your clan is doing so poorly that you can only afford to feed a small number of your members, you’re not farming right.
So where did the Uzui clan go so wrong?
Let’s keep roughly the same timeline of close-knit villages trying to survive when harassed and slaughtered by samurai warlords and having to go underground throughout the entirety of the Edo period, but look at a different group: the Christian converts.
The same might had happened in the Uzui clan, warped by centuries of direness to stay hidden, and nursing some regrets of not having been strong enough in the past, or perhaps, for having been too soft and affectionate and humanitarian and everything Mr. Uzui hated and wished to quash in his surviving children.
Although Christianity was gaining popularity in the time (what we now think of as) ninja were active, it was pretty effectively outlawed and squelched in the early Edo period, but pockets of it stayed alive. Often the villages would all make the choice together whether to be martyred or to deny their faith and keep it underground, and those who kept it underground retained it with a remarkable degree of fervency, so much so that when missionaries were later allowed back into Japan they were impressed with how well the Jesuits’ teachings had been retained.
However, the “Hidden Christians” had also grown into their own culture, and gained an identity somewhat warped by the experience of being so hidden, and for carrying the shame of their ancestors for having been cowardly and publicly denying the faith. This unique shame-shaped denomination of sorts is small, but can still be found in practice today.
Tengen grew up in a fanatical cult, albeit one with less straightforward motivations that the cult Obanai was born into. While Obanai had a clear understanding of how physically escaping was his only means of physical survival, Tengen and his wives needed to break free of the mindset. As the women in their clan are not supposed to value themselves over their husband, they are dumbfounded when Tengen tells them their lives are the top priority, because this is so contrary to everything they’ve ever been told. The fact that Tengen would assign value to the lives of people who require assistance to protect themselves is also a major affront to everything they’ve grown up knowing, in which their leader (in this case, Mr. Uzui) tells them to kill, then without a second thought, they kill.
With this perverted system of not valuing lives apart from their leaders, it’s unsurprising that core ninja skills like farming would have been lost.
And hell, if Tengen had to completely turn everything he had ever known upside-down in order to escape it, then HELL YEAH, TIME TO DO ANYTHING BUT BE HIDDEN. Maybe he didn’t have it in him to kill his father and remaining younger brother and eliminate the rotten cultish clan for good, but being HELLA FLAMBOYANT is the second best option he’s got to stick it to him.
----
So anyway. Two more thoughts:
1. I’ll bet Zenitsu reads popular fiction and feels like he’s a know-it-all about ninja. But any time he starts to spout something Tengen’s like, “ugh, no, that’s not real, if ninja used swords with square hilt guards they’d jab themselves in the ribs.” and Zenitsu would be like, “...... >: [ “
2. When Tengen presents himself to be in the Demon Slayer Corp’s service, he probably divulges ninja secrets by offering his wives’ expertise in ninja memorization, encoding, and communication techniques for passing super secret spy info.
And Ubuyashiki smiles and says, “That’s nice, but we have birds. ^_^” and Tengen is like, “......>: [ ”
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Second round of Claims
I’ve had one or two people express interest in a second round of claims and so I’m reopening the claims now!
Take a good look and pick 2-3 favourites and remember their Title for when claiming does begin.
If you’d like to check out the art click here for the google doc
Title: Kissing under the fireworks
Description/Prompt: what it says on the tin. Kissing under the fireworks.
This one is a pretty open universe, could be a first kiss, a regular kiss exchanged at New Year's Eve, the fireworks are celebrating that one of them have been crowned King or them finally getting married. Or maybe a romantic proposal at a holiday celebration.
Warnings: None
Limitations: No unhappy/ambiguous ending, no alcoholism (but recovery or past mentions are fine), no watersports (kink)
A/N: The art is not finished I am open to reinterpretation and/or taking the prompt a different way then the one I have outlined or changing the art a bit to better fit the story like Bucky (not) having the arm, short hair or long and similar
*
Title: welcome back / welcome home
Description/Prompt: Bucky pulls Tony into a bone crushing hug, extremely relieved that Tony is back home and alive. Bucky doesn't plan to let him go, ever again.
