#kieran madden

[pupsmailbox]

NEUTRAL LEANING MASC NAMES ⌇　abner.　 abram.　 adam.　 adrian.　 alex.　 alistair.　 andreas.　 ariel.　 arlen.　 arley.　 arlo.　 ash.　 atlas.　 auden.　 august.　 austin.　 avery.　 bailey.　 baron.　 barrett.　 baylor.　 beauden.　 bee.　 bellamy.　 bennett.　 blair.　 blaise.　 bowen.　 brayden.　 brendan.　 bronson.　 bryce.　 byron.　 caius.　 caleb.　 callahan.　 callan.　 calloway.　 callum.　 camden.　 cameron.　 carlin.　 carson.　 casey.　 cassian.　 chandler.　 chase.　 cody.　 cole.　 connolly.　 corban.　 corwin.　 cyrus.　 dallas.　 damion.　 damon.　 daniel.　 darius.　 davis.　 dawson.　 daylon.　 denver.　 desmond.　 devin.　 doran.　 dorian.　 drew.　 elian.　 elias.　 ellery.　 ellison.　 emery.　 ethan.　 evan.　 ezra.　 fallen.　 farren.　 finley.　 ford.　 foster.　 gabriel.　 gannon.　 garner.　 gavin.　 gentry.　 graham.　 greer.　 griffin.　 guthrie.　 harley.　 harlow.　 hartley.　 hayden.　 henley.　 henry.　 heron.　 hollis.　 hunter.　 ian.　 irving.　 isaiah.　 jace.　 james.　 jameson.　 jared.　 jeremiah.　 joel.　 jonah.　 joran.　 jordan.　 jory.　 josiah.　 jovian.　 jude.　 julian.　 juno.　 justus.　 kalen.　 kamden.　 kay.　 kayden.　 keaton.　 kellan.　 keller.　 kelly.　 kendon.　 kieran.　 kit.　 kylan.　 landry.　 lane.　 lennon.　 leslie.　 levi.　 leyton.　 liam.　 linden.　 lowell.　 luca.　 madden.　 marley.　 marlow.　 marshall.　 martin.　 mason.　 mathias.　 mercer.　 merritt.　 micah.　 miles.　 miller.　 milo.　 morgan.　 morrie.　 morrison.　 nate.　 nevin.　 nick.　 nicky.　 nico.　 nicolas.　 noah.　 noel.　 nolan.　 oren.　 orion.　 owen.　 parker.　 percy.　 perrin.　 peyton.　 pierce.　 porter.　 preston.　 quincy.　 quinn.　 reece.　 reid.　 reign.　 rein.　 remi.　 remington.　 renley.　 riley.　 river.　 robin.　 rollins.　 ronan.　 rory.　 rowan.　 russell.　 ryan.　 rylan.　 sam.　 samuel.　 sawyer.　 saylor.　 seth.　 shiloh.　 soren.　 spencer.　 stellan.　 sterling.　 talon.　 taylor.　 thaddeus.　 thane.　 theo.　 toni.　 tracy.　 tristan.　 tyrus.　 valor.　 warner.　 wells.　 wesley.　 whitten.　 william.　 willis.　 wylie.　

NEUTRAL LEANING FEM NAMES ⌇　abigaël.　 abilene.　 addison.　 adrian.　 ainsley.　 alexis.　 and.　 andrea.　 arden.　 aria.　 ashley.　 aspen.　 aubrey.　 autumn.　 avery.　 avian.　 ayla.　 bailey.　 beryl.　 blair.　 blaire.　 blake.　 briar.　 brooklyn.　 brooks.　 bryce.　 cameron.　 camille.　 casey.　 celeste.　 channing.　 charlie.　 chase.　 collins.　 cordelia.　 courtney.　 daisy.　 dakota.　 dana.　 darby.　 darcy.　 delaney.　 delilah.　 devin.　 dylan.　 eden.　 eisley.　 elia.　 ellerie.　 ellery.　 ellie.　 elliot.　 elliott.　 ellis.　 ellory.　 ember.　 emelin.　 emerson.　 emery.　 evelyn.　 ezra.　 fallon.　 finley.　 fiore.　 florence.　 floris.　 frances.　 greer.　 gwenaël.　 hadley.　 harley.　 harper.　 haven.　 hayden.　 heike.　 hollis.　 hunter.　 ivy.　 jade.　 jamie.　 jocelyn.　 jordan.　 jude.　 juno.　 kelly.　 kelsey.　 kendall.　 kennedy.　 koda.　 kyrie.　 lacey.　 lane.　 leighton.　 lennon.　 lennox.　 lesley.　 leslie.　 lilian.　 lindsay.　 loden.　 logan.　 lou.　 lyric.　 madison.　 mallory.　 marinell.　 marley.　 mckenzie.　 melody.　 mercede.　 meredith.　 mio.　 misha.　 monroe.　 montana.　 morgan.　 nico.　 nova.　 oakley.　 olympia.　 owen.　 page.　 palmer.　 parker.　 pat.　 paulie.　 perri.　 petyon.　 peyton.　 phoenix.　 piper.　 priscilla.　 quinn.　 raven.　 ray.　 reagan.　 reece.　 reese.　 remi.　 remy.　 riley.　 rio.　 river.　 robin.　 rory.　 rosario.　 rowan.　 ryan.　 rylie.　 sacha.　 sage.　 sam.　 sammy.　 santana.　 sasha.　 sawyer.　 saylor.　 severin.　 shannon.　 shelby.　 shiloh.　 skye.　 skylar.　 sloane.　 sol.　 soleil.　 sterling.　 stevie.　 sutton.　 swan.　 swann.　 sydney.　 tatum.　 taylo.　 taylor.　 tracey.　 valentine.　 vanya.　 vivendel.　 vivian.　 vivien.　 wren.　 wynn.　 yael.

[vitalphenomena]

HE NODS, ENCOURAGING. He has nothing to say; he does not mind being silent so long as it means someone else will reveal parts of themselves that may be useful to him later.

You what, Josephine? You what, exactly?

Their eyes meet, and he tries not to smile to intensely. It might come off as menacing, to a skeptic. And as far as Kieran is currently concerned, Josephine is indeed a skeptic. Keeping this in mind ensures Kieran is appropriately wary. Sometimes, these girls can be so charming, you know?

"Easy?" he repeats. He makes it sound like he's smothering a laugh. "Maybe it looks that way, I'll allow you that much. But if you think living like this starts off easy for anyone, or ever becomes without effort entirely—you still have a lot to learn." And I'd love to teach you.

"We all struggle. I know I certainly do."

it is easy, this early, to feel captivated by kieran. he has built something out of nothing and josephine admires that about him, feels as though it must be the mark of a good person, or at the very least, a smart one. everyone seems happy here. why else would they be so at ease, feel like sharing so much, want to be so open with others who, weeks or months or years ago, were strangers?

