#my fics: season 6

[amariram]

Sir Gwaine, Sir Percival and Sir Lancelot when at the banquet they see another foreign Lord hitting on Merlin in front of a very pissed Arthur.

[laurrelise]

peacefully scrolling through ao3 for a five + sibling bonding fluff fic because i was bummed about season 4 again and i suddenly come across…

………. mpreg five

[freetobeafcknriot]

the more I think about it the more I don't get how the hargreeves siblings were the problem like sure, s2 and s3 were on them but it was cause-effect to the very first apocalypse in 2019 and literally none of that would have happened if reginald had been just a tiny bit less of a shitty father to begin with. i get that the 43 children were anomalies but how was it on them for just existing ?

[edwinas]

what gets me is that amerie and malakai were never given a chance. first malakai is being secretive and amerie spirals so they break up, then malakai immediately dates someone else leaving amerie heartbroken, they either don't talk or fight, then malakai tries to kiss amerie but she stops him, amerie starts getting feelings for someone else, malakai fucking leave for switzerland and writes amerie a love letter that burns in the school fire.

the saddest part is that amerie and malakai love each other but never confessed..... they never stopped being in love.

[bunysliper]

Castle Ficlet: Off the Highest Shelf 1/1

Off the Highest Shelf A Deep Cover (6x12) Post-Ep

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He hesitates at the threshold to his bedroom - their bedroom - watching her. Although she'd left her coat and the impossibly tall boots she'd worn all day in the closet by the front door when they got home, she hasn't yet shed the rest of her armor, instead floating through the main areas of the loft in her jeans and her cream turtleneck for the evening. She hasn't been in their room at all as far as he can tell.

Until now.

And now Kate stands in her socked feet, staring at their bed with her lip pulled between her teeth. There's a tightness around her eyes that makes him wince, an exhaustion he hates seeing from his partner. After a moment, she sighs, runs a hand through her hair, and steps over to her side of the bed and starts tugging at the covers. Not with the intention of sliding into bed, but to strip the linens from the mattress.

A glimpse of red, already dark and browning with oxidation, reminds him why she can't just climb into bed and surrender to a restful night's sleep. He slips forward at that, joining her at the head of the bed on his side.

"Are you mad?" he asks as they work in an almost choreographed tandem, stripping the pillows and the duvet while she untucks the sheets and bundles them, carefully avoiding the blood - his father's blood - on her side.

"Well, I did like these sheets," she says, dry and contained. It's exactly the response that tells him she is angry, even if she doesn't quite realize it yet.

"That's… that's not what I mean. Are you angry about… my dad?"

Her face twitches just a bit and she sighs. "I'm frustrated that you kept it from me," she admits after a beat. "You had this entire experience in Paris last year and not only did you shut me out then, you continued to do it until now, until this case - until you had absolutely no choice but to bring me in on the family secret. Would you have even told me about him had I not stumbled upon him bleeding on my side of the bed with your mother tending to him?"

He opens his mouth to reply, to defend his decision not to tell her a year ago when Alexis was kidnapped and then to continue to hold that secret until just a few days ago, but sound doesn't make its way past his lips. Her fingers clench against the bundle of sheets and he moves to take them from her; though he's not sure if they are salvageable, he'll send them to the cleaners to have professionals try.

At first it doesn't seem like she's going to give up the linens, but when she does, she speaks again as well, "For years, you made it your mission to turn my life into an open book for you, whether I wanted it to be or not, but you're happy to stay locked up tight, to be a volume that's just high enough on a shelf to be considered off-limits, so nobody will try to read it."

"That's not-" Is it? He's not locked up tight; he shares plenty - doesn't he?

She licks her lips, running a hand through her hair before adding, "I'm trying. I'm trying to read it- you. I want to read you, as strange as it sounds to say out loud like that. You told me earlier tonight that you realized he's not family; that I am. So, start acting like it, Rick. Talk to me - tell me things."

