#malevolent part 16 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

novaursa · 6 months ago

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The Dragon's Right (4)

-Summary: It was by grace of the gods that firstborn child of Viserys I and Aemma was born a boy and he lived. And all of the rest, scholars will later say, is by power of something more malevolent in kind.

- Pairing: male!reader/Rhaenyra Targaryen

- Note: For all the parts and more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Word count: 9 000+

- Previous part: 3

- Next part: 5

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

As you and Rhaenyra entered the chambers of the small council, the weight of responsibility settled heavily upon your shoulders. The grandeur of the room, with its high ceilings and long table, was a sharp reminder of the power that was wielded within these walls—a power that you were now expected to share in. The members of the council, deep in discussion, turned their heads in unison to acknowledge your arrival, their eyes lingering on the empty seat that had been yours before you left for the Dornish borders.

King Viserys, seated at the head of the table, looked up with a mixture of relief and warmth as he saw you and Rhaenyra. "Come, my son," he urged, his voice filled with paternal pride. "Take your seat. It has been empty for far too long."

You nodded respectfully and moved to the vacant chair, the council members shifting slightly to make space for you at the table. Rhaenyra, meanwhile, stepped aside with a small, playful smile, taking over the duties of the cupbearer from the young boy who had been serving in her stead. The boy handed over the jug of wine with a shy bow, and Rhaenyra took it with practiced grace, moving around the table to refill the goblets of the council members.

As you settled into your seat, the familiarity of the room began to return to you—the polished wood of the table, the maps and documents spread out before you, the faces of the men who had advised your father for years. It felt both comforting and burdensome, this return to the heart of Targaryen power.

Lord Corlys Velaryon, the Master of Ships, wasted no time in redirecting the conversation back to the pressing matters at hand. "Your Grace," he began, his deep voice commanding attention, "we must return to the issue of the Stepstones. The Triarchy grows bolder by the day, and their control over the shipping lanes threatens our trade and the security of our allies. We cannot afford to sit idle."

Viserys sighed heavily, clearly weary of this particular topic. "I understand the gravity of the situation, Corlys," he replied, his tone patient but firm. "But entering into a war with the Free Cities is not a decision to be taken lightly. The consequences could be disastrous for the realm. I will not risk open conflict without exhausting every other option first."

You listened carefully, understanding your father's concerns, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something needed to be done. The reports from the Stepstones had been troubling, and you knew that inaction could be just as dangerous as a full-scale war.

"Father," you interjected gently, your tone respectful but earnest, "I understand your hesitation, but we cannot ignore the threat the Triarchy poses. If we allow them to solidify their hold on the Stepstones, it could embolden them further. We must act, even if it’s not to declare war outright."

Rhaenyra, who had been quietly filling goblets, paused in her duties and spoke up, her voice confident. "Perhaps we don’t need to send the entire fleet, Father. What if we sent dragonriders? Syrax and Silverwing could turn the tide, send a message that we will not tolerate this incursion."

Corlys nodded in agreement, his expression thoughtful. "The princess makes a valid point, Your Grace. The sight of dragons in the skies over the Stepstones could be enough to dissuade the Triarchy without the need for a full-scale engagement. It would show our strength without committing us to a costly war."

But Viserys shook his head, his expression tightening with concern. "No. I will not send my children into danger—not again. You have just returned, Y/N, and I will not see you thrown into another conflict. And Rhaenyra… I won’t risk you either. The dragons are our greatest asset, but they are not tools to be used lightly."

You opened your mouth to protest, the words on the tip of your tongue, but Viserys cut you off with a wave of his hand. "I appreciate your counsel, but my decision is final. The matter of the Stepstones requires further consideration, and I will not commit to a course of action that could lead us into a wider war."

A tense silence settled over the room, the frustration palpable among the council members. Rhaenyra’s face had fallen slightly, her enthusiasm for the idea dampened by your father’s refusal. You could see the disappointment in her eyes, a reflection of your own feelings. The suggestion had been sound, and it was clear that both of you felt a strong desire to contribute to the defense of the realm, but Viserys’s protective instincts were overriding all other considerations.

Sensing the growing tension, Otto Hightower, ever the diplomat, cleared his throat and spoke up. "Your Grace, perhaps there is another matter that the princess could attend to, one that does not involve the dangers of war. Several knights have arrived in the capital not just for the tourney, but to present themselves as candidates for the Kingsguard. A new member must be selected to replace the late Ser Ryam Redwyne. Perhaps the princess could oversee the selection process."

Viserys seemed to grasp at this suggestion as a way to defuse the situation. "Yes," he agreed, his tone firm. "That is a more fitting task for you, Rhaenyra. The Kingsguard is a vital institution, and your judgment will be invaluable in choosing the right man for the position."

Rhaenyra glanced at you, her expression a mix of disappointment and resignation. You met her gaze with a sympathetic look, understanding how much she had wanted to be involved in the more pressing matters of the realm. But you both knew that this was how things often went in the small council—difficult decisions were made, and sometimes, the right course of action wasn’t always the one taken.

With a small nod, Rhaenyra accepted the task given to her. "Of course, Father," she said, her voice steady despite the slight tension in it. "I will see to it."

Otto and Lord Lyonel Strong stood, ready to accompany Rhaenyra to the courtyard where the knights were likely gathering. As she turned to leave, you caught her eye once more, offering her a small, reassuring smile. She returned it, though there was a flicker of frustration in her gaze, a silent acknowledgment that the lords had effectively maneuvered her out of the more important discussions.

Once the three of them had exited the chamber, the door closing softly behind them, Viserys turned back to you, his expression softening. "I know you want to help, Y/N," he said quietly, his tone more paternal than kingly now. "And I know you’ve proven yourself in battle, but you’ve just returned. I have no intention of sending you off to fight in another skirmish so soon."

You looked at your father, the concern in his eyes evident. He was speaking not just as a king but as a father who had already lost too much. "Father," you began carefully, "I understand your concern, but the realm faces real threats. We cannot afford to hesitate, not when our enemies are moving against us."

Viserys sighed, running a hand through his hair, his expression weary. "I know. But the weight of the crown is heavy, and I must balance the needs of the realm with the safety of my family. You are my heir, Y/N, and I will not risk losing you—not when there are other options we can explore first."

The room fell into a contemplative silence, the tension of the earlier discussion still lingering in the air. You wanted to push further, to convince him that decisive action was necessary, but the look in his eyes stopped you. Viserys was a man who had already faced too many losses, and the thought of losing you—or Rhaenyra—was something he simply couldn’t bear.

"I will continue to weigh our options," Viserys said finally, his voice resolute. "But for now, we will not rush into a conflict. Let us see how the situation develops, and we will respond as needed."

You nodded, though your mind was still restless. The council’s discussions had left much unresolved, and you knew that the challenges facing the realm would only grow in the days to come. But for now, you would respect your father’s wishes, even as you kept your own thoughts and strategies close to your chest.

Grand Maester Mellos cleared his throat, signaling that he had something to say. The council members turned their attention to him, the discussions of strategy and diplomacy momentarily paused. Mellos’s expression was serious, his tone measured as he spoke.

"Your Grace," Mellos began, addressing King Viserys, "while the matters of the Stepstones and the Free Cities are indeed pressing, there is another issue that demands our attention—one that is much closer to home. I am speaking, of course, about Prince Daemon and his continued… activities within the city."

Viserys’s face tightened at the mention of his brother. The strained relationship between the two was well known, and Daemon’s methods of enforcing his own brand of justice had been a source of tension for some time now. The King had hoped that his brother’s appointment as Commander of the City Watch would temper his more reckless tendencies, but it seemed that hope had been in vain.

"What has he done now?" Viserys asked, his voice tinged with both weariness and frustration.

Mellos exchanged a glance with Tyland Lannister before continuing. "The Gold Cloaks, under Prince Daemon’s command, have become a force unto themselves. While there is no denying that they have brought a certain level of order to the city, their methods are… extreme. Reports have reached us of public executions, floggings, and other harsh punishments meted out with little regard for the law."

Tyland leaned forward, his expression stern. "Your Grace, Daemon’s actions are causing unrest among the smallfolk. His form of justice is seen by many as tyrannical, and there are whispers that he is using the Gold Cloaks to consolidate power in the city. If this continues, it could lead to greater instability, not just in King’s Landing, but throughout the realm."

You listened in silence, your mind working through the implications of this news. Daemon had always been a wildcard—brilliant in battle, fiercely loyal to his family, but also unpredictable and dangerously ambitious. His actions as Commander of the City Watch were just another example of his tendency to push boundaries, to challenge the status quo.

Viserys rubbed his temples, clearly troubled. "I had hoped that giving Daemon responsibility would curb his more… destructive impulses. But it seems he’s taken it as a license to do as he pleases."

"Your Grace," you interjected gently, "perhaps a direct conversation with Daemon is needed. He respects you more than anyone, and he may listen if you make it clear that his actions are causing harm."

Viserys sighed, nodding slightly. "Yes, you’re right, Y/N. I’ll speak with him. But I fear that even I may not be able to fully control him. Daemon has always marched to the beat of his own drum."

The discussion continued, with the council debating how best to handle Daemon’s increasingly volatile presence in the city. Some, like Tyland, advocated for more direct intervention, possibly even removing Daemon from his position, while others, like Lord Lyman Beesbury, suggested a more diplomatic approach, hoping to rein in Daemon’s excesses without causing a rift within the royal family.

As the council deliberated, the scene shifted to the courtyard of the Red Keep, where Rhaenyra stood with Ser Harrold Westerling, Otto Hightower, and Lord Lyonel Strong. Before her, a line of knights stood at attention, each hoping to be chosen as the newest member of the Kingsguard. Rhaenyra’s expression was one of quiet determination, though there was a hint of disappointment in her eyes as she listened to the introductions.

One by one, the knights were presented to her. Ser Harrold described their accomplishments—victories in tourneys, noble lineage, and years of service to their respective lords. But as Rhaenyra listened, her disappointment grew. These men, for all their noble backgrounds and polished armor, had little in the way of real combat experience. Their greatest achievements seemed to be catching poachers and excelling in jousts. None of them had faced true battle, the kind that forged a knight’s mettle.

She turned to Otto, her frustration clear. "These men have titles and tourney victories, but none of them have faced real danger. How can I trust them to protect my father and our family when they’ve never been tested?"

Otto, ever the pragmatist, offered a placating smile. "Your Grace, the Kingsguard is as much about the alliances it brings as it is about the skill of the knights. A knight with noble blood and strong connections to other houses could strengthen the crown’s position. Battle experience is valuable, but so are the ties that bind our allies to us."

Rhaenyra’s eyes narrowed slightly, her dissatisfaction evident. She understood the politics behind the selection of the Kingsguard, but she was not willing to compromise on something as important as the safety of her family. "What good are alliances if the men sworn to protect us fall at the first sign of real danger?"

Before Otto could respond, Ser Harrold spoke up, his voice respectful but firm. "Your Grace, there is one more knight to present—Ser Criston Cole of House Cole."

Rhaenyra’s interest piqued at the mention of a new name. She turned her attention to the last knight in the line, a man who, unlike the others, bore no signs of wealth or nobility in his appearance. Ser Criston Cole stepped forward, his armor simple but well-maintained, his face weathered and serious. There was a quiet confidence about him, a sense of purpose that set him apart from the others.

"And what experience do you have, Ser Criston?" Rhaenyra asked, her tone curious but guarded.

Criston bowed slightly before speaking. "Your Grace, I have served in battle, fighting under the command of Prince Y/N against the Dornish incursions. I’ve faced enemies in the field, not just in tourneys. I’ve held the line in the heat of battle and know what it means to protect those under my care."