"oh, i don't know, i ––"

have a great gaping hole for the last few years of her life, am not sure how to lie my way out of it, have not come up with a convincing enough, just-complicated enough backstory to excuse it when someone is looking at her like kieran is looking at her.

she is still looking at his hands. she forces herself to look up, meet his gaze. his smile twists something up inside of her.

"everyone else makes it look easy." she says. "you know?"

[syluslnd]

If you're still taking requests, I really wanna see how you'd write this situation. Sylus' s/o is visiting the mansion one day. Sylus is in the room when Luke or Kieran (it's probably Luke) accidentally discovers one of her sensitive spots; he poked a random spot on her back to get her attention and she barely holds back a moan.

sylus learns a new discovery about you

your attention fully on sylus while he lays on the bed sprawled out, watching you with that familiar intense gaze.

You were rambling on about something, your words tumbling out in an effort to distract yourself from how his presence always seemed to consume the space.

Sylus had a way of making the air feel heavier, as if every word exchanged between you carried weight. But right now, you were doing your best to ignore that pull.

Luke and Kieran were also in the room, leaning against the far wall, barely acknowledged by you. They hadn't said much and you hadn't felt the need to involve them in your conversation with Sylus. It wasn't unusual-you always focused on him and the twins usually stayed in the background.

But then, without warning, you felt it—a finger brushing down your spine, light but deliberate, starting at your neck and trailing all the way down. The touch was so sudden, so unexpected, that your body reacted before your mind could catch up. You flinched, your breath hitching and then, to your horror, an involuntary moan slipped from your lips.

The room went dead silent.

Your heart pounded as you froze, feeling heat rush to your face. Every nerve in your body was suddenly on edge and you became painfully aware of how every eye was on you. Luke's finger still hovered at the small of your back but your mind couldn't focus on anything but the sound that had escaped you. A blushing mess, you struggled to regain composure but it was too late. The damage was done.

Sylus's expression darkened immediately, his gaze narrowing as he shot a look toward the twins. "Out" he ordered, his voice low, dripping with authority.

Luke and Kieran didn't hesitate, quickly leaving the room, though you could still feel the heat of their lingering stares as they exited. The door clicked shut behind them and now it was just you and Sylus. The tension in the room became suffocating.

Before you could even speak, you felt a shift, a pull. Sylus's evol had kicked in and suddenly you were dragged onto the bed, your body moving against your will. You gasped as you found yourself straddling him, your knees pressed into the mattress on either side of his hips. His power forced your arms to wrap around his neck, pulling you close until your face was inches from his.

"Sylus-" you started but your voice caught in your throat as you felt his fingers, cold and deliberate, start to glide up your spine.

Slow. Painfully slow.

He dragged his fingertip over your back, tracing the same path Luke had touched moments ago, only now it felt a hundred times more intense. The gentleness of his touch was at odds with the dark, predatory look in his eyes, and your body tensed with the growing tension.

"You flinched when he touched you" Sylus murmured, his voice dangerously low. His finger made another slow pass down your spine, making you shiver involuntarily. "But that sound you made... that was for me, wasn't it, kitten?"

His words sent a chill through you, your breath coming in shallow gasps as your body responded to every calculated movement of his finger. He knew exactly what he was doing, toying with you, making you squirm without even needing to move more than a fingertip. It was maddening, the way he maintained control over you, even now.

You tried to speak but the words wouldn't come. Sylus tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into a dark, knowing smile. "You're mine and I don't like sharing." His finger paused for a brief second before continuing its slow descent down your back, dragging out the sensation. "I think I'll remind you of that."

Your breath hitched again as he leaned in, his lips brushing against the side of your neck, teasing but not quite touching. You could feel the tension radiating from him, the possessiveness behind every subtle move.

His evol kept your arms locked around his neck, keeping you trapped against him, powerless to resist. And despite the darkness in the air, the intensity of his touch, you felt your body betraying you, drawn to him in ways you couldn't control.

"You like this, don't you?" he whispered, his voice rough, his finger finally reaching the small of your back before trailing up again at an agonizingly slow pace. "I can feel it. Don't deny it."

You whimpered, the sound escaping before you could stop it, your body reacting to the tension he was building with such little effort. Sylus's smirk deepened as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin.

"Good girl."

There was no escape. His evol had you trapped and you were completely at his mercy and the worst part was-you didn't want to get away.

[spider-stark]

Reasons why recasting Kieran Burton as Benji just makes sense: 1. They recycled Dean-Charles Chapman and nobody really batted an eye. 2. The HYPE Kieran generated from his 2-minute screentime as a minor bouse Blackwood member is insane, imagine him actually playing THE Bloody Ben. 3. "He's WAY too old to play Ben!!" Well HBO aged up all of their characters and/or used older actors to portray teenagers anyway...and it still somehow works? (Robb is 17 in s1, played by a 24-year old Richard Madden. Ppl still loved him!) Anyway #KieranBurtonforBenjicotBlackwood

honestly

I've said it a million times, but: Kieran Burton would have been an amazing Bloody Ben.

in less than a three second promo clip he had the entire internet in an uproar and managed to perfectly encapsulate the essence of a character that he wasn't even playing regardless of the fact that he wasn't 'the correct age'.

all of these are valid points and idk how hbo looked at kieran burton and didn't think that he was the perfect benji

[moseslikellamas]

♱𖣂 Redfork Menace ♱𖣂 pt.9

Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!OC

Summary - Shanda begins to lose her mind as Benjicot’s plan begins to work. Back at Stone Hedge things take a turn for the worst

Warnings - fem!reader, suspense, mentions of violencr, adult language, period typical misogyny, condescension, adult language, complicated family dynamics, feud behavior, misplaced rage, feelings of guilt, manipulation benjicot brainrot, Kieran Burton fancast.

Word count - 2.4k

Bit late but here we are!

In her room, Shanda paced. She had been pacing the better part of two hours. She was mumbling to herself as she did so. It had been days. Days of avoiding the heir of Raventree and days of wishing she’d get over herself and talk to him. He’d given her the space which was nice and maddening.

“Get a grip. Just wait until… but then…” On and on she went.

The storm had died down and her room was stuffy and humid. Despite the continued rain, she threw the window open. Breathing the cool fresh air in, she relished in the breeze. Her dress was wet with sweat and she failed to wipe the sweat out of her eyes. Her arm was just as coated, the two slick surfaces just gliding across one another. She was losing her mind. Or she had already lost it, she couldn’t decide. The bottom line was the man accusing her of attempted murder and who had inadvertently signed her death warrant, shouldn’t make her stomach flutter with a thousand butterflies.

Her door flew open, the man of the hour walking in looking concerned before he spotted her by the window, sweaty and sullen.

“What, is opening a window illegal now?” She asked, looking at her hands trying to seem disinterested.