"You don't need to be off-limits anymore," she adds, lifting a shoulder quickly as if it will distract from how deeply she feels about this subject.

Taking a deep breath, he leans over to drop the sheets on the floor near their bedroom door. It's not a perfect solution (and a little bit gross if he thinks too hard about it - he'll make sure to clean the hardwood, too), but he needs his hands free to reach for her and draw her into his chest.

Beckett sighs, relaxing into his embrace and slipping her arms around his waist. Her breath skims across his neck and he feels her sink deeper against him.

"I think… more than anything, I think it hurt my feelings," she admits into his skin. "Being left out like that."

His hands flex against her back, his eyes squeezing shut. "I'm sorry. That was… it was never… I'm sorry."

She nods after a moment, accepting his fumbled apology. "I know. And I know that was how you felt with the AG job and the interview."

Castle brushes his fingers through the ends of her hair, contemplating her words. They'd done the same thing to each other - unknowingly and unwittingly, but they had.

"Kate-"

Her lips brush his jaw, cutting off whatever it is he'd been about to say (though he's not entirely sure what it had been, beyond another apology, maybe even an assurance that he hadn't been trying to even the score or something like that).

"I know, Rick. I know it's not some kind of tit for tat. But…tell me now?" she asks, lifting a hand to cup the back of his neck. "While we make the bed?"

He nods, resting his cheek against her forehead. "Okay. But I warn you, it might give you more information about my mother's sex life than you ever want to know."

Kate laughs, giving his neck a squeeze. "I think I can handle it. I do sort of live with her now, you know."

Castle touches his lips to her hairline. "And you know what she's like."

"Oh hush, she's not that bad." Kate steps back, reaching for a bottle of disinfectant that he takes and sprays for her.

"Now. Imagine back then."

Kate hands him a rag to swipe over the mattress as well. There aren't any visible stains, thankfully, but he's not going to argue with her directions.

"I don't need to imagine," she says, rubbing a hand down his back. "Because you can tell me."

Her lips dust the back of his neck, the gesture soft and relaxing; it's not an interrogation, she just wants to know, wants to listen. So, he talks, telling her his mother's side of the story from when he was growing up, weaving it into the tale of the harrowing days when Alexis was missing and his father's daring rescue in Paris.

When that story concludes, all it takes is a soft look from her and a squeeze of her hand on his forearm for him to offer up everything else that's been on his mind since they caught their most recent case.

------------------------------------------------------------------------ Long time, no see! It's been a time recently, and putting words to paper has been difficult, but I was able to finish this yesterday so I figured I would offer it to the world today. Thanks for reading.

[sorinethemastermind]

The Final Rite

In which Soren grapples with his father's sacrifice.

 

Soren hadn’t told anyone where he was going. It had felt selfish, somehow. Or like something to be ashamed of. But now, standing outside the ruins of the castle. Of his home. He suddenly wished he had brought company.

 But who would have wanted to accompany him on this task, anyway?

 And was it really a task, when no one had asked it of him?

 He took a deep breath, feeling it catch in his throat, and not from the smoke this time. Somewhere in the rubble before him lay Vir- his father's body. Broken and charred, pierced through the heart just like when he'd-

 Soren stepped into the courtyard and began combing through the rubble. He was exhausted, and with each stone he turned over his arms shook. What were all those workouts for if he couldn't even lift a rock?

 But it wasn't just the physical strain, he knew. With every overturned stone there was a greater chance that he would actually find him. Crumpled beneath a piece of fallen masonry, charred beyond recognition. Or, possibly worse, protected from the fire and undeniably recognizable as the man who had raised him.

 Discarded him.

 Hurt him.

 Been proud of him.

 Died for him.

 Soren didn’t know how to reconcile all the men his father had been inside his head. Didn't know how the same man who had played with him as a child could have become the one who marched into Xadia with an army. Or how that man could possibly be the same one who had looked at him in the dungeon and said that he had already taken enough. That it was his turn to offer Soren his heart.