Rhaenyra’s eyes widened slightly at the mention of your name. This was the first knight she had heard of who had actual combat experience, and under your command, no less. It gave him a legitimacy that the other knights lacked.

"You fought under my brother’s banner?" Rhaenyra asked, her interest clearly piqued.

Criston nodded, his expression respectful. "Yes, Your Grace. Prince Y/N led us with honor and strength. He was an inspiration on the battlefield, and I did my best to serve him and the realm to the best of my ability."

Rhaenyra exchanged a glance with Ser Harrold, who nodded approvingly. This was the kind of knight she had been hoping to find—someone with real experience, someone who had proven himself in the crucible of battle.

"I choose Ser Criston Cole," Rhaenyra declared, her voice firm. "He is the only one among them who has faced true combat and proven his worth."

Otto’s expression tightened, his displeasure evident. "Your Grace, while Ser Criston’s experience is commendable, it’s important to consider the broader implications. A knight with noble blood could bring valuable alliances to the crown. Ser Criston, while skilled, lacks the connections that could strengthen our position."

Rhaenyra met Otto’s gaze with determination. "What value are connections if they cannot protect us? Ser Criston has fought under my brother’s banner, and I trust my brother’s judgment. I stand by my decision."

Otto opened his mouth to argue further, but Rhaenyra’s tone left no room for debate. Lord Lyonel Strong, sensing the tension, subtly placed a hand on Otto’s arm, urging him to let the matter rest.

"Very well, Your Grace," Otto conceded, though it was clear he was not pleased. "Ser Criston will be appointed to the Kingsguard."

Rhaenyra nodded, satisfaction gleaming in her eyes as she turned back to Ser Criston. "You have my trust, Ser Criston. Serve my father and this realm well."

Criston bowed deeply, his expression one of solemn gratitude. "I swear to protect the king and his family with my life, Your Grace."

As the selection was finalized, Rhaenyra felt a sense of accomplishment. She had asserted her judgment and chosen a knight she believed could truly protect her family. But as she turned to leave, escorted by Ser Harrold, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment—knowing that this task, though important, had been a way for the lords to remove her from the more pressing discussions of the realm.

The days following your return to King’s Landing had begun to take on a semblance of routine. The excitement and pageantry of your homecoming had started to fade, replaced by the day-to-day responsibilities that came with being the heir to the Iron Throne. While the court’s initial frenzy of attention had diminished, you still felt the weight of expectation pressing on your shoulders—a burden you had come to know all too well during your time away.

This particular afternoon found you in your father’s chambers, a place that had become a refuge for King Viserys in recent years. The room was dominated by the massive model of Old Valyria that your father had been painstakingly working on for what seemed like forever. The sprawling, intricate creation covered most of the table space, with towers, bridges, and spires crafted with a meticulous eye for detail.

Viserys was seated on a stool, carefully adjusting a small tower with a steady hand. You stood nearby, observing the model with a mixture of admiration and quiet concern. Your father’s obsession with this model had grown in tandem with the challenges of ruling the realm, and you wondered if he found solace in building something that, unlike the realm, he could control completely.

The conversation had started out light, filled with the usual topics—news from the Reach, the latest reports on trade, and the progress of the model. But as the minutes passed, you noticed a subtle change in your father’s demeanor. His hands, usually steady and sure when working on the model, seemed more deliberate, almost hesitant. There was a tension in his shoulders, a tightness around his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

You frowned slightly, studying him more closely. It wasn’t uncommon for Viserys to lose himself in his thoughts while working, but today there was something different, something unresolved hovering between you.

"Father," you began, your tone careful, "I can see something’s troubling you. What’s on your mind?"

Viserys paused, his hand hovering over the model, and for a moment, you thought he might not answer. But then he let out a long, weary sigh and set the piece down carefully before turning to face you. His expression was conflicted, a mixture of frustration and worry, as if he had been wrestling with something that he hadn’t yet found the courage to voice.

"It’s the council," Viserys finally admitted, his voice low, almost resigned. "They’ve been pressing me on a matter that I’ve been… reluctant to address."

You raised an eyebrow, sensing the gravity of what he was about to say. "And what matter is that?"

Viserys hesitated again, rubbing the back of his neck—a gesture you recognized as a sign of his discomfort. "They’ve been urging me to remarry. They believe it would strengthen the realm, secure new alliances, and ensure that our house remains strong." He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "But it’s not just that. They’ve also been pressing me to find matches for you and Rhaenyra."

The words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. The idea of your father remarrying wasn’t entirely unexpected—politically, it made sense, and you knew the council was always looking for ways to solidify the crown’s position. But hearing him admit it aloud, and then to include you and Rhaenyra in the same breath, caught you off guard.

Viserys continued, clearly trying to gauge your reaction. "They may be right," he said quietly, though his tone was far from certain. "You’ve been away for years, often in skirmishes and battles. If something were to happen to you…"

He trailed off, his voice thick with emotion. You could see the unspoken fear in his eyes—the fear of losing you, just as he had lost Aemma, just as he had lost others. It was a fear that had haunted him for years, and now, with you finally home, it seemed to have taken on a new urgency.

Viserys placed his face in his hands, his fingers pressing against his temples as if trying to push the thoughts away. "You should marry, Y/N. You should have children. It’s what’s expected of you, and it’s what will secure our house’s position."

You felt a surge of frustration, the words stinging more than you cared to admit. "I’ve only just returned, Father," you replied, trying to keep your tone measured. "I’ve spent years away, doing my duty to the realm. And now that I’m finally home, you want to talk about marriage and heirs?"

Viserys looked up at you, his expression one of weary resolve. "I know it’s not what you want to hear, but it’s something you must consider. You’re the heir to the Iron Throne, Y/N. Your duty doesn’t end with battle. It extends to the future of our house, to the legacy you will leave behind."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you tried to process what he was saying. You understood the importance of your position, of course—you had been raised to understand it from the moment you could walk. But the thought of being thrust into marriage and fatherhood so soon after returning home felt overwhelming, as if the expectations of the realm were suffocating you before you’d even had a chance to breathe.

"And what of Rhaenyra?" you asked, shifting the conversation slightly. "She will hate this when she hears it."

Viserys’s face softened, a look of genuine concern crossing his features. "I know," he admitted, his voice heavy with the weight of his own doubts. "And I’m even more terrified to bring this subject up with her. Rhaenyra has always been strong-willed, and she’s never been one to accept her fate without a fight."

You couldn’t help but chuckle, despite the tension in the room. "That’s an understatement," you said, the image of Rhaenyra’s fiery spirit flashing through your mind. "She’ll have more than a few things to say about this."

Viserys allowed himself a small, weary smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "She’s my daughter, and I love her dearly, but this is something she must face, just as you must. The future of our House depends on it."

You leaned against the edge of the table, folding your arms across your chest as you considered his words. The future of the house—those were heavy words, words that carried the weight of centuries, of dragons, of kings and queens who had fought and bled to keep the Targaryen name alive. But they were also words that had driven you away, into battlefields and borderlands where you could escape the suffocating pressure of the throne, if only for a little while.

"I understand, Father," you said finally, your voice quiet but steady. "But I need time. I’ve just come back, and I need time to find my footing again, to figure out what my place here is."

Viserys nodded, his expression softening as he saw the conflict in your eyes. "Take the time you need, Y/N. But don’t forget that time is a luxury we don’t always have. The realm will not wait forever."

You nodded in return, knowing that he was right. The realm, the throne, the legacy of House Targaryen—they were all forces that moved with or without your consent, and sooner or later, you would have to face them head-on.

But for now, at least, you would take the time you needed to adjust to being home, to reconnect with Rhaenyra and your father, and to figure out what the future might hold—not just for you, but for the entire Targaryen legacy.

As you left your father’s chambers, the weight of his words still heavy on your mind, you couldn’t help but wonder how Rhaenyra would react when she heard about the council’s pressure to find matches for the both of you. Knowing your sister, it would be a conversation filled with fire and defiance, and you would have to navigate it carefully.

But that was a problem for another day. For now, you would focus on the present, on the here and now, and on the family you had fought so hard to return to. The future could wait—at least for a little while.

The gardens of the Red Keep were a haven of tranquility amidst the bustle of King’s Landing, a place where the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze offered a brief respite from the weight of courtly duties. Rhaenyra and Alicent often found solace here, escaping to the quiet paths and shaded alcoves where they could be themselves, free from the expectations that came with their titles.

This afternoon, the two friends strolled along a cobblestone path lined with vibrant roses, their conversation light and filled with laughter. The sunlight filtered through the leaves above, casting dappled patterns on the ground as they moved deeper into the gardens. It was a rare moment of peace, one that both young women cherished in the midst of the growing pressures that surrounded them.

Alicent, ever the gentle and thoughtful companion, was telling Rhaenyra a story she had overheard from one of the maids about a particularly clumsy lord who had nearly tripped over his own feet during a dance at court. The tale had them both giggling, their spirits lightened by the absurdity of it all.

As the laughter began to fade, Alicent glanced at Rhaenyra with a playful glint in her eye, her voice taking on a teasing tone. "So, Rhaenyra, do you think your brother will ever find himself a lady as graceful as Silverwing to keep him company?"

Rhaenyra, who had been reaching out to touch a delicate flower, paused mid-motion, the question catching her off guard. She turned to Alicent, her brow furrowing slightly. "Why would you joke about that, Alicent? Y/N isn’t even considering taking a wife right now. As far as I know, Silverwing is the only lady in his life."

Alicent noticed the slight edge in her friend’s voice and hesitated, her own smile faltering. She hadn’t meant to strike a nerve, but Rhaenyra’s reaction had been stronger than expected. "I didn’t mean to upset you, Rhaenyra," Alicent said softly, her tone apologetic. "I was only teasing. But… would it be so terrible for your brother to find himself a match?"

Rhaenyra’s initial irritation bubbled over into a snort, her gaze flicking away from Alicent as she tried to deflect the question. "What does it matter if he finds a match or not? He has more important things to think about than marriage, and so do I."

But even as she spoke, Rhaenyra felt the sting of the memory from six days ago, after she and her brother had raced their dragons. The moment when they had tumbled together on the ground, laughing until the laughter had died away and something far more intense had filled the space between them. The almost kiss that had haunted her every night since, replaying in her mind, tormenting her more than she was willing to admit even to herself.

The fact that her brother had never brought it up again—had acted as though nothing had happened—only added to her frustration. Did it mean nothing to him? Or was he just as conflicted as she was, choosing to bury the memory rather than confront it? The thought made her chest tighten with an emotion she couldn’t quite name, one that made her both angry and confused.

Alicent, watching Rhaenyra closely, could sense the turmoil beneath her friend’s words, even if she didn’t fully understand its source. "Rhaenyra," she began gently, trying to ease the tension she felt growing between them, "I didn’t mean to upset you. I just… I worry about you, and about him. You’re both under so much pressure, and I only want to see you happy."

Rhaenyra forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "We’re fine, Alicent. Truly. There’s no need to worry about us."

But Alicent wasn’t easily dissuaded. She hesitated for a moment, then asked tentatively, "Has your brother ever talked to you about… about whether he’s interested in anyone? About what he might want in a companion?"

Rhaenyra’s smile faded entirely, replaced by a flicker of irritation. The last thing she wanted was to discuss her brother’s potential romantic interests, especially when her own feelings were so conflicted. "I don’t want to talk about Y/N anymore," she said firmly, her tone brooking no argument.

Alicent blinked in surprise, taken aback by the sudden shift in Rhaenyra’s demeanor. "Of course," she said quickly, her voice soft and conciliatory. "I’m sorry, Rhaenyra. I didn’t mean to pry."