Open verse, could be a no-power AU, or pre-Afghanistan, or maybe sometime when Tony is IronMan. It could be focusing on Bucky's anguish at not knowing where is Tony if he is alive. Or could be the celebration that Tony is home. Maybe how is their life is being affected after.
Warnings: None
Limitations: No unhappy/ambiguous ending, no alcoholism (but recovery or past mentions are fine), no watersports (kink)
A/N: The art is not finished I am open to reinterpretation and/or taking the prompt a different way then the one I have outlined or changing the art a bit to better fit the story like Bucky (not) having the arm, short hair or long and similar
*
Title: 19th century AU
Prompt: 19th century-vibes AU (or can be Bridgerton AU), with behaving one way in private and another way in public to save face, love, and searching for one's freedom. (Can be ABO or not)
Limitations: dubcon/noncon between the OTP, eye gore, MCD, D/s verse (a normal universe with a D/s relationship is fine though), unhappy ending, pwp. I would prefer if it was not simple love at first sight.
*
Title: Sweethearts
Description/Prompt: Punk!Alpha!Bucky gets into a fight, not on purpose - this time - and while he does win, he gets beaten badly.
He tries to walk it off, but he runs into his Omega classmate Tony who is heading home from a late night lab-session.
Tony sees him and is very adamant to treat Bucky's injuries - he lets slip by accident a couple of details about Bucky, showcasing that he pays more attention to Bucky than a "proper" Omega should.
Tony patches Bucky up, and they fall asleep on the couch, Bucky relaxing after a long while.
They end up becoming friends and Tony offers to tutor Bucky.
They end up falling in love with Tony, and Bucky stops skipping class and getting into so many fights. Though Tony patches him up, every single time.
In the end Bucky's grades improve enough that he finishes in the Top 10 of the class.
Warnings: none
Limitations: No unhappy/ambiguous ending, no alcoholism (but recovery or past mentions are fine), no watersports (kink)
A/N: The art is not finished I am open to reinterpretation and/or taking the prompt a different way then the one I have outlined or changing the art a bit to better fit the story like Bucky (not) having the arm, short hair or long and similar
*
Title: Iron Man Noir AU
Prompt: Iron Man Noir AU with influences from Spider-Man Noir. It is 1939, Tony Stark is undercover in Berlin in his hidden Cabaret, to gather intel, and help where help is needed.
Why is Bucky there? Is he sent for undercover work, ready to meet some secret contact? Is he a Russian spy sent to gather information about America's plans? Or is he just some normal guy who wandered into the wrong Cabaret at the wrong time?
(These are just some ideas for Bucky, if you have others, let's talk! Bucky could be MCU-inspired or comic-inspired, or a mix or something else.)
Limitations: noncon between Bucky and Tony, MCD, ABO, D/s verse (a normal universe with a D/s relationship is fine though), eye gore, eye things in general, unhappy ending, pwp, smoking except pipes.
*
Title: BDSM AU
Description/Prompt: I was definitely thinking praise kink and rope play, but feel free to include others as well. Who is being tied up is the Author's choice, I will adjust the art accordingly (like including Bucky's metal arm)
Warnings: BDSM, Rope play and I guess other kind of kinks if they get included.
Limitations: No unhappy/ambiguous ending, no alcoholism (but recovery or past mentions are fine), no watersports (kink)
A/N: The art is not finished I am open to reinterpretation and/or taking the prompt a different way then the one I have outlined or changing the art a bit to better fit the story like Bucky (not) having the arm, short hair or long and similar.
*
Title: Sea AU
Description/Prompt: Siren/Mermaid Tony and Sailor/Pirate/Privateer!Bucky - Tony visits his land bound lover, Bucky.
This one is open verse, I have already listed couple of options for them, but feel free to change that.
The world can be dark - Siren!Tony attracts unsuspecting ships (and sailors) to their death. Either by Bucky's sword or by shipwrecking them.
Could be angst - ala Little Mermaid style (original or Disney version) or a completely new one
Could be hurt/comfort - Bucky is the only survivor of his ship, because Tony saved him. But Tony could only bring him to a lonely Island, where the only way out is for Bucky to build a raft, and Tony provides company whenever he can stay above water.
Could be fluff - Tony and Bucky deeply in love, where in the end Bucky follows Prince Tony into the depths of the ocean, never to be seen again by human eyes.