“It is when you threaten to scale the castle walls that way.”

“So you’ve been spying on me?”

“You’re a wanted criminal my-“ He had paused abruptly, remembering at the last second not to call her lady. “My sweet baby.” He’d winked then. And she had grown red in the face, irritated with his continued open flirting.

“Your mortal enemy. Your darkest rival.”

“Is that your way of saying you’d like to roll around in the mud again? Because I will oblige if so.”

“Ugh!” She exclaimed, throwing her hands up and turning away from him. Maybe he would just go away if she ignored him.

“Do you want to go outside?” His voice was right behind her suddenly and she jumped, startled.

Of course she wanted to see something other than the stuffy four walls that she’d been looking at. But it was the principle of the thing. She didn’t want him to be nice to her and offer to take her outside, that’s not how you treat prisoners. That much she knew. Without turning around, she replied.

“Am I allowed out now? I am a wanted dangerous criminal after all. Might not be safe to let me out on the prowl.” She sounded childishly immature even to her own ears.

“You are definitely dangerous.”

He reached around her to close the window. Letting his hands linger about her waist after he’d finished. She was holding onto the windowsill for dear life when he reached up and grabbed the back of her neck.

“You know, maybe some air would be nice.” She shakily agreed, changing her mind.

Some air, some space, some fucking mental help. All of the above would have been greatly appreciated by her. She tried to imagine all of the bloody Bracken men she’d seen coming in with broken bones. Trying to summon the image of the man, standing entirely too close to her, committing acts of violence. Hoping to shock some sense into herself. Instead she just summoned the image of him covered in blood, eyes wild while he grabbed her. Coating her dress in blood before doing the same to her mouth… Get a hold of yourself! She scolded herself.

She hadn’t heard him if he’d said anything, just allowed him to lead her from the room; his hand was still on the back of her neck. Shanda had suitors before, more came and went every moon. They were boring, horrible boring men who never thought about anything interesting. Just more of the same, ledgers. Sure, counting and keeping track of records was important. But if she wanted to keep records she could stay home and manage that fine. She had records, heaps and heaps of boring records.

What she hadn’t had was a delusional man willing to shove her roughly against a surface and tell her sweetly all the reasons why she wanted him to. And now that she did, to say she’d been underprepared would be putting it lightly. Men were boring, they talked about boring things and had boring fights. Or they were bloodthirsty monsters with no redeemable traits. Benjicot was some odd third thing, psychotic definitely. But he was attentive, he noticed things about her she didn’t even think about. True, he then tried to manipulate her using those facts, but she was finding she didn’t care.

That was why she’d let him lead her out of the room with hardly a protest. If he would give her a shot, she could get across the river. She felt absolutely sure of it. He was incredibly fast and had the home field advantage but if she didn’t try now, she might not ever.

***

Stone Hedge was burning. Martyn was busy evacuating everyone, his lungs burned from inhaling the smoke. A nasty cough was developing in his chest and he wheezed every few inhales. He didn’t know where Royce was, presumably in the stables calming the horses. But he’d seen his father out first when the fire started. It was still unclear as to what started the fire but it had raged. Luckily for them Stone Hedge wasn’t named that for laughs and the castle hadn’t burned. Unluckily for them it had been the people and furniture that burned.

“Keep moving! We must wait for the air to clear! Keep to the right.” He occasionally barked out instructions as he guided people outside into the humid air.

Having guided that group, he went back in for a final sweep. His head was swimming at this point, climbing the stairs was a difficult task that he slugged through. He had a piece of wet cloth over his mouth and nose but his eyes watered blurring his vision as he looked. He called out, listening for any replies. When he heard nothing he would move on to the next spot. He opened windows and doors as he went, helping to air the smoke out. They’d managed to smother the worst of it and if the gods were good the rain might pick up.

Once he cleared the castle he fell down outside once in the fresh air. A violent cough gripped him for a minute, strangling him. He threw up, heaving on the ground. Someone had pulled him upright, raised his arms over his head and given him a good couple slaps on the back until he finally managed to stop. Another handed him a canteen full of water, the cool drink could’ve been an ascension to him. He drank heavily, then poured the rest into his stinging eyes.

Blinking his eyes open, he saw his companions. Royce was to his left and to his right a fellow guard.

“Donal, have we a casualty estimate yet?”

The young knight shook his head. “No one’s crazy enough to go in there yet but you I’m afraid.”

Shanda would have. Martyn felt a bolt of anguish shred him up inside at his own thoughts. He’d managed to carefully lock the thought of her up while dealing with the crisis and he was on the verge of falling apart again. The halls were empty without her and life was bleak. Royce was a ticking time bomb, a ball of rage and he was still deeply angry at Shanda.

The afternoon Royce pushed her in the river, Martyn had almost slain him. Royce had panted, watching as their sister drifted further down the river. And Martyn stood behind him, sword held aloft waiting for him to turn around. When he did, his expression was not one of shock.

“I suppose it’s only right.” He had responded, hands behind his back calmly.

Martyn had screamed, charging at him fully intending to strike. But he’d plunged the sword into the ground beside him instead and began to sob.

“Mother will never forgive you.”

“She’s dead. If we go now maybe Shanda won’t be.”

Then they ran into the Blackwood’s.

The encounter hadn’t been so bad at first. Royce had ignored their taunts and they had hardly existed to Martyn. It was when that bloody savage spoke up that things took a turn for the worst.

“Looking for your sister are you?”

Martyn had closed his eyes at the words, exhaling. They’d found her first.

“Afraid you’re too late. We caught her earlier, sneaking around and spying. Got her locked up, awaiting trial now.”

Martyn had no choice but to pull his sword at those words.

“You lie. If you have her it's because you've stolen her. She wouldn’t go over there.” He meant specifically today, as Martyn knew she definitely was going over there. But she wouldn’t today, not after being shoved in the river. He knew his sister, she would not be plotting to spy after the afternoon she’d had.

“Hm, I wonder. Wasn’t she wearing gold?” He asked his men, looking around inquisitively.

Martyn knew he was just trying to get a rise out of them but Royce was younger and had a bad chip on his shoulder about their sister presently. He had attacked first, he’d just started brawling. Martyn had no time to watch him though as his own fight had started.

Martyn was a distance fighter first and foremost, a dead shot with a bow. And he was perfectly fine with a sword, but he was useless against whatever maniac had grabbed his sword mid swing and ripped it out of his hand before flinging it away. The guy's hand was gushing blood but he just grinned on before knocking Martyn on his ass. Both him and his brother ended up in the river afterwards. After fishing himself out he had just laid there on the ground. His thoughts had spiraled out of control until Royce pulled him up and began to lead them home.

Their father had just stared at them unblinking for several minutes. He had stopped counting after three but from how heavily his brother seethed beside him it could've been hours.

“You pushed your sister in the river.” He said it as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

“You pushed your sister into the river.” It sounded worse the second time.