Rhaenyra sighed, her irritation beginning to ebb away as she saw the look of concern on Alicent’s face. She knew her friend meant well, but the topic was too fraught, too complicated for her to discuss, even with someone as close as Alicent. "It’s not your fault," she admitted, her tone softer now. "There are just… things I don’t want to think about right now."

Alicent nodded, understanding that some topics were better left alone. She reached out and gently squeezed Rhaenyra’s hand, offering her a small, reassuring smile. "Then we won’t talk about it anymore. Let’s just enjoy the gardens and forget about everything else, even if it’s just for a little while."

Rhaenyra returned the smile, grateful for the change of subject. "Yes, let’s."

The two friends continued their walk through the gardens, the earlier tension slowly dissipating as they moved on to lighter topics—memories of their childhood, amusing stories from the court, and plans for the upcoming festivals. But even as Rhaenyra laughed and talked, her mind kept drifting back to her brother, to the unspoken tension that had been simmering between them since that day in the Dragonpit.

She couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking, what he was feeling. Was he as troubled by what had happened as she was? Or had he simply chosen to bury it, to pretend it never happened, as he seemed to be doing? The thought of him being so unaffected by it made her chest ache, though she wasn’t sure if it was from hurt or anger.

As the afternoon wore on, Rhaenyra found herself growing more and more restless, her thoughts in turmoil. She knew she would have to confront these feelings eventually, but for now, she pushed them down, determined to enjoy the time with Alicent, to hold on to the simplicity of their friendship, even as the complexities of her emotions threatened to overwhelm her.

And though she didn’t voice it, the thought of her brother finding a match, of him being with someone else, brought a twist of something dark and unwelcome in her heart—something she wasn’t ready to name or confront just yet.

For now, she would let it lie, unresolved and unspoken, just as he seemed to be doing. But deep down, she knew it wouldn’t stay buried forever.

The evening was quiet in your chambers, the only sound the soft scrape of cloth against steel as you carefully cleaned your ancestral sword, Blackfyre. The blade gleamed in the flickering candlelight, its edge sharp and true, a testament to the craftsmanship that had forged it and to the many battles it had seen. The sword had been by your side through countless skirmishes, a symbol of the legacy you carried and the duty that weighed heavily upon your shoulders.

As you moved the cloth over the blade, your thoughts drifted, as they so often did, to the burdens that came with being the heir to the Iron Throne. The expectations, the responsibilities, the constant need to prove yourself—it was a weight you had carried for as long as you could remember. And now, with the council’s pressure to find a match and secure the future of House Targaryen, that weight felt heavier than ever.

But there was something else, something that lingered at the edges of your mind, refusing to be pushed aside. It was the memory of that day with Rhaenyra in the Dragonpit, the moment when laughter had turned to something else entirely, something that neither of you had spoken of since. You tried to push it away, to bury it deep within yourself, but it kept resurfacing at the strangest times, like now, as you sat alone in your chambers.

With a frustrated sigh, you set the sword down on the table, running a hand through your hair as you tried to clear your mind. But the memory persisted, and with it came a flood of emotions that you struggled to contain. You knew you couldn’t afford to dwell on it, not with everything else that demanded your attention, but it was easier said than done.

In an effort to distract yourself, your thoughts drifted back to a different time, to a memory that had been both terrifying and transformative—one that had shaped you in ways you were only now beginning to understand.

You were seven years old, and your family had traveled to Dragonstone for a short stay. It was a place of ancient power and beauty, a fortress carved from the volcanic rock of the island, with the ever-present sea crashing against its shores. You had always been drawn to the wildness of the place, to the sense of freedom that came with being so close to the elements.

On that particular day, you had managed to slip away from your mother and your three-year-old sister, Rhaenyra. It wasn’t the first time you had wandered off on your own, and it wouldn’t be the last. Even at that young age, you had a restless spirit, always eager to explore, to push the boundaries of what was expected of you.

You had made your way down to the shores, where the black rocks jutted out into the sea like the teeth of some great beast. The waves were fierce that day, the wind whipping at your hair as you scrambled over the rocks, feeling invincible in the way that only a child can. The sea was both a challenge and a companion, its roar filling your ears as you ventured further along the rocky shore.

But then, in an instant, everything changed. Your foot slipped on a slick patch of rock, and before you knew it, you were tumbling down, down into the cold, unforgiving embrace of the sea. The waves, so beautiful and exhilarating from the safety of the shore, now became your enemy, pulling you deeper into the current, dragging you away from the land.

You struggled, panic flooding your young mind as the water closed over your head. You kicked and flailed, but the sea was stronger, relentless in its pull. Salt water filled your mouth and lungs as you gasped for air that wasn’t there. The world above, the sky, the cliffs, everything began to fade as the dark, cold water claimed you.

In that moment, you thought you were going to die. The terror of it was overwhelming, the realization that you were utterly powerless against the force of the sea. You could feel yourself sinking, your small body growing weaker as the blackness closed in around you.

But then, just as the last of your strength was ebbing away, a shadow passed over you. You didn’t see it at first, your vision blurred by the water and the darkness, but you felt it—the rush of water displaced by something massive moving through the sea.

And then, with a suddenness that took your breath away (what little breath you had left), you were lifted from the water, the force of it almost knocking you unconscious. But instead of the crushing weight of the sea, you felt the cool, leathery skin of something far larger than you could comprehend.

It was Silverwing.

She had come for you, your bond with her stronger even than the pull of the sea. You felt her claws wrap around you, not tight enough to hurt, but firm enough to pull you free of the water’s grasp. She soared upward, her great wings beating against the air as she lifted you out of the depths and into the open sky.

The cold air hit your face, shocking your senses back to life as Silverwing flew over the beach and deposited you onto the shore. You hit the ground hard, the impact jarring your lungs and sending a rush of salt water spewing from your mouth. Silverwing nudged you with her massive head, her breath hot and insistent as she pushed you, rolled you over and over on the beach until you vomited up the seawater that had clogged your lungs.

You were coughing, sputtering, but alive, the blackness retreating as you drew in deep, desperate breaths of air. Your body was trembling, soaked to the bone, but the warmth of Silverwing’s presence beside you, her protective nudges, kept you grounded.

And then, through the fog of your disoriented mind, you heard voices—frantic, terrified voices, calling your name.

Your father, Viserys, was the first to reach you, his face pale with fear as he knelt beside you, his hands shaking as he checked you over. "Gods, Y/N," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. "What were you thinking? What were you doing?"

Before you could answer, your mother, Aemma, rushed forward, tears streaming down her face as she dropped to her knees beside you. She pulled you into her arms, holding you so tightly that it almost hurt, her sobs shaking her entire body.

"Y/N… my baby," she cried, her voice breaking with relief and anguish. "You’re alive… you’re alive…"

You were too shocked, too overwhelmed to say anything, your small body trembling as you clung to your mother. The terror of what had just happened still lingered in your mind, the memory of the cold, dark water threatening to pull you back under. But the warmth of your mother’s embrace, the sound of her voice, and the presence of your family around you began to soothe the fear.

Ser Harrold Westerling and the rest of the Kingsguard arrived moments later, their armor clanking as they surrounded you, their faces a mixture of relief and concern. But all you could focus on was the way your mother held you, her hands gently stroking your hair, her voice murmuring reassurances as if to convince herself that you were really there, really safe.

Viserys, his own hands still trembling, placed a hand on Silverwing’s massive head, his voice filled with gratitude. "Thank the gods for you, Silverwing," he said softly. "You saved my son… you saved him."

Silverwing, for her part, let out a low, rumbling purr, her eyes fixed on you as if she understood exactly what had just happened. She had always been more than just a dragon to you—she was your protector, your companion, your bondmate in ways that went beyond simple words. In that moment, you knew that you would be connected to her for life, that the bond between you was forged in something far deeper than mere loyalty.

Aemma pulled back slightly, her tear-streaked face hovering inches from yours as she searched your eyes, her own filled with a mixture of relief and lingering fear. "Don’t you ever… ever do that again," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I can’t lose you, Y/N. I can’t…"

You nodded weakly, too exhausted to speak, but you understood. The fear in her voice, the desperation in her eyes—it was the same fear that had gripped you when you were under the water, the same fear that had almost consumed you. But now, held close in your mother’s arms, surrounded by your family and the warmth of Silverwing’s presence, you knew that you were safe.

The memory of that day had stayed with you, a reminder of both the fragility of life and the strength of the bonds that held you to those you loved. It was a day that had shaped you in ways you hadn’t fully understood at the time, but now, as you sat in your chambers, polishing your sword and reflecting on the past, you began to see it more clearly.

The fear you had felt that day, the desperation, the longing for safety—it was something you carried with you still. But it was also balanced by the strength of your connection with Silverwing, with your family, with the responsibilities that had been placed on your shoulders. You had faced death and survived, and you had done so with the help of those who loved you.

As you set the sword aside, the memory of that day lingered in your mind, a reminder of how far you had come since then. You were no longer that frightened child, lost in the waves, but a man who had faced many battles and had come through them stronger.

But even so, there were still battles to be fought, both on the field and within your own heart.

The memory of that fateful day on Dragonstone still lingered in your mind, a haunting echo of a time when life had been simpler, when the weight of the world hadn’t yet settled on your shoulders. You let out a slow breath, your thoughts tangled between the past and the present, when suddenly the door to your chambers swung open with a force that startled you out of your reverie.

Without so much as a knock or a word from the guards outside, your uncle, Daemon Targaryen, strode into the room with his characteristic swagger. He moved with the confidence of a man who had little regard for protocol or propriety, his presence filling the chamber with an almost palpable energy. Daemon had always been like that—a force of nature, impossible to ignore and equally impossible to fully understand.

You couldn’t help but smile, amused by his entrance, as you watched him cross the room without hesitation. Daemon didn’t bother with pleasantries or explanations; he simply took the seat opposite you, stretching out with a casual ease as if this were his own chambers and not yours. His sharp eyes flicked over you, taking in your posture and the expression on your face, and you could tell he was sizing you up, as he often did.

"Brooding again, are we?" Daemon’s voice was laced with that familiar mix of sarcasm and genuine curiosity, his words half a jest and half a challenge.

You shook your head, still smiling as you met his gaze. "Just feeling contemplative this evening, Uncle."

Daemon snorted, a sound that was half-amused, half-derisive. "Contemplative? Sounds like any other evening for you, then."

You chuckled softly, acknowledging the truth in his words. "Perhaps. But it’s harder than I thought, just sitting here, doing nothing. I’m not used to it."

Daemon nodded, a knowing glint in his eye. "Aye, I know the feeling well. The silence can be deafening when you’re accustomed to action." He leaned forward slightly, his tone turning conspiratorial. "Tell you what, nephew—why don’t we take a little trip into the city? Just the two of us, Targaryen princes lost to anonymity in the Streets of Silk. Could do you some good, get your mind off whatever’s plaguing you."

You looked up at Daemon, considering the offer. There was a certain appeal to the idea—escaping the confines of the Red Keep, losing yourself in the bustling, chaotic streets of King’s Landing where no one knew your name or cared about your title. It was a temptation you had indulged in before, though not as often as Daemon.

But tonight… tonight, something held you back. Perhaps it was the weight of the thoughts that had been troubling you, or perhaps it was the sense that this evening needed to be one of reflection rather than distraction.

You sighed and shook your head, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "I think I’ll have to decline this time, Uncle."

Daemon rolled his eyes, but the corners of his lips curled into a wry smile. "Ah, as usual then. You’re acting like a prude, Y/N." There was no real malice in his words, just the familiar teasing that had defined much of your relationship with him.

You couldn’t help but jest in return. "And you’re acting like a scoundrel, as usual."

Daemon laughed, a short, sharp bark of sound that filled the room. "That’s the spirit!" He leaned back in his chair, his eyes gleaming with mischief, but there was something else there too—something more serious, lurking beneath the surface.