Or any other combinations! Go wild!
Warnings: None, I would say
Limitations: No unhappy/ambiguous ending, no alcoholism (but recovery or past mentions are fine), no watersports (kink)
A/N: The art is not finished I am open to reinterpretation and/or taking the prompt a different way then the one I have outlined or changing the art a bit to better fit the story like Bucky (not) having the arm, short hair or long and similar
*
Title: Vampire Bucky
Prompt: Vampire Bucky AU with Bucky. How does Tony find him like this? Let’s brainstorm together.
Limitations: noncon between Bucky and Tony, unhappy ending, pwp, MCD, ABO, D/s verse (a normal universe with a D/s relationship is fine though), eye gore, eye things in general, smoking, evil Tony, evil Bucky
A/N: It's still very sketchy, total WIP.
*
Title: Knight in shining armour
Description/Prompt: The Winter soldier is pulled from a burning HYDRA base by IronMan.
Open verse, it could be that Bucky is slowly methodically taking his revenge on HYDRA, and everytime he is injured IronMan comes and rescues him, but Bucky never stays, all the way until the end.
Or maybe Bucky was kidnapped and wiped, and IronMan wiped out the HYDRA base in revenge and now he is taking Bucky home.
Maybe IronMan finds HYDRA during Avengers one and decides to do some recon on his own and comes face to face with Bucky Barnes.
There are sooo many possibilities!
(While the IronMan armour is intended to be the Bleeding Edge armour, this can be changed)
Warnings: Hurt/Comfort? Possibly darker themes
Limitations: No unhappy/ambiguous ending, no alcoholism (but recovery or past mentions are fine), no watersports (kink)
A/N: The art is not finished I am open to reinterpretation and/or taking the prompt a different way then the one I have outlined or changing the art a bit to better fit the story like Bucky (not) having the arm, short hair or long and similar
*
Title: Dragon Shifter AU
Description/Prompt: Tony and Bucky are dragon shifters, Tony with fire magic, Bucky with ice magic. They can't stand each other, but they have to get along now... (Basically any enemies/ frenemies to lovers story you can thing of will make me happy, maybe with arranged marriage or a common goal/ enemy?)
Limitations: no A/B/O, no Civl War salt, no non-con between bucky/ tony, no mpreg
A/N: This art is purely self-indulgent. Anyone who wants to just have fun with the idea feel free to pick it up!
*
Title: Warlord Tony AU
Prompt: Everyone has heard of the warlord Iron Man, a cunning monster whose troops mercilessly slaughter his opponents on the battlefield and who has never lost a single battle. According to some he's not even a man at all: After all, he can cut through weapons and people alike, and survived direct hits that would kill a normal man. His army turns wins fights against superior numbers and his cannons never miss their target. Very few people know that he also hides quite a number of secrets in a calm little valley at the heart of his territory, in a town called Arc.
For Bucky, you can go wild - whether he's part of a tribute, an enemy soldier, an assassin or something else. We're looking forward to talking about plot ideas!
Warnings: implied violence, blood
Limitations: no non-con between Tony/Bucky, no fully evil Tony, no MCD, no ABO, no mrpeg, no team cap bashing pls
*
Title: Alpine
Description/Prompt: Biker Bucky finds Alpine on the side of the road, abadoned and hungry. Bucky decides to take Alpine to the vet, unfortunately this being - your choice of holiday - there are not many vets are open and most of them is for emergency only.
Bucky worried that the kitten won't survive the night, runs into vet!Tony who is about to head home. However seeing the kitten, Tony decides to help and nurture the kitten. Alpine survives the night and becomes a bike-riding cat, usually traveling on Bucky's shoulders or back pack.
The story could be a falling in love at first sight, or Bucky bringing all kinds of animals to Tony, because Bucky trusts Tony to take care of them. (There maybe a cracky story hidden in there somewhere too *wink*)
Warnings: no kittens were harmed in the making of this prompt - none
Limitations: No unhappy/ambiguous ending, no alcoholism (but recovery or past mentions are fine), no watersports (kink)
A/N: The art is not finished I am open to reinterpretation and/or taking the prompt a different way then the one I have outlined or changing the art a bit to better fit the story like Bucky (not) having the arm, short hair or long and similar
*
Title: Late night dance lessons
Description/Prompt: Bucky is baking late into the night as a super soldier he doesn't need much sleep and baking is a relaxing hobby. It's 2am, the night is quiet no people around and his favourite music is playing from the stereo.