His father had turned his attention to Martyn waiting expectantly, disgust on his features.

“I did try to stop him. He tried to cut her head off first, we’re lucky she moved. But like you always say father, Royce could knock me to the ground on my best day. And today was no one’s best day.” He stared at the ground, eyes tearing up again.

“She’s a gods damned disgrace and we’re better off without her conniving ways around here.” Royce cut in, having decided on the worst moment to speak his mind.

“Your sister is twice as useful as you.” Their father had bitten out replying to Royce but directing it at both of them. “Get out of my face.”

Martyn had gone to guard duty, seeing nothing else to do. He could not go to sleep, maybe ever again.

That was three days ago. Now he lay on the grass under the cloudy night sky struggling to pull in air.

“It was her.” Royce said, suddenly standing.

“Huh?” Martyn replied, still half delirious but Royce was gone in an instant.

Donal helped Martyn pull his armor off, his skin steaming in the night air. Somewhere off in the distance, he heard a howl sound off. The wolves had decided to show up after all.

***

He had let her go. That was all Shanda could think as she sprinted through the grasslands, never once looking back. If he were really trying, she’d be able to hear him. The only sounds were her lithe feet barely touching the ground. For once it wasn’t raining, instead it was dangerously hot. Not the weather to go sprinting in but that seemed her lot in life. The gods did not esteem the Riverlands, they could not and make it this hot.

“I’ll make you a wager.” He had said once they were outside, air hanging over them like a blanket. “If you can make it across the river, I’ll drop the whole thing. Call it a big misunderstanding, and leave it alone.”

“And if you catch me?”

“Nothing changes,” then he smiled brilliantly at her, making her stomach clench. “And I get to enjoy a good chase.”

“Just across the river?”

“Shall I give you a head start?”

She didn’t waste a second then, taking off immediately. Her biggest disadvantage behind the heat, were the clouds obscuring the moonlight. Occasionally heat lightning would flash but it didn’t light her path any better. But she had managed to avoid slipping into any holes and for that she did thank the gods. The copse of trees was dark and menacing but she didn’t slow down. She barreled into the trees only pulling up short so as to not fall into the river.

The river wasn’t moving as quickly as it had been a few days ago and she looked at it carefully before choosing a spot to try to cross. She’d judged it wrong though and slipped nearly falling in. She caught a tree root and was attempting to pull herself up when she heard twin voices call out.

“It’s you!”

At the same time as,

“There you are.”

Having pulled herself back up on the bank, she could see her brother Royce standing there across the water. He looked shocked, his mouth hanging agape before his face hardened into a mask. Then he turned around, having said nothing and left. Shanda frowned, confused. Benjicot wrapped both arms around her, holding her tightly.

“I think you may have messed up love. Dear brother looked upset to see us together.”

Why hadn’t Royce said anything to her? Sure he’d pushed her in the river. But that was days ago, she was over it. What sibling didn’t occasionally try to kill you? Why had he been at the river in the first place?

And why had Benjicot been so slow?

“What took you so long?”

“I wanted to give you a fair shot.”

“Lucky you, I got distracted.”

“I would’ve still caught you. I saw your attempt to cross, just pathetic. But I would’ve fished you out.” He sighed, rubbing his cheek against the top of her head.

[dreadfutures]

and a final stealth prompt for dirth: “technically you won’t kill me, because i gave it to you. do it properly, then.”

thank you friend

for @dadrunkwriting

Dirthamen committed the first sin of the Evanuris, setting his lordly family down a path of slavery and megalomania when he first shared with them the secrets of the vallaslin. He learned well thereafter to keep his secrets to himself, but his regret remained for what became of the People under his invention.

When the Rebel Wolf gave him a chance to atone, Dirth knew how it would end.

He just hopes that this secret will die with him.

Image: statue found above Flemeth and Kieran's ritual in the raw Fade, identical to "The Watcher" and "The Raven" in the Emerald Graves/Exalted Plains, associated with Dirthamen.

-:-:-

Dirthamen flies, and his shadow follows.

Through the furthest reaches of the Fade, Dirthamen leads his twin; he is a streak of starlight, and Falon'Din is the hungry darkness that lurks behind. They are inextricable, and that is why Falon'Din was tasked with chasing him down when his treason was discovered. Yet that bond is also why Dirthamen can stay one step ahead.

Dirthamen knows what Falon'Din doesn't, but Falon'Din knows his brother.

The God of Secrets will not outstrip his pursuer, but that is not his goal--not that the God of Death knows *that.* All Dirthamen can hope to do here is keep his family's attention as best he can, while the Pride of Elvhenan orchestrates its fall.

He's fairly certain that even Solas doesn't understand that that, truly, is what he will enact. And Dirthamen, poisoned by his sister's arrow, feathers scorched by his adopted father's mighty rays, pursued by his brother's bloody maw, and forsaken by all the rest, has neither time nor desire to open Solas' eyes.

Time is running out for them all. Mythal's death is unraveling him, and Falon'Din, for though they took on bodies at her instruction, they were born of her spirit. Andruil and Sylaise alone out of their family had been bodied first, then awakened as Spirits, and this they were the only ones with the ability to destroy their maker without destroying themselves. But while Mythal's death did not threaten Andruil's existence, the Huntress was already well on her way to ruin already thanks to the Void magic that tainted her existence. Even Sylaise could not heal what was broken and breaking inside her sister. She had tried--and it had cost her her sanity, and probably her life, though Dirthamen was not witness to it.

Everything in existence was on its way to join he if Solas did not act, and Dirthamen could not have risked Pride staying his hand. Foolish, brash, despairing Pride--he would be at once the doom of Elvhenan, and the savior of the world.

Time would tell how he would be remembered.

Dirthamen hoped they would all be forgotten.

He would do his best to drag them with him, into oblivion. His own plans had been laid long ago, and he believed that his family was still ignorant of his trap.

It was his greatest secret. He had worked hard to keep it, until now.

Through the Fade he fled, leading his brother along a path only he knew. Falon'Din would think him simply desperate prey, hopeless and afraid, but Dirthamen planned every step, every warp, every twist, every portal, with care. Their path ventured, then returned, and once again they careened through the glittering domes of Arlathan.

Andruil, maddened and with a thirst that had not been slaked with Mythal's blood, joined the chase, and Ghilan'nain followed--now, little more than one of the monsters she had sired. Elgar'nan's wrath turned toward them, focusing on the traitor to his own treasonous plot, and gave pursuit with all his might.

Dirthamen was fleet, slippery, a shade. But his strength was not without limit, and he could not hope to stand against them all.

He felt Pride's song begin, far away at the court of Justice where Mythal had once appointed her his steward. It was far enough that the Evanuris would not be able to reach him, having gone so far astray in their pursuit of traitorous Dirthamen. They knew--as much as the lucid ones could know--that they had been caught in a trap.