The laughter faded, and a more comfortable silence settled between you. It was a silence born of years of shared experiences, of battles fought side by side, and of the unspoken understanding that came with being part of the same powerful, often tumultuous family.

After a moment, you decided to steer the conversation away from the city and toward something that had been on your mind. "Shouldn’t you be with your wife in the Vale, Uncle? I’d imagine the Lady Rhea might be missing you."

Daemon’s expression darkened at the mention of his wife, and he scoffed dismissively. "My place is here, Y/N. By my brother’s side, and yours, for that matter. My ‘Bronze Bitch’ can wait. The Vale has no need of me, and I have no desire to return to that dreary place."

You knew better than to press him further on the matter of his marriage. Daemon’s disdain for Lady Rhea Royce was no secret, and it was a topic that never failed to put him in a foul mood. So you let it drop, focusing instead on the bond you shared as members of House Targaryen.

The silence stretched on for a while longer, the flickering light of the candles casting long shadows across the room. Daemon’s demeanor shifted, and you could tell he was weighing his words carefully, something that was rare for him.

When he finally spoke, his tone was serious, devoid of the usual sarcasm and bravado. "Listen to me, nephew," he said quietly, leaning forward once more. "If you don’t take matters into your own hands, they’ll do to you what they’ve done to me. They’ll marry you off to some woman of their choosing, bind you to a fate not of your making. The lords and the council—they’re vultures, all of them. They’ll pick at your bones if you let them."

You met his gaze, the weight of his words sinking in. Daemon’s warning was not without merit. You had seen how the council operated, how they maneuvered and manipulated to achieve their ends. And while you had always tried to walk the line between duty and personal freedom, there was no denying that your position as the heir to the Iron Throne made you a target for their schemes.

You nodded slowly, acknowledging the truth in his warning. "I know, Uncle. I know."

Daemon studied you for a moment longer, as if trying to gauge whether his words had truly sunk in. Then, with a sigh, he pushed himself up from the chair, his usual nonchalance returning as he headed toward the door. "If you change your mind about the city, you know where to find me," he said over his shoulder, his tone lighter now.

You watched him go, a mixture of gratitude and resignation settling in your chest. Daemon had always been a paradox—fiercely loyal to his family, yet constantly challenging the boundaries set by that same family. His advice, though often wrapped in cynicism and rebellion, came from a place of experience and hard-earned wisdom.

As the door closed behind him, the silence of your chambers returned, more profound now after Daemon’s departure. You sat there for a long moment, the weight of his words echoing in your mind, along with the memories and thoughts that had been troubling you all evening.

You knew that decisions would have to be made, that the future of House Targaryen rested on your shoulders in more ways than one. But for now, you let yourself sit in the quiet, contemplating the path that lay ahead, knowing that whatever choices you made, they would have to be yours and yours alone.

And as the candlelight flickered and the shadows danced across the walls, you couldn’t help but feel the pull of destiny, the ever-present weight of the dragon’s legacy, urging you forward into a future that was as uncertain as it was inevitable.

The corridors of the Red Keep were quiet as the night deepened, the usual bustle of the court replaced by the stillness that only came with the late hour. The tower of the Hand, where Lord Otto Hightower resided, was dimly lit by flickering torches, their light casting long, wavering shadows along the stone walls. Alicent Hightower moved through the halls with a sense of trepidation, her steps hesitant as she approached her father’s chambers.

She knew this conversation was inevitable. Her father had been pressuring her for weeks now, urging her to secure the attention of Prince Y/N, to make herself indispensable in the eyes of the Targaryen heir. But despite her efforts, the prince remained distant, polite but uninterested in anything more than the friendship she shared with his sister, Rhaenyra.

As Alicent reached the door to her father’s study, she paused, taking a deep breath before knocking softly. A moment later, Otto’s voice called from within, stern and unmistakable.

“Enter.”

Alicent pushed the door open and stepped inside, the warmth of the room hitting her as she crossed the threshold. The study was lined with shelves of books and scrolls, the accumulated knowledge of a lifetime spent in service to the crown. Otto Hightower stood by the window, his back to her as he looked out over the darkened city. The atmosphere in the room was tense, and Alicent could feel her father’s displeasure even before he turned to face her.

“Alicent,” Otto began, his voice cold and sharp. “I’m disappointed in you.”

The words cut deeper than any blade, and Alicent’s heart sank. She had always sought to please her father, to earn his approval, but tonight, it seemed she had failed once again. She clasped her hands in front of her, her fingers twisting nervously as she tried to find the right words.

“Father,” she said softly, “I’ve tried. I’ve done everything you asked of me. But the prince… he doesn’t seem to be interested in me.”

Otto turned away from the window, his expression hard and unforgiving. “And why is that, Alicent? Why does he remain indifferent to you when you’ve had every opportunity to make an impression?”

Alicent bit her lip, her eyes dropping to the floor. She didn’t know how to answer, didn’t know what more she could do to capture the prince’s attention. She had tried to be charming, to be kind, to show herself as a worthy companion. But Y/N was always distant, always polite but never more than that.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. “I don’t know what else I can do. He seems… distracted, preoccupied with other things.”

Otto’s eyes narrowed, his displeasure growing. “Other things? Other things? Alicent, you are not some ordinary lady of the court. You are the daughter of the Hand of the King, and it is your duty to secure the future of our house. If the prince is distracted, then it is your job to make him see that you are what he needs, what he cannot live without.”

Alicent felt a lump forming in her throat, the weight of her father’s expectations pressing down on her. She had always known that her position in court came with responsibilities, but the reality of it—the cold, calculated nature of her father’s plans—was something she struggled to accept.

“But Father,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper, “how can I force him to feel something he doesn’t? I’ve tried to be everything you’ve asked, but… he doesn’t see me that way.”

Otto’s expression hardened further, his patience wearing thin. He crossed the room to stand before her, his gaze piercing. “Then you must try harder, Alicent. You must be more than just a friend to his sister, more than just a kind face at court. You must make him see that you are the answer to the pressures he faces, the companion he needs to navigate the treacherous waters of this court.”

Alicent’s eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them back, determined not to show weakness in front of her father. She wanted to protest, to say that it wasn’t fair, that she shouldn’t have to manipulate someone’s feelings in this way. But she knew it would be pointless. Otto Hightower was a man who valued results, not excuses, and his ambitions for their family left no room for sentimentality.

“I understand, Father,” she said quietly, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “I’ll do better. I’ll find a way to make him see me.”

Otto’s expression softened, but only slightly. He placed a hand on her shoulder, a gesture that was more commanding than comforting. “Good. Remember, Alicent, the future of our house depends on you. Do not let anything stand in the way of that.”

Alicent nodded, though her heart ached with the weight of his words. She knew what was expected of her, knew the stakes involved. But as she turned to leave, the coldness of the task ahead filled her with a sense of dread. How could she make the prince see her, when all she wanted was to be seen for who she truly was, not for the role her father had assigned her?

As she left the tower and made her way back to her chambers, Alicent couldn’t shake the feeling that she was losing herself in her father’s ambitions, that each step she took toward securing Y/N’s favor was a step away from the person she wanted to be.

But what choice did she have? In the world of the court, where every move was scrutinized and every action had consequences, she knew that failure was not an option. She would have to find a way to win the prince’s attention, to secure her place in his life, no matter the cost.

And as she lay down that night, staring up at the ceiling, the weight of her father’s words pressed down on her like a suffocating blanket, leaving her with a sense of foreboding that she couldn’t quite shake.

#house of the dragon #hotd x male reader #hotd x y/n #hotd x reader #hotd x you #rhaenyra x y/n #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #house targaryen

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arthurs-better-half · 3 months ago

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John and Yellow (Mirrors and Monsters)

Reblogs much appreciated 👍

1. Julio Cortázar, Los Reyes // 2. Malevolent - Part 23 // 3. Brené Brown, Daring Greatly // 4. Brutus - The Buttress // 5. Malevolent - Part 40 "The Order" II // 6. Minotaur Forgiving Knossos - Moonface // 7. Dawning Night by Joseph Feely / Malevolent - Part 1 / Malevolent Part 21 // 8. Joan Tierney, The Elektra Complex // 9. Malevolent - Part 24 // 10. Bad Sun - The Bravery // 11. Minotauro (Minotaur) by Jordi Garriga Mora (2007) // 12. Malevolent - Part 40 "The Order" II // 13. Margaret Atwood, Corpse Song // 14. Repeat Until Death - Novo Amor // 15. Malevolent - Part 40 "The Order" II // 16. The Calling - The Amazing Devil // 17. @autistic-evil-xisuma (sorry for the tag) // 18. Bad Bad Things - AJJ // 19. Marie Howe, The Affliction // 20. Malevolent - Part 40 "The Order" II // 21. Ragnarok III: Strange Meeting - The Mechanisms // 22. a conversation about identity - tea // 23. Malevolent - Part 40 "The Order" // 24. Requiem - Death Note Musical (English concept album) // 25. Richard Silken, The Long and the Short Of It (Annotated)

(Playlist of the songs included (Spotify))

ARIADNE Why do you fear him? He is my brother. MINOS A monster has no siblings.

YELLOW: But it was me. I-In a way. ARTHUR (sighing): John. YELLOW: He was... different than me.

I want to experience your vulnerability but I don't want to be vulnerable Vulnerability is courage in you and inadequacy in me. I'm drawn to your vulnerability but repelled by mine.

But why do I lie awake each night thinking "Instead of you, it should be me"? Something wicked this way comes And as I set to face it, I'm unsure Should I embrace it, should I run? What motivates me? Hatred? Is it love?

ARTHUR (sighing, pityingly): Yellow. He never will. You are trapped with him. Forever. JOHN: Trapped?

I was born into this We were all born You were born like a pearl We were all born

YELLOW (in awe): There's a building, with lights on.

ENTITY (surprised): Well. ARTHUR: What? ENTITY: Nothing. I, I just... the city is so alive.

YELLOW: I... appreciate the life I saw. I... am at a loss for words.

ENTITY: I... the city... the life that exists on every street corner. It's... so different than the Dark World I thought I would forever call home.

I tip my head like a dog at the window. The outside world is so interesting, and I am not a part of it; I'm just witnessing.

JOHN: It's nothing, Arthur. I'm just telling you that every time you call him a monster, you're forgetting that I am the same.

I don't know what's wrong with us They just made us this way There's a hole in you and me That pulls us together

JOHN: If killing Larson kills Yellow... ARTHUR: Then you'll be fine! Stronger, maybe. JOHN: Or. I don't know if I can survive with only half a soul.

I exist in two places, here and where you are

Don't go, you're half of me now But I'm hardly stood proud

JOHN: I know you can't promise me. I know you aren't sure. But... Yellow is a piece of me. Can you imagine having to destroy a piece of yourself? Even if it's a reflection of yourself you may not like!

I look into the waters and see a face I don't recognise Who's this (Who are you)

people always talk about evil clones like oooh a dark mirror oohh what if you saw what a cruel person you were/are capable of becoming. and well yes but what if you were the evil clone. what if you looked in the mirror and what you saw was so bright it blinded you. what if you had to know exactly how good you could have been.

So I looked into your eyes And I saw a reflection Of a coward that you and I both hate very much

And he: (and this was almost unbearable) he saw me see him, and I saw him see me.

ARTHUR (quietly): But we all have to face our demons. Even if they're ourselves.

[Verse 2: THOR, LOKI, & Together] Where are you going? For vengeance For love

You're losing in a staring contest With whatever's in your mirror You are me and I am you But we're not one and I'm inferior

YELLOW: I... I... (Quieter.) Why you, John? What did you have to offer? Why does he care about... you?