This is the moment when Tony arrives (could be a long night at the 'shop, or maybe just coming in from an overnight flight, maybe this is the time they regularly meet), they get into a small talk which slowly evolves into Tony staying and talking and Bucky reminscens of old times and what he can remember. It's a soft and tender talking the one people only have at 3am. Then an old times music comes on, reminding Bucky of nights when he went out to dance. And Tony seeing the look on his face offers to dance with him.
Warnings: None
Limitations: No unhappy/ambiguous ending, no alcoholism (but recovery or past mentions are fine), no watersports (kink)
A/N: The art is not finished I am open to reinterpretation and/or taking the prompt a different way then the one I have outlined or changing the art a bit to better fit the story like Bucky (not) having the arm, short hair or long and similar
*
Title: Feats of Flexibility
Description/Prompt: Bucky is doing push-ups, and someone accuses him of showing off - he had been in the gym for hours now - and Bucky claims that this nothing challenging to him, so naturally he is challenged into proving it.
This is escalated into more and more complicated and complex tasks ending in Tony sitting on Bucky's back while he is doing push ups, with his feet in the air
Poor Tony who only come down to keep in shape and tries valiantly to not stare at those feats of muscles and flexibility gets roped in
Can end in a kiss/confession or more sexy times *wink*
Warnings: None
Limitations: No unhappy/ambiguous ending, no alcoholism (but recovery or past mentions are fine), no watersports (kink)
A/N: The art is not finished I am open to reinterpretation and/or taking the prompt a different way then the one I have outlined or changing the art a bit to better fit the story like Bucky (not) having the arm, short hair or long and similar
*
Title: Untitled
Description/Prompt: Open to any ideas for some steampunk shenaniganry! Skyships, pirates, dashing captains, scrappy inventors, swash*buckly* adventures?
Warnings: none?
Limitations: DNWs include a/b/o, mpreg, noncon, dubcon between major protagonists, death of major protagonists, unhappy/ bad endings
*
Title: Fantasy Secret Identity AU
Description: Bucky standing in front of a wall plastered with posters of all sorts, among them some wanted posters, one for Iron Man, one for the Winter Soldier.
Prompt: Tony Stark is a well-known noble and mage, and Iron Man is a well-known villain. Of course, the two aren't connected at all. Until Tony Stark takes on a bet to figure out the identity of the man in the armor - and hires James Barnes, a washed-up mercenary to find any clues possible. It's just as well James has no links to the feared assassin called Winter Soldier, because that would be making things complicated.
I'm always open for other ideas but am really hoping for some identity porn :D
Warnings: None
Limitations: no A/B/O, no mpreg, no CW salt, no MCD
A/N: I haven't inked most of the posters in order to leave the author some freedom for the AU they want to make - I'm open for suggestions about adding stuff in!
*
Title: Promise of the Desire to Live
Description/Prompt: This is a Pokémon crossover piece. The Pokémon egg on the left belongs to Magearna and will hatch in her original coloring (which are pretty much Iron Man colors). This Magearna will be the partner of Tony. The Pokémon egg on the right belongs to Mewtwo and will have almost the same coloring as Shadow Mewtwo except that his tail will be navy blue. This Mewtwo will be Bucky’s partner. Here’s the prompt –
The Avengers are called to deescalate a situation involving a young and semi-inexperienced Inhuman who lost her family due to a suicide bomber. After receiving her powers mere days after that traumatic event, this young girl, no more than 12, is able to sense who has a strong desire to commit suicide and send them to places/people/beings that need help and are able to bring them back from the brink of suicide.
Omega!Tony and Alpha!Bucky are sent to a Team Plasma lab with an egg incubator in the center of the room with two eggs in it. They take the eggs.
Warnings: Discussions of depression and suicidal thoughts
Limitations: Story cannot be ended with the Pokémon hatching. I want a full-length Pokémon journey from Bucky, Tony, and their Pokémon. I want them to find a way to travel between the Pokémon world and their home world. Also, must have A/B/O. No rape.