 He didn't want to reconcile it. He didn't want to think about it or feel any of this. It was easier to hate him than... than whatever this was. Not love, surely?

 He didn't deserve it. Not after everything he had done. And yet...

 The moon was high overhead when Soren finally reached the area under the tower where Viren had cast the spell. Some part of him had been avoiding it, knowing that it was most likely where he would be. But this was why he'd come here, wasn't it? Snuck away from the camp in the middle of the night. Stowed away like this wasn't the home he had almost died to protect. Had offered to die for, and been denied that right.

 Maybe he should be grateful, but he wasn't. Or he was, but that gratefulness hurt so much he wished he wasn't.

 Some of the rocks had already fallen away and it didn't take much to find the body, just where he'd imagined it would be. And... just how he'd imagined it would look.

 It had been all he'd been able to picture all day. Setting up the tents, gathering supplies, carrying wounded to the hospital. In the back of his mind, no matter what he'd been doing, there had been the image. The image of Vir- his father standing there on the balcony, facing the dragon. Of the fire filling the courtyard until he couldn't see anything more. Of his skin turning to charcoal and his veins glowing like magma under the surface.

 For just a moment there, standing before the dragon with his staff raised high above his head, Viren had looked like the man Soren once believed him to be. And while at first he had been horrified as the spell washed over him, brought back to another mountaintop from two years ago, the warmth seeming to radiate out from his chest had meant something else, too. It had meant that what his father had said in the dungeon was true. Something, Soren didn't know what, but something had changed.

 He hadn't been lying. He had been proud.

 And what had he done? He’d yelled at him, run away from his father then. And now? Soren pushed the last bits of rubble away and pulled his father's body from the wreckage of their home.

 Now he would bury him.

 The trek to the Valley of Graves was a long one, winding through the entirety of the city of Katolis. Fires still smoldered on some of the houses lining the road, flickering like candlelight. Soren made the solemn walk alone, cradling Viren's limp body in his arms. His father was light and frail, two words he never would have associated with the man in life.

 The first tinges of sunlight were visible as he finally reached the end of the road and walked between the cliffs and their statues of kings and queens, great and gone. But there was another, newer grave alongside them.

 Soren stopped and stared up at the great bones of the dragon. They had felled it after all. Not that it mattered. He didn't want to look at it.

 Turning his back to the great beast, he crossed to the other side of the valley and laid his father on a patch of empty soil. Some might call it sacrilege to bury Viren here, among the great warriors of the kingdom of Katolis. But Soren didn't know where else to go. He didn't want him to rot away, forgotten and reviled, in the woods. Or to remain trapped in the still smoldering ruins of their home.

 Even villains deserved peace. If that was what he was.

 Soren drew his blade and set to work. His sword didn't make a very good shovel, but he persevered, hacking away at dirt and stone until his arms shook from overexertion and his breath came in ragged pants. He stuck it into the ground and leaned against it, struggling for air.

 In through your nose, out through your mouth. In through your nose, out through your mouth.

 His father’s words echoed through his mind as he finally managed to fill his lungs with enough air to straighten up and look over what he’d done. The sun up. People would be noticing he was missing soon. But he had a job to do. He would not leave his father here, abandoned. Whether he deserved to rest alongside these heroes of the realm or not, he would.

 Soren raised the blade above his head and brought it down again.

 He was in the courtyard, hiding behind the great oak tree that had lived there for centuries. His father shielded his eyes from the sun. "Now where could my little golden boy have gone?"

 Dirt and rocks were chipped away. He raised it again.

He was sitting on the floor before the hearth, his mother's hand resting on his head and Claudia nestled on her lap as his father read to them.

 He brought the sword down. Steadily, the hole began to grow.

 He was lying in his bed, chest aching with every wheezing breath, his father's hand clasping his own. They were both exhausted from a long night, eyes drifting shut.

 He was in the courtyard with his first training sword, practicing his footwork, glancing up at the window in hopes of catching his father watching.