Gone, who was right or wrong Who was weak or strong Nothing left to learn

The question for this issue was Do you have a human soul and can you prove it? And, of course, there was no definitive answer.

[Tumblr has deleted progress on this like three times now so I'm posting it now while it's done before it can fuck it up again!!! And thank you @ghostnotoast for being so lovely here is the weave]

#statement given [original post]#malevolent john #malevolent yellow #malevolent podcast #malevolent #malevolent spoilers #john doe malevolent #john malevolent #yellow malevolent #malevolent 40 #malevolent 24 #malevolent 23 #malevolent 21 #web weave #web weaving #webweaving #web weavings #web weaves

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lights-at-night · 1 year ago

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anyway. omg litol creechur

im starting malevolent guys

#part 16 #i hope its friendly???#malevolent podcast #malevolent

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eand47 · 2 months ago

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Chapter I | The word of a Goddess

Summary: The Book of Peace - an ancient book which protects the twelve cities. Stored in the highest tower in the city of Syracuse, the book stands untouched as Prince Sabo brought it home. The prosperity it brings to humanity made it a target to the Goddess of discord Eris, who intends to bring chaos to the people of the twelve cities by making a deal with the famous pirate Portgas D Ace to steal it.

“You're not thinking big enough, Ace. Steal the book for ransom and you can be rich enough to lounge on the beach of a tropical island. Steal it for me, and you can buy the beach. And the island. And the world.” Said Eris, her voice sultry as she passed by Ace, fingers brushing his face.

Main characters: Portgas D Ace x Reader (female) & Eris - Goddess of Discord

Supporting characters: Luffy, Sabo, Marco, Thatch, Izo, Kiku, Whitebeard

Description: This story is entirely based on 'Sinbad: The Legend of the Seven Seas'! Of course I will add my own touch to it and things that are not part of the film, but still it will be following the animation storyline. A lot of lines that I liked from the movie will be included in the dialogue as well.

WARNINGS: explicit language, descriptions of violence, 16+ only, implied injury, illegal activities, physical violence, fighting, mentions of monsters.

Word Count: 6,5K

story masterlist | main masterlist | next chapter ->

NOTE: Here is the first chapter, I'm posting it earlier as I got sick and I couldn't go to work today ♡ Thank you all for supporting me as always ♡ I hope I get to meet your expectations in writing this story in the best way possible especially if you are big fan of the movie as much as I am. I'm definitely having so much fun writing Ace as Simbad so I cannot wait for the story to unfold further especially with the ideas I want to add to it ♡ Enjoy the first chapter and for those of you who are new here - English is not my first language so please if you see any mistakes let me know ♡

Tartarus – The Realm of Chaos. A place covered by ruins of empires and greedy kings; a place almost identical to Hell. Ruled by Eris – the Goddess of Discord, daughter of the primordial night goddess Nyx, she was the pure embodiment of chaos and destruction. She fuels competition and leaves discord in her wake, encouraging both sides of a battle, supporting both sides in an argument and bringing out the worst in people. Nothing good has ever come from her arrival and every time she would appear people will tremble in fear. Eris represents the true malevolence and deviance - she has no morals of good nor nobility, her heart was made of pure evil. She is spiteful, manipulative and passioned about world destruction waiting for the day when the mortal world will crumble in the ruins of her chaos.

Temples and myths portrayed her with wings, highlighting her nature traveling between her realm and the real world. But Eris has no wings, she doesn’t need ones. Her body is not as of a human, even though it appears as one. Tall and slender, eyes bloody red with a yellow background cornea, and a long black hair that flies all over the place with any movement she makes, her shape and form can shift and change. Her forms come from both how she wishes to appear and how her emotions emanate. Eris can control the darkness and merge with it, becoming a shadow herself as her mother Nyx. Yet as a Goddess her face is something every sailor, every king and many gods have fallen for. Her beauty is as destructive as her powers.

The realm of chaos was inhabited by her children – the godly monsters made into constellations. Calling upon them the Goddess entered her realm of constellations looking down upon her globe of Earth.

“Wake up my beauties. Rise and shine.” She called and her children assembled around her. “It’s a new day in the mortal world. Ah, what a beautiful day it’s in there. So peaceful... so boring.” Taking a good look at the Earth, Eris attention got caught by a noble ship in the southern sea. “Just look at them. I pull one tiny thread and their whole world unravels into chaos. Glorious chaos.” Pulling a string out of the globe she chuckled to herself. What a day, not only the ship was led by a noble prince, but he was also carrying a valuable treasure for the humanity on it. Something Eris was looking for some time now – The Book of Peace. “A noble price, a priceless treasure and a black-hearted thief. This couldn’t have been more perfect.” The pirate-ship pursuing the prince’s one didn’t escape her sight. “Oh, this is going to be fun.” Turning around she reached with her hand to one of her children – Cetus, a large Krake-like monster. His body was long eel-ed with eight tentacles, a long tail and a head crown shaped like a fish frill with eyes as yellow as his mother’s. “Cetus?” The monster came closer to his mother once it heard her calling it. “You know what to do.” She purred. “Let the games begin.”

Lit by the sun the calm waves of the sea were sparkling, making the endless sight of water on the horizon look mesmerizing. Drifted by the breeze, the massive sleek mahogany color ship was cutting the waves with ease, chasing after the noble royal blue ship in front of it. Pristine and well-maintained, the ship gleamed in the sunlight. The ship had three tall masts with sails in a beautiful burnt orange colour with lighter colour flames embroidered on them. On the deck the small crew of six people was standing in a line listening to their captain’s orders.

“Gentlemen, this is what we have been waiting for.” The captain announced, while taking steady steps towards the bow of the ship, a dog by his side – Spike was following him. “The world’s most valuable object it’s on it’s way to Syracuse – or in other words – our ticket to paradise.” Standing on the bow of the ship and taking a good look at the massive blue royal ship in front of him, he turned to his crew with a big grin on his face. “It’s a shame it’ll never get there.” He said with a confident cocky voice. Laughter from the crew and barks from Spike cheered loudly on the deck. “After today, we retire to Fiji.” His announce made his crew cheer once more as they were ready to fight. Guns shots, swords and matchets were ready to be used as everyone have been waiting for this moment for so long. “Marco.” The captain called for the tall blond man, who was his right hand.

“Aye, Captain.” He responded to his captain, taking a stance next to the helm.

“Spike.” The captain yelled from the bow at his dog giving it a command to pull the lever which activated the ship’s sides blades. Once they were out, Marco manoeuvred the ship getting it as close as possible next to the royal one, and the moment they caught on them he turned the helm in the direction of it and strike it. “Let’s get rich.” Screamed their captain as he grabbed on one of the ropes from the sails and swing with it. He hopped on the royal ship with swift moves declaring his attack on his opponents. His crew and dog followed him immediately. Marco was fast to tear apart a piece of wood from the royal ship and knocked with it at least five men with a single move. Thatch wasted no time and pulled his machetes fast getting into the fight knocking down guards left and right. Even Spike, who was a very smart dog, has knocked two of the guards down, though for him it was like a game not realising the danger he or his owner were in. Speaking of his owner, the black-haired captain, who was surrounded by guards attacking him from all sides, instead of being scared or in distress because of the situation he was in, he was having quite the fun. Kicking and knocking guards left and right, easily taking their swords and handling them with swift moves, it all was like a children’s game to him. With more guards running towards him, he spiked the two swords he had in his hands on the deck’s floor and in one smooth motion, he turned his body clockwise with his hands on the swords and knocked down all the guards.

“Yo, Marco.” He turned to his right-hand man, who was busy on choking a guy between his armpit and forearm. “Did you catch this last move? Pretty cool, hu?” The cocky captain chuckled.

“I thought you overworked it.” Marco responded unimpressed. “Just a pit.” He gestured with his fingers how ‘little’ his captain overworked himself and then landed his fist on the guard knocking him off completely.

“Overworked it?” The captain sighed in disbelief. He didn’t, he was sure he looked pretty cool while fighting the guards. Another guard ran towards them with his sword raised high in the air, only for Marco to caught it with his teeth and threw him off the deck with one move. “Oh, and I was overworking it?” His captain exclaimed as he looked at him over his shoulder. Turning around the captain’s eyes widened, and cocky smile disappeared. On the upper deck he saw no other but the Prince of Syracuse himself. “Sabo.” He said to himself. There on the deck was the prince – a tall, blonde man dressed in his noble blue clothes that represents Syracuse.

“Hm, didn’t expect this? How long has it been since you last saw each other?” Marco asked as he saw the way his captain’s shoulders sagged at the sight of his childhood best friend.

“About a lifetime ago.” Was the only response he got. Walking towards the upper deck, the dark-haired man observed the way the prince was taking down two of his crewmates. “I see you are still fighting like a price.” Chuckled the pirate as he stood behind the prince’s back with his arms crossed and a smug smirk on his face.

“Ace?” A smile appeared on the prince’s lips as he immediately recognised the voice, but the guy he knocked down has jumped back on his feet and pushed the price to the ground. Ace’s crew took a hold of Sabo, but he pushed them away. The prince couldn’t believe his eyes – his long-time lost childhood best friend, who he once considered a brother, was standing right in front of him. Now not as a child or teenager anymore, but as a grown man. With his broad muscular chest on display as only a pair of dark knee-length pants were hanged around his hips and a yellow unbuttoned shirt covered his back with an orange cowboy hat on top of his head, he hasn’t changed that much. His cocky smile was the same, his dark brown eyes were still full of mischief and his face was still covered in freckles. The only difference was that now Ace has gotten taller and much more muscular than before. “What are you doing here?” Sabo was still in disbelief.

“Working.” Ace raised his eyebrows as he mischievously smirked at Sabo and pulled out his dagger from the back of his belt. With one swift move he pierced the door handle with the it and broke it. Taking a look over his shoulder at Sabo, he chuckled. “What about you?”

“What happened to you? Where have you been all this time?” Sabo couldn’t believe how ignorant his friend was being. All these years, ten to be exact, Ace was gone. One day he just disappeared, and Sabo never heard of him again, until today. “Also where is Luffy? I’m sure he came with you.”

“I would love to catch up man, but I have stuffs to do, you know?” Ace turned to look at him once more. “Places to be, things to steal, the usual. And Luffy should be somewhere around here.” He clicked with his tongue and opened the door, not planning on paying any more attention to Sabo. His crew started laughing but Sabo wasn’t having it, instead he followed Ace inside the cabin. Taking a step in Ace whistled once his eyes landed on the treasure in front of him – the Book of Peace. The infamous book, which was known to bring peace among the twelve cities, protecting them from misfortune and chaos. The book was known to be lost but that was only a rumour. If the book was lost or stolen the twelve cities would collapse immediately. It was known that this rumour was created only for pirates and criminals to not go after it – but thanks to Sabo, Ace was aware about this. So now, nothing could stop him from stealing it. He didn’t give a single damn about the people of the twelve cities, so he didn’t care what would happen to them once he has it. Before he can take another step in, Sabo stepped in and placed his hands on Ace’s shoulders stopping him from moving any further into the room.

“Ace, we need to talk.” Sabo’s voice and face were stern as his eyes shifted between Ace and the book.

“Heard about it, read about it, never actually seen it.” Ace jerked away Sabo’s hands and walked into the cabin. Laying open, the book was standing in the middle of the room in all its glory. An ancient priceless treasure. Its blue glow was reflecting on Ace’s face, where his smile was growing bigger with every second. “The Book of Peace.” He breathed out.

“Don’t you even think about it, Ace.” Sabo was quick to warn him as he stood right next to him. “It’s my job to bring it back safety to Syracuse.” He glanced at Ace, with his pierced blue eyes.