The only thing left to do was to tear apart the bait.

In the central square of the city, Dirthamen crashed to the ground. Feathers and blood rained down around him, and the serpentine monstrosities of his kin followed with landings that shook the island to its root. Civilians and soldiers alike fled in terror, and watched, horrified, from afar as the Evanuris gathered for a final time.

Dirthamen staggered to his feet, his cloak of shadows and secrets all that remained of his regalia. His armor was scorched and tattered, metal hanging from his body like ripped fabric.

But still--the First of the People were not easy to kill, and of them all, Dirthamen was the Eldest.

"HE'S MINE," Falon'Din bellowed to their maddened kin, and Dirthamen smiled a bloody smile in the shadow of his hood.

"You won't kill me," he chided. "I gave you that body, my brother, and you gave me mine."

"I shall," Falon'Din said. "I will have no brother, no reflection--I shall stand alone in glory, purchased with your blood!"

"Then do it properly!" Dirthamen roared in reply. His eyes darted to his other kin, circling him. "Let me be your final sacrifice, O Death, and seal your fate!"

"Hold him still," Falon'Din barked. "Do not let him escape!"

Dirthamen could not brace himself in time for the blow. He rocked forward with it, staggered, and fell to one knee in a hail of blood. Elgar'nan's sword jutted from his chest, streaked with red, and as Dirthamen gasps, more blood pours from his wound and from his mouth.

He will not, cannot die from this--but the agony is beyond anything he has ever known.

He bows his head, gagging, face shadowed beneath his hood.

Falon'Din stands before him.

Kneels.

This was never going to be the victory the vain god wanted. This was never going to be the peaceful venture Dirthamen has dreamed of.

Falon'Din looks into his brother's eyes, hatred and a vicious love reflected back at him.

"No more secrets," Dirthamen whispers.

"No more journeys," Falon'Din agrees.

Falon'Din slits his own throat, and Dirthamen dies.

And dies.

And dies.

Time unwinds from the world, but Arlathan remains frozen, and Dirthamen's blood anchors the spell--the moment held like an extended note in an aching melody, a life preserved in Solas's song.

[batmannotes]

The Dark Knight Trilogy

Artwork by Kieran Madden

[cidraman]

B'89 v S'78.

art by Kieran Madden.

[soulsbetrayed]

To smile at death is true courage

"Damn it Binah! Gods, no he can't be dead, no no no."

You can hear her voice dripping with arrogance as it always been, her voice, her damn voice! That bitch was gloating wasn't she? Your blood was boiling as you went out of your way to tear through the swaths of enemies left right and center hoping to reach the center of the chaos. Damn it Kieran where are you!

The sense of dread weighed heavy upon your chassis as you kept your maddened rush as you heard a loud scream in the din of howling beasts. "Fuck fuck fuck! KIERAN!" your mechanized voice pitched up to a distinct screech as you clawed your way through a pile of corpses. Your sensors were overwhelmed with a gnawing sense of fear as you saw the familiar sight of the Disciplinary Team's armband

Rushing over you see an a all familiar mane of white hair now stained red with blood as you kneel next to the dying man. "You bastard, is this how you're gonna go out? Fuck you fuck you!" You cursed him out as you just sat there stunned at the notion of your shithead employee slowly fading away. You could not believe this defiant man was bleeding out right before you.

A quiet groan escapes him as he struggled to look at you, a bloodstained smile upon his face. "Heh, so much for killing me yourself huh?" If you could cry you would've done by now. This was not supposed to happen by a long shot. He wasn't supposed to die this way.

He reached out to grab at your hand before those amber colored eyes closed for the final time.

You couldn't help but scream at the heavens once more. Once more you could not protect those who were important to you

[shrikehq]

∘ ₊✧────── anonymous asked ; most wanted male fcs by players?

i asked in the discord, and here are some that those online at the time came up with !! i also encourage our members to reply to this post with any that we’ve missed !!

eduardo franco, isaiah mustafa, jeremy pope, manny jacinto, ross lynch, keanu reeves, rege jean page, michael b. jordan, ji chang-wook, manish dayal, kieran culkin, wang yibo, min yoongi, daniel henney, adam rodriguez, robert sheehan, hyunjin, jordan fisher, daniel radcliffe, michiel huisman, jung hoseok, richard madden, iwan rheon, jonathan groff, joseph gordon levitt, connor jessup, jordan calloway, dylan o’brien, will poulter, hunter doohan, mike faist, kit young, diego boneta, drew ray tanner, darren barnet, and theo graham.

[worldburnrp]

Congratulations KAYA, PAIGE, APRIL, M, KEEKS, & MYSTIC! Your characters have been accepted into WorldBurn. To proceed, please check out and complete our checklist and send in your character blog as soon as you can. Welcome!

Kaya with Amira Lellouche (Sofia Boutella, Drug Dealer, Cortazar Cartel) and Jackson Bennett (Patrick Flueger, Detective, Law Enforcement)

Paige with Darcy Madden (Bridget Regan, Criminal Profiler, Law Enforcement)

April with Dorothy Chen (Michelle Yeoh, New York Supreme Court Justice, Govenment), Bella Diez (Diane Guerrero, Escort & Thief, The Syndicate),  Leonardo Haynes (Charles Michael Davis, Enforcer, The Brotherhood),  Pilar Vercio (Elizabeth Hurley, Socialite & Campaign Donor, Civilian) 

M with Kieran Murphy (Robert Sheehan, Con Artirst, The Syndicate),  Garrett Russell (Jon Bernthal, Hitman, The Syndicate)

KEEKS with Gaél Davalos (Pedro Pascal, Owner of New Haven Gardens, Civilian), Milosh Loveridge (Landon Liboiron, Activist/Cafe Owner, Civilian), Caoimhe Speyer (Zoey Deustch, Owner of Chateau Dough, Civilian/The Syndicate)

Mystic with Aiden Fontenot (Michael B Jordan, Arms Manufacturer, The Brotherhood) and Kallen Marchand (Joey Batey, Hacker, The Syndicate)

[syluslnd]

Hey It is me again !! I’m embarrassed about requesting a lot from you but I really adore ur writing , so can I request a writing where the mc is trying to surprise sylus with something nice to show her love as he always the one who does these stuff for her , with the help of the twins and they just try to make it happen without sylus noticing WHICH IS PAIN

AGAIN THANKFUL FOR UR EXISTENCE

trying to surprise sylus gone wrong

(note-this was so much fun to write so I really hope I did it accordingly to what you had in mind !! omg that’s such a beautiful compliment thank YOU for your existence I hope you’ve had an amazing week so far love !! kisses xx)

────୨ৎ────

You were pacing back and forth in Sylus’ room, chewing on your nails as you nervously glanced at the clock. Sylus was supposed to be home any minute and you still hadn’t finished setting up the gift. The twins, Luke and Kieran were both rummaging through Sylus’ belongings, looking for the final touches to add to the surprise.