 It was his knighting ceremony, all the young guards standing proudly before the king as he welcomed them as protectors of the kingdom. Viren stood behind him, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as Soren's name was called out.

 He was standing in the dungeon, leaning on a crutch, cruel words still ringing in the cold, stone hall. Staring into the frenzied eyes of someone who was supposed to love him.

 He was standing in the dungeon, offering his father his heart one final time.

 Soren's sword struck hard stone and, with a reverberating clang, twisted in his hand. It flew aside, falling to the ground with a long crack running up it. He fell to his knees beside the hole and buried his face in his hands, shoulders shaking.

 "No. I- I've taken enough from you, son.”

 There hadn't been time to argue. Soren had tried, but in the end…

 "I'm so proud of you."

 He'd turned back, opened his mouth to say something, but no words had come. His father smiled at him. A sad smile, the knife clutched in one hand, staff in the other. 

 "You don't have to say anything. I just wanted you to know."

 "I love you." the words came now, kneeling over his father's grave. They came too fast, too much. Like they were being torn right from his chest. "I love you. I always did, I- I don't know why you did everything you did. I don’t understand. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I wish I could forgive you. I wish I didn't want to forgive you. I-"

 Soren forced in a shaky breath and rose to his feet, leaving his sword where it had fallen. Maybe, if all these versions of his father could be true at once, then he could hold love and hate in his heart at the same time, too.

 And that would have to be enough. 

 He lifted his father and carried him to the side of the grave, wrapping him in the tattered remains of one of Katolis's banners before lowering him inside. This was the same man who had played with him in the courtyard and read him to sleep at night when he was sick. But it was also the one who’d cast him aside, shouted that his life didn’t matter. 

 Soren leaned down and lifted the fabric up to cover his father's face. What were the words to the rite Opeli had used? He had heard her say them enough that day. Something about justice, he thought. 

 "May Lady Justice be merciful." he whispered, voice cracking. “May she feel both love and hatred, and make the right choice.”

It took him nearly as long to fill the hole as it had to dig it, and the sun was high in the sky by the time he had finished; legs weary and arms aching. Finally, he went to retrieve his sword. The crack ran from the tip to the pommel, jagged edges glistening in the midday light. Soren went to sheathe it, but hesitated.

Crossing back to his father's grave, he struck it into the ground that had broken it, letting it stand as a marker. And then he turned one final time, and without looking back, walked out of the valley.

[ozzo-the-wozzo]

I need to you guys to stay with me and imagine Adrien Agreste experimenting with what to wear after he quits modeling but being hopelessly lost on where to start so, after much consideration, he gets the brilliant idea to mimic his friends clothing aesthetics.

So naturally one week he’s wearing a backwards cap and baggy jeans in an attempt to mimic Nino who is ecstatic and another he’s wearing a lot of flannel which makes Alya roll her eyes and another him and Marinette are practically twins much to his delight until she gently tells him he only likes it because they are matching and he should probably keep looking until he finds something that is his own.

But instead he just keeps on mimicking classmate after classmate until he runs through them all and he starts talking to Kagami who’s figuring things out herself and doesn’t provide much to go off of and he settles on wearing suits until someone mistakes him for Felix.

So then he decides to move on from people and starts to look on Pinterest at Marinette’s suggestion and he copies the outfits down to a science but why does everything STILL feel not right? He decides it’s the website so he moves on and copies what he sees in magazines and in ads and it feels a little better but he also feels a little sick when he does it and why isn’t anything right and he’s twisting the ring on his finger so much it’s leaving a mark and hes pacing around the mansion and it has so many portraits and his dad is in all of them and why is he suddenly getting the feeling nothing he puts on will ever be right and why in the world does this stupid ring feel so heavy.