“Oh, shit man. Really?” Ace hissed mockingly as he slapped his thigh on the side. “Now, I will feel bad, because you will get fired.” He said as he patted Sabo on the shoulder. Mesmerised by the book Ace started circling around it taking a better look from all its sides. Oh, the amount of money and gold he was going to get for this book. He could see himself and his crew already living in the paradise of Fiji.

“Ace, you can’t be serious.” Sabo’s brows frown as he couldn’t believe what he just heard. Has Ace really turned this heartless? “You disappeared for ten years, on top of it took Luffy away with you, and now you are showing up and you plan to rob me?” He half raised his hands in the air, waiting for an explanation from the man once he called his brother.

“First of all, I didn’t make Luffy come with me, okay? He followed me without me knowing.” Ace pointed his finger to Sabo as he wanted to be clear about why and how ‘their’ little brother ended up disappearing with him. “And I really am sorry, man. I really wish it wasn’t you I was stealing the book from, but...” Ace half shrugged as he stood next to Sabo once again.

“But it’s me Ace.” Sabo’s voice was filled with a lot of mix emotions right now – disbelief, anger, regret but also hope and happiness. The fact that he was seeing Ace after ten years was still unreal to him, also knowing that Luffy was somewhere close by was making his heart filled with excitement. At the end, till this day he was considering these two boys for his blood brothers even thought they weren’t, but the packed they made as kids was something he was panning on honouring till his last day on Earth.

“Sabo...” Ace exhaled before he looked at his long-time friend. “We might of share a glass of sake and fought next to each other as kids, but you see this is the key word – kids. Yea, it was fun, but again – kids.” Ace said as his cockiness and mockery didn’t even drop with one notch.

“We were brothers.” Sabo took a step closer to Ace as he couldn’t listen to his nonsense anymore. “Ace, you are not stealing the book. Not from me.” He shook his head and pointed at the book with the palm of his hand. “And what would you do with the book anyway? This book protects hundreds of thousands of people.”

“Exactly.” Ace exclaimed excitedly. “Now imagine how much you would pay to get it back.” He raised his brows and nudged Sabo on the sides with his elbow. Sabo took a stance in front of Ace and the book and raised his finger warningly at him.

“Let me say this one more time, as it seems you that you don’t get it Ace.” He snapped. “A long time ago – Luffy, you and I were brothers. And if that ever meant anything for you, you would leave now, and I will pretend that this attack on my ship has never happened.”

“Ah, you are right.” Ace shrugged and turned around taking a step away from Sabo. “That was a long time ago.” Taking his sword out, him and Sabo clashed their blades at the same time. With a smooth swift move with his leg Sabo tried to bring Ace down but Ace dodged it by jumping and taking a step back.

“Come on, Sabo. Don’t play all heroic with me. I know deep down you still want to be a pirate.” Ace smirked as he fidgeted the sword easily with his hand. Before Sabo had the time to react Ace attacked him once again. He wasn’t planning on giving up, even if it meant stabbing his childhood friend. Their blades crashed once more as they stood face to face.

“I’ve grown up, Ace. Now if you want the book you will have to go through m-” A loud bang and impact shook the ship as the wooden wall broke and a tentacle broke apart the once so-called brothers. Shaking their heads from the shock of the scene in front of them Ace and Sabo shared a confused look.

“What the hell?” Ace exclaimed and run outside as he heard yelling from his crew and guards. Sabo followed after him and stopped once he saw Ace freezing for a second. The scene in front of them was out of a mythical legend. At the bow of the ship a Kraken-like monster was attacking everyone. Guards were trying to protect the ship, but the monster was ten times stronger than any of them. Taking a quick glance at his ship, Ace smiled as he saw his crew was safe on it. While the guards were fighting the sea monster, Spike unable to understand the danger, ran after one of the monster’s tentacles and bit on it. Ace chuckled at the sight. “Go, Spike.” The monster easily threw the dog in the air sending it flying towards his owner’s ship. Ace laughed as he saw his dog enjoying himself as he landed securely in the arms of the old man in his crew – Whitebeard. For an old guy in his late sixties, he was quite strong and well built.

“Ace.” A loud scream echoed around. Turning his head to where the sound came from Ace’s smile grew bigger. Sabo followed his gaze, and a big grin appeared in his face as well.

“God, he has grown so much.” Sabo couldn’t believe his eyes once again today. There wrapped around the ropes, hopping on them like a monkey on a vine, was the guy he has considered as a little brother – Luffy. Now, that he has grown up even more, his resemblance with Ace was even scarier, considering the fact that the two of them weren’t biological brothers. Yet, till this day Sabo was sure that they shared at least one parent, but they would never know as both were orphans. “You two look alike even more now.” Sabo nudged Ace with his elbow. A makeshift puff of laugher left Ace’s nose as he put his sword back and started to walk away. “Wait, where are you going?” Sabo grabbed his shoulder and turned Ace around.

“I see you are busy, and my crew is waiting. So, uh, we stay in touch.” Ace bumped him on the shoulder and walked towards the railing of the ship ready to jump to his own.

“Sabo is that you?” Luffy screamed as he landed on his feet on the deck of Ace’s ship. “Oh my God, Sabo it’s you.” His eyes sparkled with excitement as he saw the guy who once was his second big brother.

“Luffy, long time no see.” Sabo said. It was like the three once’s brothers forgot that there was a big sea monster destroying the royal ship and swallowing alive half of Sabo’s crew.

“We catch up some other time with him, Luffy.” Ace interrupted them as he was ready to go back to his ship, but Sabo pulled him by the shoulder once more.

“You are just going to run away?”

“Uh, yea.” Ace snorted and just before he takes another step the Kraken-like monster raised his tail from the water, breaking the spikes off Ace’s ship that were holding the ships bridged and almost knocked him in the water.

“Ace.” Luffy screamed as he saw his brother almost falling from the railing. Getting his balance back, Ace frowned his brows now furious at the monster, if it wanted to destroy any ship it should focus on the royal one, not his.

“You fucking bastard. My ship.” He yelled at the monster, as he saw it hitting and breaking the right-side railings on his ship.

Meanwhile Sabo has joined the fight with the Kraken with his men. He wasn’t planning on giving up but when the monster knocked him on the ground for a third time now, for a second he was hopeless. The sea monster opened its mouth and a sharp like a blade tongue almost struck him but one of the guards jumped just in time to protect Sabo and the monster caught the guard instead. Sabo’s eyes widen in both despair and terror as he saw another of his men being swallowed into the monster’s mouth.

“Head’s up.” Turning from where the warning came from, Sabo saw Ace standing next to the cannon as he lit it up and then jumped on it, directing the lit cannon ball in the air. The monster caught it mid air with its tongue and ate it. Standing next to Sabo and helping him to get on his feet, Ace smirked. “Now, stand by for sushi.”

The monster rumbled in pain as the cannon ball exploded in its stomach, which led to it throwing up some kind of stomach juices covering both Ace and Sabo with it. Both whined grossed out by the phlegm that covered them as they tried cleaning the sticky juices from their bodies. Not only this, but it also threw up the last man it swallowed who fell in front of the brothers’ feet. Not wasting even, a second the guard picked up his sword and with a loud scream went to attack the monster again. “This one has balls. You better give him a raise.” Ace said as he followed the ballsy guard with his eyes. To their surprise the cannon ball didn’t do much damage to the monster, in fact it only angered it more. It started trashing the ship even more.

“Come on, Ace. We need to leave the ship.” Sabo yelled and grabbed Ace’s arm ready to run to safe their lives, but Ace stopped him.

“Stay your ground, man.” Ace smirked as he came up with a plan. Placing his thumb and index finger in his mouth he whistled loudly trying to grab the monster’s attention.

“What are you doing?” Sabo knew it was pointless to ask especially if Ace has already set his mind on something. Not paying attention to Sabo, Ace screamed after the monster.

“Hey! Hey, you! Lobster boy, over here!” It was a success. The monster pierced yellow eyes focused on him and Sabo and its sharp like a blade tongue quickly strike. Ace and Sabo jumped back, and it missed them, but the black-haired pirate was quick to take his dagger and pierced the monster’s tonged with it. The monster left a loud roar of pain as it couldn’t move with its tongue pierced to the deck’s floor. “Now, run.” Ace looked at Sabo and grabbed him by the shoulder to run.

“Pull back!” The prince called out for his men as he didn’t want anyone else to get hurt by the raged monster. In that moment one of the broken masts caught Ace’s attention and without wasting any time he grabbed the first rope he saw on the floor and took it in his hands.

“Sabo.” Ace yelled. “Grab hold and let’s go.” He threw one of the ends of the rope around the main mast and Sabo grabbed it immediately. Reaching with his hand to Sabo, Ace gave him a look that said: ‘for the good old times, trust me’ and his once brother grabbed on his hand without any doubt in mind. Both in tack, started climbing the massive mast as Ace stopped for a second and pulled with his teeth a dagger, that was stuck in the middle of it, as he would need more than the one he had for the sake of his plan to work. Once they got on top of the mast and balanced themself Sabo looked at Ace waiting for him to share the plan with him.

“And the plan is?”

“Very simple – try not to get killed.” Ace big cocky grin was placed once again on his face as he cut the rope which was holding the left end of the horizontal mast. Sabo was quick to catch one of the ropes by his side as the mast sharp left edge leaned and pointed at the monster’s head. “Here, you will need this.” Ace said as he handed the dagger to Sabo to catch it.

“Where are you going?” Sabo grunted as Ace jumped to hold himself on one of the ropes that was connected to the bow’s mast.

“Fishing.” Ace replied, which caused Sabo to grunt once more as right now was not the best time for jokes. With one swift move Ace jumped on the rope and balanced himself as he started walking to the other mast. “Left, right, left, right.” He was talking to himself as he was almost twenty meters high in the sky and the last thing he wanted was to fall on top of the monster, serving himself as a meal. Just a second before he jumps on the mast one of the monster’s long tentacles raised in the air and tore the rope, but it didn’t matter as Ace successfully landed on the mast. Balancing himself on it he looked at Sabo, who was carefully following his movement. Ace smiled at him as he pulled another sharp dagger from his belt and cut the right-side ropes which were holding this horizontal mast. Looking down Sabo finally understood Ace’s plan, now with both sharp edges pointing at the monster’s head. Rasing his dagger in the air Ace waited for Sabo to do the same before he screamed at him. “Sabo, now.” Cutting the ropes which were barely holding the masts, the two old friends screamed as they jumped off them and held strong on the ropes as they hung in the air. The sharp edges pierced through the monster’s head, and it fell defeated. Both – Ace and Sabo cheered, and so did everyone around them once they hopped back on the deck’s floor. “You, okay?”

“Yes, I am. Thank you for sticking around, Ace.” Sabo patted his shoulder as his heart filled with joy. He had missed this. All these years he couldn’t stop thinking and missing his two brothers who disappeared one day out of nowhere. But today was his lucky day as finally after ten years he got to see them both.

“Just like old time, man.” Ace would have lied if he said he didn’t enjoy it as well. He did miss his old friend which once he called his brother. As he placed his hand on Sabo’s shoulder his attention caught one of the monster’s tentacles moving in their direction “Look out.” Ace yelled but it was too late. Before Sabo could react for himself, Ace pushed him on the ground. The monster hit the pirate instead, dragging him in the water with itself.

“Ace.” Both Sabo and Luffy screamed as they saw their brother falling into the water. Sabo was ready to jump but the guards were quick to stop him, and so did Ace’s crew stop Luffy as he was an awful swimmer, and he couldn’t survive the vast sea.