*
Title: Bunny Tony/ Wolf Bucky
Description/prompt: No matter what the media and Hollywood tried to say, there wasn't really that much difference between predator and prey presenting people. A jaguar wouldn't love climbing trees and napping all day anymore than a squirrel would hoard nuts and play deadly games with cars.
But whenever Tony's gorgeous rear and fluffy tail wind up in Bucky's line of sight, he has to clamp his teeth against a strong urge to bite. And when Tony comes down to the kitchen each morning, hair a mess and silky, floppy ears on display, Bucky has to fight more possessive urges. He's sure neither the team or Tony would appreciate Bucky dragging the bunny off to his territory...Would they?
Warnings: N/A
Limitations: Happy Ending, No Civil War, No AoU, No bathroom kinks, Prefer Team as family, Explicit welcome
A/N: The sketch will be colored and have at least one more piece featuring a Wolf Bucky. And maybe a shot of Tony's fluffy tail.
*
Title: Untitled 2
Description/Prompt: something based on the John Wick tailor scene or James Bond-Q outfitting or just general spies or mafia?
Open for brainstorming or alternate interpretations or anything really! Assassins/Spies not up your alley? image can be edited/background removed if your idea is for a non powers tailor au instead!
Warnings: canon typical violence for story (john wick levels or mcu levels up to author?)
Limitations: DNWs include a/b/o, mpreg, noncon, dubcon between major protagonists, death of major protagonists, unhappy/ bad endings
*
Title: Hold out your hand
Description/Prompt: The only thing I feel needs to be heavily included in the fic would be about Bucky's relationship with his arm and how Tony helps him with that (though it doesn't technically need to be the main storyline)
If you want other input then I love tropes especially soulmate type situations and Bucky recovery fics, but pretty much any trope is good.
Warnings: NA
Limitations: Character death, age play (I am pretty much open to anything else, any rating is cool with me as is including smut or not)
A/N: I am still messing with the composition and finish on this so if you have any input then let me know :) (for example the smaller images of the hands and Tony could be used individually for page breaks in the story rather than being the main art?)
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Title: Porcelain and Metal or maybe a Toy au?
Description/Prompt: This particular piece was created because I really wanted a porcelain ballerina tony and nutcracker-ish bucky.This could be a first meeting scene of sorts with bucky being a shameless flirt but the writer could expand and add more scenes of course! I mostly just wanted a very cute and magic realism-ish vibe.
Warnings: N/A
Limitations: No unhappy endings. A bit of angst for the sake of the plot is fine. Non-consensual acts of any sorts is also a no
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Title: Scheherazade AU
Description/Prompt: Based on Thousand and One Nights, war chief!Bucky refuses a spouse and threatens to kill anyone he's set up with. Tony ends up married to him and talks every night, leaving off right before bed so Bucky has to keep him around another day
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Limitations: no noncon/heavy warnings. Also really not into stucky, even as background influence/past feelings. Also don't want any feminization of Tony by having him as 'weaker' or a damsel. I don't like infidelity or overcomplicated drama because of simple misunderstandings. Some smut is okay, but no hard kinks, PWP, or A/B/O.
A/N: Besides inspiration of original story, I don't have much planned. While no warnings, it would include arranged marriage, but no actual noncon please. I like slowburn so totally down for a long fic. Also pretty relaxed with background ships and always here for some epic friendships (tony and rhodey, bucky and nat, etc).
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Title: Mirror images
Description/Prompt: Bucky and Winter got separated into two bodies by accident or on purpose, which helps greatly with them getting along better (or at all), until they decide independently to woo Tony
Both of them show how much they care about Tony, even if it's very very different from each other
Tony appreciates and loves both and absolutely can't decide between the two (nor does he want to because both are important to him) and it ends in polamory either a triangle or v-shaped
Warnings: N/A
Limitations: No unhappy/ambiguous ending, no alcoholism (but recovery or past mentions are fine), no watersports (kink)
A/N: The art is not finished I am open to reinterpretation and/or taking the prompt a different way then the one I have outlined or changing the art a bit to better fit the story like Bucky (not) having the arm, short hair or long and similar
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Title: College au meet cute or something
Description/Prompt: No specific plot, maybe Bucky and Tony like each other but both are oblivious to the others feelings. Steve and Rhodey as the "Why am I bestf riends with an idiot" best friend. With minor thundershield please
Warning: N/A
Limitations: No unhappy endings. Bit of angst for the sake of plot is fine.