“This is not how I planned this” you muttered under your breath, feeling the anxiety rise.

Luke, balancing on one foot as he attempted to place a bow on the gift box, grinned widely “Relax! It’s gonna be great! Sylus won’t know what hit him!”

Kieran, who had found a random pair of Sylus’ sunglasses, put them on and struck a pose “Yeah, it’s like we’re secret agents! He’ll never suspect a thing!” He gave you a thumbs-up, as if the situation wasn’t spiraling into chaos.

You glanced at both of them, exasperated. “He’s going to immediately know. Do you know how freakishly observant he is? He notices when I move a pillow on the couch and you’re in here wearing his sunglasses!”

Kieran froze, then slowly took them off, a sheepish grin on his face. “Uh, yeah. That might’ve been a little too much.”

Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed in the hall. Your heart jumped into your throat. “Oh no, he’s almost here! Quick, everyone hide the stuff!” You darted around the room, tripping over a chair leg in your frantic attempt to finish the setup.

Luke snickered “You’re gonna trip over yourself before the surprise even starts.”

“Not helpful, Luke!” you hissed, shoving the ribbon back into the box, trying to make everything look somewhat presentable. “I just wanted it to be perfect for once…”

Kieran poked you lightly in the side, smirking. “Perfect’s overrated. It’s cute when you’re a little frazzled.”

Before you could retort, the door clicked open.

Sylus stood in the doorway, his stoic face betraying nothing but there was a glint in his eyes. “What are you three doing in my room?” His voice was calm, but you could hear the teasing laced underneath.

You froze, heart pounding, your face flushing. “We… um… we weren’t… doing anything weird!” you stammered.

Luke tried to suppress a snort while Kieran casually leaned against the dresser, nodding as if this were totally normal. “Yeah, just, uh, hanging out. Right?”

Sylus’ eyebrow quirked as he took a slow, deliberate step inside, his gaze sweeping the room—taking in every little misplaced object, the half-hidden gift box, and your overly nervous posture. “Is that so?” His voice was so neutral, it was almost maddening.

You shifted awkwardly, wringing your hands together. “Yep! Absolutely nothing… weird…”

His lips curled ever so slightly, eyes sharp as he looked at the three of you. “Then why are you sweating, sweetie?”

Your eyes widened as you sputtered. “I’m not sweating!”

Luke, ever the unhelpful one, leaned in and whispered loudly “You are kinda sweating.”

Kieran snickered, and Sylus, in his usual deadpan way, continued “Uh-huh and here I thought you were up to something… secret.”

You felt like melting into the floor. “We’re not—I mean, we are but not bad secret stuff! Good secret stuff!”

Sylus took another step closer, folding his arms. “Good secret stuff? In my room? With Luke and Kieran, who look guilty as hell?”

“Hey!” Kieran protested with a grin, “That’s just my face.”

Sylus ignored him, his gaze settling back on you, his amusement barely hidden. “So, should I be worried, kitten?”

The way he said “kitten” sent a wave of heat to your face. You desperately wanted to say something cool, but all that came out was a helpless squeak.

Sylus’ expression softened, though the teasing never left his eyes. He finally glanced at the hidden gift box, almost like he was acknowledging its presence without giving it away. “Strange. I feel like something’s missing in here. Maybe I should have a look around…”

You panicked, stepping in front of the gift box. “No! Don’t look!”

He chuckled under his breath, that deep, rich sound that always managed to get under your skin. “Why not? What could possibly be in here that I’m not allowed to see?”

Luke and Kieran both held their breath, clearly enjoying the tension. You could feel their grins behind you.

Sylus leaned down slightly, peering at you from beneath his lashes. “Unless… you’re surprising me with something?”

You groaned, realizing there was no way you were pulling this off. “How did you even know? I didn’t say anything! You were supposed to be surprised!”

He straightened, tilting his head in that infuriatingly calm way. “Sweetie, you’ve been flustered all day and you let them help” he motioned toward Luke and Kieran who were pretending to act innocent “so I had my suspicions.”

Your shoulders sagged in defeat. “I just wanted to do something nice for you.”

Sylus’ teasing expression softened further his hand reaching out to cup your cheek gently. “I appreciate it, kitten. You don’t have to try so hard. You being here… that’s enough of a gift for me.”

Your heart skipped a beat, your face flushing even more as his words sank in. “S-Sylus…”

He smirked, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “Now, how about we see what you’ve been hiding?”

[4biddenpromo]

WELCOME TO 4BIDDEN !

Echo Matthews ( Troian Bellisario ) | slave

Cedric Phillips ( Andy Biersack ) | slave

Kieran Jones ( Thomas Doherty ) | Master ( WANTED CONNECTION FILL )

Xiomara Lopez ( Brianna Hildebrand ) | Master

Cypress Sinclair ( Cody Fern ) | slave

Kaze Haruka ( Mackenyu Arata ) | slave

Ambrose Madden ( Troye Sivan ) | slave

Mallory "Slick" Scott ( Chloe Bailey ) | Master

Cyrus Ramsey ( Peter Gadiot ) | Master ( WANTED CONNECTION FILL )

NEXT ACCEPTANCE IS FRIDAY, OCTOBER 4TH !

[moseslikellamas]

♱𖣂 Redfork Menace ♱𖣂 pt.22

Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!OC

Summary - The Blackwoods and Brackens plan to disrupt the upcoming marriages.

Warnings - fem!reader, suspense, adult language, period typical misogyny, condescension, adult language, feelings of shame, feelings of guilt, manipulation, benjicot brainrot, Kieran Burton fancast.

Word count - 2.2k

Okay, am I dragging this out? Maybe a little. But I am a sucker for shenanigans. Sorry its late!! I was too tired last night.

Benjicot came into her room that night victorious, with a smile so big it was like to break his face. He’d picked her up and spun her around laughing. To say her mood was less jubilant was an understatement. She’d spent the better part of an hour consoling Martyn who was utterly baffled that he might be used as a political pawn as an eleventh son. Royce had been pleasantly surprised and amiable towards his match once he saw his betrothed. For that she was thankful, one less headache to deal with. It was clear Benjicot had not spent that same time trying to reassure his aunt. If anything he had probably avoided her, afraid of showing his hand and gloating too loudly.

But he would hear none of her complaints when she tried to voice them over his joyous celebration which included laughing himself silly and booping her on the nose when she grew irritated. It was maddening but she’d eventually dissolved into laughter herself at his antics. He was a man grown acting worse than someone half his age, running around her room like a chicken with its head cut off.

“Stop it! Have some self respect would you?” The sting was taken out of her words by the giggles still escaping her.

“We’ll be married on the morrow. We’re the only ones using the godswood. Gives us the best time slot.”