Holding him in a strong hold one of the monster’s tentacles was wrapped around Ace’s body dragging him to the deepest of waters. Ace was fighting with all his power, but it was pointless as in the water the monster was even stronger than in the surface. He wasn’t sure how much air was left in his lungs as they were going deeper and deeper until a big shadow-like figure appeared in the water. Ace’s eyes widen as in front of him was standing a stunning goddess like woman. Just before he could pass out from the lack of oxygen, she blowed him a kiss which turned into a big bubble in the middle of the deep-sea water creating an air bubble where Ace could breathe. Gasping for air and on his knees, he was sure he had died and was already in his personal hell. Trying to stand up, the woman’s voice echoed around.

“This day began with such promise and now look.” The voice was sultry and very alluring, a voice for which any man would do any crime just to satisfy its owner. Ace moved his eyes in all directions, but they were so deep in the water barely any light was reaching them, so he could see nothing. Until the goddess like woman showed herself. Her big form appeared like a shadow in front of him. This woman was breathtaking beautiful – with a long black hair, eyes bloody red as her lips and just a long purple dress covering her body. If this was the devil, then Ace was happy for committing all these crimes and that he had died and ended in hell. “My sea monster child is deadly hurt, and I still don’t have the Book of Peace... all because of you Ace.” She shifted her form and now appeared even bigger in front of him, but still beautiful. And she did seem pissed with him. Taking a deep breath Ace finally spoke up.

“And you are?” He extended his hand in a gesture for her to introduce herself, with his cocky tone as aways.

“Eris, the Goddess of Discord.” She shifted her form again as her voice became suaver. “I’m sure you have seen my face on a temple walls.” Shifting her form again she stood in a goddess like form too display all her glory. Ace cursed himself, he was definitely in a trouble.

“You know, they don’t do you justice.” He chuckled at her with a charming smile. After all, there was no woman who had ever not melt into his charm. The Goddess just huffed and rolled her eyes.

“Huh-hu. Now - ” She pushed him on the chest with her giant finger as she was still in her gracious giant form. “About my sea monster.” She was pissed and Ace had to work his charm overtime now.

“Right. I’m sorry about that, Eris. If I knew he was one of yours I would have never.” He tried to be smooth with her, as he was quick to understand that she wasn’t the type to mess up with. “I doubt a heartfelt apology would do.” He played with his fingers as he was tiptoeing around her, careful to not get on her nerves. To his surprise her laughter echoed around them as her eyes pierced him.

“Heartfelt? From you?” She laughed arrogantly once again. “Ace, you don’t have a heart.” Her form shifted again and finally she appeared in a human size in front of Ace. He couldn’t help but lick his bottom lip as he saw her. Yes, he was in trouble. But seeing a Goddess like Eris appearing in front of him was worth the trouble... maybe. She started swaying her hips left to right and placed one hand on her waist as she was slowly and graciously walking towards him. “That’s what I like about you, Ace. Don’t worry, I will let you live.” Once Eris stood in front of him, she placed her hand on his cheek as she caressed it. Ace was in a trance; his eyes widen and mouth slightly gapped. “But there is this little thing you must do for me.” A smug and very luring smile spread across her face. “Steal the Book of Peace and bring it to me.” Placing her hands seducingly on her body she waited for Ace’s respond which didn’t take long.

“Sure, but you see - ” Ace scratched his chin as he gave her a wink. “I have my own plans for the book. Uh, ransom, like... get rich, um some ‘me’ stuff, you know.” He slowly walked away from her but just as he turned Eris was standing in front of him again, which startled Ace.

“You're not thinking big enough, Ace.” Eris started circling around him as she pulled a dragger out of the thin air and waved it in front of Ace’s face. “Steal the book for ransom and you can be rich enough to lounge on the beach of a tropical island.” She pointed the dragger at Ace and then with a smug smile and challenging eyes she pointed it at her. “Steal it for me, and you can buy the beach. And the island. And the world.” Her voice sultry, she passed by Ace now her fingers brushing his face. He crossed his hands and thought about it for a moment. He wasn’t stupid – a deal with the Goddess of Discord meant only one thing – a trap.

“Hm, so you let me live, you make me rich, and I retire to paradise.” He smirked to himself as he thought out loud. “So far so good, no downfalls. If there is no trap and you keep your word.” Now his tone became serious. There must be a trap, it sounded too good to be true.

“Ace, when a goddess gives her word, she is bound for all eternity.” With the dragger in her hand, she made a cross mark with it on her shoulder which didn’t bleed or left any scar it just lit and disappeared. Ace glanced at her and after a moment nodded his head; he would deal with the consequences of his decision later.

“Deal.” He said and Eris came closer to him, brushing his body with hers.

“I knew you would see my way.” Shifting to her goddess like size she made a cut with the dagger in the air opening a portal. “So, when you’ve stolen the Book, you will bring it to me in Tartarus, my realm of chaos. Follow the brightest star beyond the horizon and you will find yourself there.” Ace squinted his eyes a little as the portal and the star itself were too bright, but he made sure to take a good look at them.

“I guess I will see you there Eris.” He chuckled with a smirk once she closed the portal.

“It’s a date then, Ace.” She came closer to him with the dagger in her hand pointing it at his throat, making him gulped. With this move she was making herself clear that he shouldn’t even think of tricking her and that he must kept his word as well. With one swift move she made the dagger disappeared and chuckled. “So, where were we? Oh, yes, you were supposed to hold your breath.” Eris ran her finger across his full lips and pushed him as the air bubble they were in popped. The space around them filled with water and Ace found himself once again in the deepest part of the sea. With the lack of oxygen he quickly made his way to the surface. A sly smile spread across Eris lips. “He is so cute.” She said without moving her eyes from Ace to her sea monster child which appeared behind her in its outline constellation spirit form. “And so gullible.” Everything was going exactly according to her plan. All thanks to Ace. “Cetus, well done.” She finally turned to her child, now her tone sweet and gentle. The monster rumbled a purr as its mother praised him.

Coming on to the surface Ace took a deep gasp once his head was out of the water. Before he had any time to react a hand grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and easily lifted him up. With one swift swing he was on the floor on his ship’s deck. Luffy was quick to jump on him, caging him in a hug.

“Ace, you are alive. I was so worried, and these assholes didn’t let me come after you.” Luffy pulled away as he observed his brother to see if he had hurt himself.

“I’m okay Luffy, I’m not dying anytime soon.” Ace ruffled his brother’s hair as he stood up still unable to breath properly.

“Glad you made it, brother.” Izo, a tall slender man, who had a twin brother Kiku, came behind Ace and patted his shoulder.

“Pay up, he lived.” Kiku called after his twin as they were always betting for anything. It was the same coin going around between one pocket to the other all these years. Ace laughed as he heard what their bet was about this time.

“What happened down there?” Marco took a step closer to Ace.

“Yes, Ace. What happened you were gone for like ten minutes, never do this again.” Luffy scolded his brother as he really thought he had lost Ace. Still trying to fill his lungs with air Ace inhaled and exhaled before he started speaking.

“First – I’m not going anywhere Luffy. And second you wouldn’t believe me even if I tell you.” Ace said out of breath as talking seemed to be like an impossible task right now.

“Try me.” Marco crossed his arms across his chest waiting for Ace to explain. Shifting his eyes between Luffy and Marco he sighed and rolled them.

“So, I met the Goddess of Chaos - Eris down there, and she has a major crush on me, by the way and we made a deal that our first date is at her place after I steal the Book of Peace and bring it to her.” He said in one breath. Marco and Luffy looked at each other and burst out laughing and so did the rest of the crew as they heard the story.

“Ha, that was a good one. I guess we need to stop your access to oxygen more often.” Said Marco as he turned around to walk to the upper deck where the rudder was.

“Oh, I’m writing that down. Goddess of Chaos, haha, my ass.” Thatch laughed loudly as he followed Marco.

“So, no Book, no retirement. What do we do now, Ace?” Luffy, who he had already climbed on some ropes, asked as he hanged next to Ace.

“A little patience, Luffy.” Ace chuckled at his little brother. Always in a hurry this kid, now a grown man but still a kid in Ace’s eyes, he never mastered the power of patience. “Plus, we know where it’s going.” Ace pointed with his eyes towards Sabo’s royal ship which had taken quite lot of damage, but they were still going to make it to Syracuse without a problem. Luffy followed Ace’s gaze and smiled as he locked his eyes with Sabo who was looking at them both. Making sure that his brothers would hear him, Sabo shouted as loud as possible.

“Men, all sails to Syracuse.”

END NOTE: Describing a battle, fighting moves, a monster and a Goddess is so, so hard Imao. I really hope I manage to describe it in a way you guys could imagine it easily. But it was also fun, I really hope you enjoyed it. Reader is appearing in the next chapter so have patients (don't be like Luffy hihih). Thank you for reading my stories and ideas ♡ From the next chapter there will be more things that I have come up with to add, but still don't forget I'm following the movie storyline and that story is entirely based on it! Please comment you opinion as it's always very important to me ♡ Feel free to like and reblog as this way the story will reach more people ♡

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what-even-is-thiss · 4 months ago

Note

Who’s your favorite daedric prince? (Or Princes! Some people tie!)

I’ll rank them.

16. Molag Bal. Rapist. Don’t need to explain myself.

15. Meridia. Annoying. Against free will. Willingly hung out with Molag Bal. Isn’t on board with necromancy though so that’s fine

14. Hermaeus Mora. Has a cool lovecraftian vibe but he won’t leave me alone. Stop following me.

13. Mehrunes Dagon. Tried to invade Tamriel. Generally has rancid vibes.

12. Boethia. Hates the weak. Generally kind of a bitch. Genderfluid though so that’s fun.

11. Sanguine. Seems cool at first but I would not leave my drink unattended at one of his parties.

10. Clavicus Vile. Kind of a stupid man child that tries to trick you on purpose but he has a talking dog and helps you get better at talking to people so that moves him up on the list

9. Mephala. The only reason she’s not further down on this list is because she’s associated with the dunmer and I like the dunmer. Her blade isn’t that good. I killed all my friends for nothing.

8. Hircine. What is there to say about Hircine? Perfectly middle of the road kind of Daedra tbh. He’s a god of the hunt and encompasses all good and bad aspects of that.

7. Namira. I don’t enjoy the cannibalism part but I can vibe with making a god out of the rot and darkness of the world. That’s pretty cool. Her ring was pretty good in oblivion also.

6. Nocturnal. *shakes nocturnal by the shoulders* What do you want? What do you want? What is your problem, lady? Why do you let so many people steal from you?

5. Peryite. Probably the most underrated one. Yeah he’s a god of disease but he mostly keeps to himself and is more of a force of nature than a malevolent presence

4. Vaermina. I kinda vibe with the whole horrible nightmares thing like go off have a surrealist realm of oblivion that changes from one second to the next and feeds off of people’s greatest fears I love that for her

3. Sheogorath. I am a mentally ill person and a creative so why wouldn’t I put the god of creativity and madness high on the list? He’s funny and terrifying. Always a good combination.

2. Malacath. He mostly just cares about the orcs and takes care of them. He’s an overly strict dad and kind of violent but he’s still mostly okay.

1. Azura. As long as you tell her how pretty she is she’ll love you back. And she wants you to love yourself. Her main disadvantage is vanity but there are worse things. She’s the most chill of pretty much all of them.