A/N: Will color and clean this up a bit. I'll also be willing to make more art for the story if ever.
#winteriron bang#winteriron reverse bang#winteriron#ironwinter#tony stark#Bucky Barnes#second round claims
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Prestige Class Spotlight 10: Devoted Muse
Art is something worthy of being preserved. That is the doctrine of many faithful of Shelyn and other deities of art and creation. However, while in most cases art is a pacifistic force, the preservation of art sometimes means defending yourself and the works you value from despoilers.
When Aroden died, the Age of Lost Omens began, and with it, on the other side of the world, the ancient empire of Lung Wa in Tian Xia fell. Suddenly, centuries of art and culture were at risk of being wiped out by marauders and squabbling warlords alike who lack the capacity to recognize the value of that which they destroy or consign to the depths of history.
Thus, the Muses of Five Flowers, devoted as they are to Shelyn and the arts, trained warrior-poets to recover, preserve, and propagate the wonders and art forms that are constantly being threatened with extinction.
Even outside of this setting and context, this archetype screams an artistic battler that fights with incredible grace.
This prestige class only requires a goodly disposition, devotion to Shelyn or another god of arts, and mastery of a few common feats used by masters of light weaponry and feinting tactics.
The result, as we’ll see, is a feinting combat master that excels in buffing themselves and debuffing foes in more varied ways than just getting the enemy to drop their guard.
Blurring the line between dancer and warrior, these swordsmasters use their dancing skill to make themselves harder to hit.
Additionally, they benefit from the same panache and special daring deeds of a swashbuckler, though at a slower pace, though they are able to combine the two should they be both swashbuckler and muse.
When feinting foes, rather than leave the foe open to attack, these muses can use various graceful techniques to befuddle them in other ways. These include movements that make it hard to pin down foes other than the muse, confusing movements that provoke reactionary actions that might harm themselves or allies instead of the muse, unbalancing strikes that leave the foe unable to act easily for a few seconds, and minor stunning tricks.
Additionally, once they have their foe befuddled, they can add all sorts of graceful tricks to their follow-up strikes with a little expenditure of their daring. These include moving around the target with ease while they grapple with their debilitation, striking precisely for greater damage, inspiring allies with the enemy’s embarrassment, or begin befuddling another separate foe in one smooth motion.
Naturally focused on feinting, these tricky foes learn many extra techniques to improve or take advantage of their deceptive skills.
Finally, they also have a greater panache reserve than others, and even slowly recover it with time.
A fun archetype for a patron of the arts that is also a master of the feint and strike style of combat. Naturally, swashbuckler has the best synergy with it due to the stacking panache pools and deeds, but any feinting melee build can benefit from the prestige class if you feel it suits them.
Even if not motivated by a desire to preserve the arts, this prestige class does a lot to try and turn combat into an art form. The suggestion that their fighting style blends ancient and extinct fighting styles seems to me like a way to introduce homebrew feats that emulate some of the abilities this class grants, though perhaps in different form.
Though she remains a loyal soldier of her people, Voshakk of the sahuagin became a champion by studying the carvings of the fighting styles of seen in many sunken ruins, mastering the rapier work of both elves and humans. Some among her kind call her a blasphemer for her reliance on surface techniques, but there is no denying her skill. Were her favor to diminish, however, she would quickly find herself exiled or on the end of a trident.
Calligraphy requires a steady, yet flexible hand, just like swordplay, and in the nation of Buuraku, the allegory has been taken to its logical extreme with artist-swordspersons that master every graceful fighting art and dance, as well as others. Many are bards or geisha skilled in the art of calligraphy and magic.
Touched by a desert blight that leaves the region barren and sweltering, the remains of the lost city of Polshad no doubt boast hundreds of works of art lost to time. As such, the devoted muse Harvati wishes to hire powerful adventurers who could stand against the ooze, cleansing the region of it’s corruption and paving the way for an archaeological renaissance of sorts.
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