He winked at her but all of the laughter had died inside her throat. Noting her sudden frown he inquired about her sudden change in mood. His own excitement dwindled down to smolders. He approached her slowly before grabbing both of her hands.

“Surely you’re not still shocked at this?” He smoothed out her wrinkled collar before laying a hand on her cheek. Delicately rubbing the skin beneath her eye with his thumb. “I couldn’t have spelled out my intentions any plainer than this. What troubles you?”

What wasn’t troubling her? She was not so sure that mass forced marriage would absolve the riverlands of generations of grudges. What guarantees did they have that upon returning home the same attitudes wouldn’t start back up? How was she supposed to respect a marriage sanctified by gods she didn’t recognize? How could they make a successful family together if his guardsmen made nasty jabs about her children's cousins or uncles? It seemed to her this issue was more nuanced and complicated than the solutions proposed. Sure it would take time but it would also require a conscious effort on their part to ensure change was made.

As she contemplated this the answer came to her quite simply. If she wanted to ensure a change in the values of the people around her, she had to embrace that same change within herself. Now was not the time to rock the boat. The marriage would happen all the same regardless of her behavior. She knew it would be best to raise her complaints once they were gone from RiverRun. She did not intend to sit idly by and allow Benjicot to rule her life for her. She would insist on a sept at Raventree. And that was all there was to be done about it. Compromises were going to have to be made to bring this new chapter to life in the riverlands but Shanda knew when to push and when to pull.

“I’m just lamenting my last hours as a free lady. I should check on Alysanne, as I’m sure she’s experiencing a similar feeling. And you were no help, no doubt.” She huffed pulling his hand from her face and walking away from him.

He caught her hand and pulled her back, grabbing her shoulder when she turned back to face him. She hadn’t expected to leave that easily and it was nice if nothing else that he was predictable to her now.

“I did check on her, I’m not an animal. But believe me you don’t want to be around her right now. She’s been giving Lord Elmo an earful for hours by now.” He rolled his eyes and poked her in the side, unhappy with the scowl plastered on her face. “I’m not worried for her, you should visit your brother if anyone.”

That was probably true but she knew Alysanne was actually plotting a revenge attack against the Lord Elmo. Nothing too crazy but a tad dangerous and definitely something Shanda wanted to get in on. If the Lord wanted them all to spend more time together, to get on like a proper family, then a prank was the perfect way to cement the bond. Shanda was not going to let Benjicot in on that or any other man if she could help it. She’d already clued Bellena in and was assured that meant the rest of the women would follow shortly after.

“Perhaps you're right but either way, you should be on your way. I’m sure there’s a large barrel of summer wine being tapped right now. You wouldn’t want to miss out.”

He only grinned at her and took a step forward, crowding in around her.

“You’re plotting something.”

“I most certainly am not.”

“You’ve got that look in your eyes, like a rabbit right before it bolts.” He leaned in closer as if he could hear her heart thudding in her chest.

She tried edging around him but he continued walking her backwards, his hands shooting out to cup her face as her legs hit the back of the bed frame. She stopped in her movements and stubbornly stared up at him, crossing her arms. Her mind was a steel trap and there was no way she was going to spoil the surprise by letting him in on it.

“Tell me.”

Predictably he went for the direct approach first, bloody brute.

“I don’t know what you mean, ser. But I’ll thank you to unhand me.”

He paused, his eyes gauging her reaction. Testing her to see if this was really how she intended to play this. When she held her head high and did not buckle, he smirked.

“You know, a lady shouldn’t wander the halls unaccompanied. Just isn’t proper, especially in strange walls unfamiliar to her. What if you got lost? The guards around here are just never on duty are they?”

He was looking down at her with an arrogant expression that made her blood start to simmer. She knew what he was getting at.

“I’m afraid I must insist on accompanying you to your destination. So, where are we going? To see your brother I presume?”

His voice was nothing short of cordial and proper, an insult when contrasted against the way his hands held onto her, making sure she couldn’t leave.

Her face was flushed and she was working hard not to let her breathing pattern increase with her frustration. She knew there was no shot he would let her walk out of the door without him.

“You truly are fucking insufferable.”

The hand holding her waist came up to rest on her neck, feeling her pulse beneath his fingers.

“A lady should watch her language.”

“Better I wasn't a lady then, incorrigible prick.”

In a blur of shifting colors she was suddenly flipped over, disoriented; it took her a second to realize he’d shoved her face first into the bed. She could feel his body heat against her as he ripped her arms back behind her before laying on top of her, where she was bent over the bed. His breath was hot on her neck when he spoke.

“You don’t mean that baby. If you weren’t a lady, I’d have ripped your dress off an fucked you that first night.”

The hand that wasn’t gripping her hands snaked up to pull her head back by her hair and her back arched with the pressure.

“Don’t you remember? You would’ve been so cute, gasping for air in the pouring rain, half covered in mud.”

She couldn’t think straight anymore. She knew in the back of her head he meant to throw her off. Get her to tell him about Alysanne’s plan but in the moment she thought only of his words. Her mind flashing back to that night, his blade pressed firmly against her neck.

“And you’re still a spineless brute.” She huffed back trying to keep her mind focused, then she stamped her heel into his foot as hard as she possibly could.

The only sign she had that he felt it at all was the sharp little exhale he did and that was enough for her.

“Don’t you ever think of anyone else besides yourself?”

She was annoyed by his continued presence and lack of respect for her plans.

“I think about you day and night. I wake up at your altar and linger there late into twilight. I look at the moon and see your face.”

He pulled them both up off of the bed, his arms wrapped lovingly around hers. She was so warm and held securely but she couldn’t care as long as he keep talking.

“I won’t spoil your fun, I promise.”

He rocked them from side to side, his lips brushing against her neck feather light.

“Just let me come with you.”

She prickled at that. “We’ll have the rest of our lives together. Can’t you give me one last night?”

As much as she verbally protested, she didn’t mind him wanting to tag along. She had enough of being alone for a lifetime. It would be sad to leave RiverRun after seeing so many people and embracing long lost cousins. Despite the problems that seemed to needle her mind constantly, it was a relief to see Benji cared to be around. Enemy husband or not, she didn’t want a cold, touchless home.

“Do you really want me to go?”

She felt the rumble of his words through her chest and closed her eyes. Maybe it was time to start making this union work for her.

“Let’s find Alysanne.”

***

“Oh you spineless cunt.”

Benjicot was smirking at his aunt while she berated Shanda, who looked rightfully abashed. But felt unashamed in her heart. Alysanne shook a finger at her and grabbed her by the shoulder, walking her away from Benjicot.

“You’ve really got to get a grip on him, you know. And you need to find a way too soon or else he’ll never leave your side. You’ll be packed up and taken on the road with him everywhere he goes.”

Alysanne had turned back to make an obscene gesture at her nephew then before continuing. She snapped at Shanda who had also looked back and became ensnared in golden eyes.