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the-griffons-saddlebag · 2 years ago

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💎 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗺! Crown of the Cursed King Wondrous item, legendary (requires attunement) ___ This tarnished crown was originally worn by a maddened king, whose hunger for power could seemingly not be stopped. Only with old age was his reign brought to an eventual end, at which time all symbols of his power were systematically destroyed, including this crown. However, his malevolent spirit remains in the form of magical strands of force that hold its pieces together—a lasting sign of his unwillingness to cede his rule. The crown has the following properties. 𝘾𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚 𝘽𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙬𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩. While wearing this crown, you can use an action to touch a creature and cast the "bestow curse" spell on it from the crown (save DC 16). If you hit a creature with a melee attack, you can cast the spell on that creature in this way (as if you were touching it) before the end of your next turn. You must be able to see the creature. 𝘾𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚 𝙎𝙪𝙥𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣. While wearing this crown, any curse affecting you is suppressed. For each suppressed curse, you gain a +1 bonus to any attack roll, ability check, or saving throw you make (up to a maximum bonus of +3). Your attunement to a cursed magic item can't be ended voluntarily unless the curse is broken first, even if its effects are suppressed by the crown. Curses from an artifact can't be suppressed in this way. 𝙍𝙪𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙄𝙧𝙤𝙣 𝙁𝙞𝙨𝙩. While attuned to the crown, your Strength and Charisma scores each increase by 2, up to a maximum of 22. 𝘾𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚. This crown is cursed, and becoming attuned to it extends the curse to you. The effects of this curse aren't suppressed by the crown's Curse Suppression, but nevertheless contribute to the bonus you gain as part of that property. You are immune to the effects of "remove curse" while wearing the crown. While cursed, you gain the following flaw: "I am always in danger of losing everything. I must ensure my legacy is preserved." In addition, you are unwilling to part with the crown, wearing it atop your head at all times. It can't be removed from your head against your will. ___ ✨ Patrons get huge perks! Access this and hundreds of other item cards, art files, and compendium entries when you support The Griffon's Saddlebag on Patreon for less than $10 a month!

#illustration #digital art #dungeons and dragons #dnd #d&d

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curious-gnostic · 10 months ago

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john “recite poetry/play piano for me” doe

arthur “explode the boat with us inside” lester

#dude just wants art but hes in The Caves #malevolent #im on part 16 no spoilers

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monstersdownthepath · 6 months ago

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Monster Spotlight: Vilderavn

CR 16

Neutral Evil Medium Fey

Bestiary 5, pg. 268

Unlike our last few articles, these horrors are decidedly not just little guys, and are in fact one of the most vicious Fey we've ever seen. Unlike many malevolent Fey which are merely born from mortal misery and anguish, Vilderavn were directly created by an unnamed fey lord for the express purpose of destroying mortal armies and kingdoms, something they excel at to such a degree that they make excellent overarching villains in a campaign featuring a looming war and political intrigue. A Vilderavn, more than any other monster we've seen in several weeks, is not a monster to simply be dropped on the party! These bloody birds thrive at being shadowy puppetmasters behind a conflict, advisors to (what the party believes is) the Big Bad, or even potential backstabbing allies and resources to the party themselves, turning on them at the climax of the adventure!

And the best part is that it's extremely unlikely the party will see it coming. Don't think it's just as easy as spotting an ominous black knight with a raven motif; Vilderavn are accomplished shapeshifters with an extremely wide repertoire of possible forms, able to take on the form of any Small or Medium Humanoid, a black-feathered Peryton, a wolf, or a Dire Wolf. You may find it strange that a raven-themed knight doesn't turn into a raven, and that's because it already is one! The above picture? That's after it's shapeshifted. A Vilderavn in its NATURAL form is a gigantic raven, and this is the form it uses to swoop over battlefields and kingdoms it plans to destroy... and to appear before prospective allies as an omen of fate, offering nobles, soldiers, and mages its skill as an advisor, an oracle, and spellcaster to give them the edge they need in the coming war.

If you can't believe some ostensibly smart people could be so easily tricked into believing a dog-sized bird is here to help them, don't be so judgmental! That might seem suspicious to someone from Earth, but on Golarion the culture surrounding such events is quite different; after all, not only do stories of heroes cursed into the forms of animals and deities appearing to people in the shapes of animals abound, but the Psychopomps as a whole are often associated with carrion birds and possess powers over fate and fortune, both of which Vilderavn can manipulate with their powerful spells and Raven Hexes. Those Hexes have numerous uses both in and out of combat, one of which includes the ability to send Dream spells to up to 6 people a day, letting them sculpt a first impression LONG before they appear physically before their target.

This isn't even getting into their skills, such as +30 to Bluff and +21 to Diplomacy (and further heightened by their Charm Hex), or their spells, such as at-will Suggestion or a 1/day Mass Suggestion to steer opinions, send anyone who could call their bluffs out on errands, and create trust where there was none before, or even a 1/day Modify Memory to completely rewrite a victim's knowledge of events until the fey appears to be some sort of saint or savior. They can also offer a Limited Wish once per month to a mortal being to sweeten any deal they make, making them seem trustworthy even as manipulative malevolence swells within their hearts.

Even if appearing as an animal doesn't work, they can freely change into generic wise sages, charismatic nobles, intelligent generals, or imperfect copies of just about anyone... unless they pull a kill-and-replace. Any creature killed by a critical hit from their bite (including a coup de grace if they're unconscious or helpless) has their soul devoured by the fey, and from there on out, the Vilderavn not only has the ability to perfectly assume their form, but has access to all of their memories, making their imitation literally flawless unless someone can see through their disguise with magic (and it will likely HAVE to be magic, because their Bluff and Disguise shoot up to +40 when imitating a devoured victim). Even then, good luck convincing anyone of what you see, as everyone else is likely under the raven's dewclaw as it steadily kills its way into more and more important positions until, eventually, it can take command of events entirely.

Wow, all this and we haven't even gotten to what it can do in combat! We're going to have to put the rest of this under a cut!

Vilderavn tend to avoid combat right up until the point they can destroy an entire army with a single blow to its leadership, right after it's spend weeks or even months carefully sculpting their confidence by leading them to numerous smaller victories. Until then, they serve as excellent advisors and powerful spellcasters, able to use Dispel Magic at-will to shield themselves and their allies from enemy magic, Detect Thoughts at-will to sniff out dissent and betrayers among the ranks (along with anyone who could view them with suspicion), and Scrying at-will to spy on anyone who lacks protection from such invasive magic. They also have a handful of constant spells which make it almost impossible to sneak anything past them: Deathwatch, True Seeing, and Tongues. No vampires, illusionists, or hidden conversations in foreign languages will corrupt and mislead the leader the raven is trying to corrupt and mislead!

And speaking of corruption, Vilderavn are masters of the corrupt art of curses. Immune to curses themselves, they can freely cast Bestow Curse to personally torment anyone they desire and Geas 1/day to force annoyances on petty quest, and their aforementioned Raven Hexes also have a menagerie of debilitating curses and debuffs among them as well, including the crushing Misfortune, the action-economy-ruining Agony, the absolutely Fighter-punishing Retribution, and the ever-reliable Evil Eye... and capped off by the damning Dire Prophecy, a permanent -4 penalty to not only their AC, but most d20 rolls as well, including saving throws. The Prophecy can also be cashed in at any time by either the Vilderavn (if it's nearby) or the DM (if it's not), imposing a -18 penalty on the victim's AC or on an attack roll, combat maneuver check, skill check, or saving throw.

Where's the -18 come from? Well, they use their Hexes as if they were an 18th level Witch, and all of their Hex effects (as well as the DC, which is 25) are modified by the fey's Charisma rather than its Intelligence. Powerful enough on their own, anyone who's played alongside a high-level Witch knows that Hexes are extremely potent force multipliers when the rest of the party can take advantage of them, and this means if a Vilderavn has allies, it can safely sit back and use its 110ft fly speed to keep it out of trouble as it debilitates the party with its powerful Hexes... and caw-haw-haws at them with Cackle, keeping the punishment of Misfortune, Agony, or Evil Eye rolling round after round as its allies tear into the debuffed party.

UNLIKE a Witch, forcing a Vilderavn into melee doesn't mean you're home free, oh no. They're dangerous enough in their raven form, where Bloodbird tacks a stacking 1d6 bleed damage onto its Claw-Claw-Caw-Caw attacks, the former doing 1d6+11 and the latter 1d8+11. If you think that's a mistake on my part, no, the Vilderavn can indeed make TWO bite attacks with its beak whenever it Full-Attacks thanks to a constant Haste effect on itself. If that beak damage looks low, it really isn't, because it's got a critical range of 15-20, threatening a critical hit 25% of the time instead of 5%. With a single Full-Attack, the unkind knight can deal an average of about 70 damage AND stack up to 4d6 bleed onto a single victim, then fly backwards the next round and strike them with a Hex or two before flying back in to do it all over again.

But of course, it's rare for a Vilderavn to have allies it doesn't plan to slay itself. When it has already used (or cannot use) its spells or Hexes to weaken its foes, or when it simply wishes to display its martial skill and fight on even terms with a human, it takes the shape of the Raven Knight, shedding its natural armor and its terrible beak and claws but gaining +5 Full Plate and a +5 Cruel Keen Falchion. Its AC goes from 34 to 38 in its knight form, and its melee goes from four weak natural attacks to four powerful sword swings (despite its low BAB; remember a permanent Haste gives it an extra attack!) dealing 2d4+21 damage... while also keeping the same 15-20 critical hit range AND the stacking bleed, potentially dealing around 50 damage with one swing instead of needing four attacks to achieve the same result.

So, let's see, that's the offense, how about the defense... High AC, check. High saves? +17/+21/+18, check. DR 15/Cold Iron and Good, check. SR 27, also check. Permanent Freedom of Movement? Of course, we can't have a battle end with a single Hold Monster now, can we? No elemental immunities, but it IS immune to energy drain, death effects, and all forms of fear. I'm also receiving a note about its saves, hold on. Ah, no, my mistake, its saves are actually +22/+26/+23, because the Vilderavn DO have power over fate, which includes the ability to add +5 to any one saving throw of their choice each round as an immediate action, something they're likely to save when they're targeted by a powerful Save-or-Suck that they're not immune to, such as petrification, sleep effects, or nausea. There's no per-day limit on this ability, only per-round, so maybe ask your allies to pile on all their most powerful abilities at once?

Hah. 'Allies.' There's no one here that's your friend. At least, that's what you're going to think while in combat with the Vilderavn; anyone within 30ft of it is not only vulnerable to its Frightful Presence, but its FP is also attached to Shatter Loyalties, an ability that causes anyone affected by it to treat all other creatures as an enemy, thwarting not only teamwork, but teamwork feats, as well as flanking bonuses, movement in tight spaces, and of course: willingly accepting beneficial effects. Any creature whose loyalty has been shattered has to be forcibly administered any positive effect (and is allowed to make a save to resist such effects), and doesn't count as a valid target for any effect or ability that counts 'allies.' This shattering effect lasts until the victim is no longer within 30ft of the fey and bypasses fear immunity entirely, so the party Paladin may not be shaken up by the Frightful Presence, but if they fail the DC 26 Will save anyway, suddenly all their beneficial auras shut off for everyone else, leaving them more vulnerable to the raven knight's fierce spells and Hexes.

If the Vilderavn pauses its assault momentarily when it has someone at death's door, do not mistake it for a show of mercy. Remember that they can tear the souls from their mortal victims, but they can only do so while in raven form, as Soul Eater very specifically triggers from its bite attack. A party held at bay by its magic or laid low by its damage may only be able to watch in horror as it assumes raven form, climbs atop their fallen friend, and drives its beak deep into their chest, shearing their heart from their body and their soul with it (frightening everyone who sees it, or shaking them up if they succeed a DC 27 Will save). From there on out, it has full access to their memories, their personality, their very face, ready to destroy their lives and everything they had ever hoped to create... and if the DM is especially cruel, it may use Modify Memory on the only conscious witness to the act to make them think their ally is fine, that they managed to get away from that fiend! A fiend slithering its way into the party as it wears the fallen allies' face. Waiting for the chance to tear hope away from you all one final time.

You can read more about them here.

#monster spotlight #CR 16 to 20 #pathfinder #dungeons and dragons

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