“Listen, I know you aren’t thinking with your head right now but this is important! Benjicot doesn’t give up easily, he does everything with all of his energy. That includes winning arguments, so figure it out!”

It was honestly good advice but she wasn’t of a mind to listen currently.

“Anyway, just be glad I gathered the girls elsewhere.”

Had Alysanne anticipated that Shanda would give their position up to Benjicot? That thought was amusing to her and annoying. The Blackwood brood was too observant by half. That was a problem for a girl who liked to move in the shadows.

“I’ll worry about Ben, you need to sneak into Lord Elmo’s study. On the top shelf of the bookcase behind his desk he keeps a little blue book. It has gold filigree on the outside of a jumping trout. You’ll know it's the right one because it has finger indents in it from use over the years.”

Shanda nodded listening as she laid out their plans. The book was full of riverland secrets and she was practically salivating as Alysanne explained the plan to her. It didn’t matter if the prank worked at all now, looking inside that book for a second would solve all of her curiosity for many moons. What did Elmo have on the Brackens? Once she knew what was at stake there was no question about doing it.

“What’s the distraction?”

It would be hard to draw the lord's attention away. He was wise to their shady ways. You don’t become next in line for Lord Paramount without being able to read people and Lord Elmo was the best at it in a generation.

Alysanne snorted. “You should be familiar enough with it, you used the same tactic many times before.”

Momentary confusion settled over Shanda but then she remembered Martyn and Alysanne would be spending a lot of time together now.

“You talked Martyn into it?”

She shrugged, not meeting her eyes. “I handled it, now get out of here before Ben comes over.”

Shanda snaked through the hidden hatch Alysanne had led her over to as they talked. It was no more than a fancy hole in the floor but there was a torch waiting inside. Alysanne looked down at her, handing her a slip of paper. It was a fantastically drawn map of Riverrun, outlining her trip to the study. She knew Alysanne had done the map in Raventree Hall’s library but here was the proof. It was incredibly detailed and she wondered how long the lady had been working on this.

The door above her closed and she was alone in the cool, dark place. They had a short window of time to pull this off and Shanda didn’t intend to miss it. Picking up the torch she began the long walk towards the Lord’s study.

[volatilehqs]

me sugiram fcs male entre 30 e 40 anos? até 50 to aceitando hehe

Vamos lá. Oliver Jackson-Cohen, Charles Melton, Lucien Laviscount, Romulo Estrela, Nicholas Galitzine (recém clube dos trinta), Wi Hajoon, David Castañeda, Daniel Sharman, Michael B Jordan, Glen Powell, Lewis Tan, Robert Pattinson, Will Sharpe, Scott Eastwood, Theo James, Adam DiMarco, Joe Keery, Joseph Quinn, Chay Suede, Çağatay Ulusoy, Jonathan Bailey, Assad Zaman, Sam Reid, Jacob Anderson, Rahul Kohli, Richard Madden, Andrew Scott, Max Irons, Sam Claflin, Gong Yoo, Chris Pine, Peter Gadiot, John Krasiski, Lakeith Stanfield, Alexander Skarsgard, Kieran Culkin, Frank Dillane, Ricky Whittle, Diego Luna, Andy Samberg.

[arcanummagea]

Ending's and Beginning's. A Solo.

The Red Death held a tight grip over Aestrias, in the year 550. It takes no amount of remembering to recall such plague over his homeland. New graves sit snug beside five year old headstones from a war three years ago, leaving behind orphans and widows.

Kieran had been eight during the plague, sick in bed several days. His mother was warned not to be near him, in fear of catching it herself but that did not stop Lumeyia Valeta. He looks at her with dull eyes, trying to smile as rashes ran rampant across his body.

Blood drips past his lips again, as she wipes it away with her cloth. "Will you tell me a story, about Anayu and Raava?" Lumeyia arched a brow.

"Didn't I tell you that last week?"

"It's my favorite."

"Oh, very well, only for you and your sisters," she poked him on the nose, beginning her tale. "Our God used to be friends with a mortal named Raava, as you know.

He taught Raava all that he knew and his knowledge was vast, unaware that this mortal had a whole other agenda in mind, wishing to harness God's power." She stopped.

Kieran raised his gaze upward, his eyes widened to see blood seeping past his mother's lips, coughing it out some landed onto his shirt. As the weeks went,

Lumeiya suffered. The nurses could do nothing nor the shaman woman of their village.Though he knew it was not his fault, that he did not beckon his mother to enter his room, he still blamed himself for her death. He knew not how long he stayed by his mother's grave that day, until he felt the hand of the Seer woman

touch his shoulder. Her nails dug into his shoulder. "Get up, Valeta. Your father's becoming concerned."

All had been quiet as they trekked back. Until he at last spoke. His pale blue eyes were like flames of ice, looking direct at the woman. "I know you do not teach men your ephemera, Hroza…but please…"

She looked at him with amusement, head cocked to one side. "It's not an easy of task Kieran. You may burn yourself…or freeze." "I can handle it. I want to handle it."

"Very well. Come see me at dawn, tomorrow, no late."

So he had. She was right. When he first tried Fire, he burned his left hand terribly enough for it to scar. Blizzard was a similar of action. Lightning always strikes twice. He almost drowned himself with Water. On a bleak day in late Autumn, at the age of thirteen, he marveled in awe when he had at last controlled Blizzard.

His father had been delighted, along with little Anjiji and young Tala. Uliah masked her bitterness over the fact she was not an Arcane Mage like her brother. He never bragged in front of her, spite the praise from everyone.

A letter from King Validus, rumors were abound he had maddened after banishing his own daughter whom was only fourteen years old, loathing her for having fae like magic.

"You're really leaving, I see..." she murmured. Leant against his doorway.

His ears twitch at her tone. Glancing over his shoulder. "You're angry."

"Only of the fact you're throwing your life away, for one man."

He breathed through his nose, knowing Uliah would be like this. His mother often told him Uliah took her anger out on those she loved most, of the fact it was easier.  "Validus is our king, sis...he's done so much for everyone."

Poor fool. If only he had the knowledge that he does now.

"It would seem you've forgotten what this country has done to mages in the past." She retorted, angry tears burning behind her eyes. "Kieran....if you don't come back..."

A hand is placed atop her head. She stilled some though he could see she was still fighting them. "I'll be fine, okay? Please...I'll visit when I can."

"I'll come and visit Uliah, don't make this difficult please?"

Uliah said nothing. He does not flinch hearing her bedroom door slam. Anjiji casts a weary glance when he kisses the top of her head. He kneels to Tala's level, her tiny arms wrapping around his neck.

"Come back safe, Kiki please?"

"I'll try...love you guys."

Nox was waiting for him, his pet werecat think of a lynx like creature but bigger and stronger. Kieran pets his dear friend's head with a gloved hand, and does not look back.