And so after a month of experimenting, he gets up in the morning one day and decides to try on the outfit he always used to wear and attempts to do his grown out hair the old way and looks in the mirror and stares at himself for a while. He slips on his sneakers and then the door rings and he heads downstairs to meet Marinette for school. As they’re walking he is still trying to decipher what he feels and he suddenly realizes that his dad would like this outfit a lot. He smiles to himself and tells Marinette and she smiles weakly and says she supposes he would and then avoids his eyes.

Adrien feels that familiar twist in his stomach that tells him something isn’t right, but when he tries to reflect on why that would be he’s only met with the same fuzzy memories of his father that he can’t quite sort out. He wonders if that’s where the unease comes from but then he shakes his head because those memories must be good because his father died a hero.

And so he wears the same outfit he always wore, ignoring the fact it feels a little too tight on him and that it makes his new ring feel heavier than ever.

[tornoleander]

I know it’s been said, but Jay’s ‘bullied for growing up in a Junkyard’ Vibes are off the charts.

Parents saying how he hates talking about being born in a junkyard.

insecurity had to of come from somewhere.

In Skybound, Nadakhan overhears Jay mentions this insecurity and uses it against him several times.

(very good villain writing I would praise if they didn’t make him the creepiest creep to ever ninjago.)

[backintimeforstuff]

thinking about how insane it would've been if Pendrell had still been alive during the Diana era 🙃 Scully would have seen Mulder and Diana holding hands and fled straight back to him and Mulder would have been jealous as hell but not as angry as Scully already was and it would probably all have culminated in one of the weirdest and most awkward double dates in Bureau history ??? the angst, the pining, the JEALOUSY ?? Delicious

[lonelychicago]

i have to admit... the coma buck theory is growing on me. so... here's a drabble of eddie shaving buck's scruff while he's in a coma. <3 season 6b speculation

"I'm glad you're okay." Eddie murmurs. He always talks to Buck, hoping the man hears him even if unconscious. Hoping Buck knows Eddie's always there, that he'll never lose hope.

Buck's been in a coma for almost two months now and— it's been hard. It's been really hard, if he's being honest. Life moves on, shifts are scheduled, events at Chris' school happen and Eddie— Eddie feels like a part of him is missing all the time. Like a limb was amputated and he doesn't know what to do without it.

He always turns around when someone says something funny, wanting to see Buck's reaction and then he remembers.

"Today was a quiet shift." He smiles as he traces his fingers through Buck's beard. He kinda likes the scruffy look but he knows the man hates it and always made it a point to be clean and shaven. So Eddie will do it for him until Buck wakes up. "I know I'm not supposed to say the q words but if you hate it so much maybe you should wake up and kick my ass, huh?"

Eddie stops for a second, waiting with bated breath for Buck to react, to open his eyes and look at Eddie with that frown between his eyes and his nose all scrunched up. Eddie waits for the "You just jinxed the team, man!" but it never comes.

"Yeah, okay." He breathes out and prepares the materials. At first the nurses were supposed to do this but they did a sloppy job and they were too fast, never treating Buck with the gentleness and the softness he deserves. So Eddie might have yelled at them a little but hey, he got the job done. Whatever.

"Chris has a girlfriend, did you know? it's pretty recent and don't worry, I don't think they even kissed yet." He chuckles as he spreads the shaving cream with soft touches. "I know you'd say he's too young for that." He whispers and looks down at Buck. "He's growing too fast and you're missing it, Buckley." Eddie says with a strained voice and then shakes his head.

No. He can't do this. Not right now.

"Anyway. What else? Oh! There was this funny call today at shift…" Eddie talks and talks as he moves methodically.

Eddie's fingers flit over Buck's skin quickly, the blade becoming a steady rhythm of contact as it glides over his neck and jaw carefully and softly. From time to time, his hands meet either side of Buck's face, turning him this way and that to allow Eddie to reach the area he needs. It's— intimate and domestic in a way that makes him ache.

He even lets his mind wander, imagines doing this with Buck awake and instead of the hospital, they're in Eddie's bathroom— but it would be their bathroom. And Buck would be sitting in the counter sink, with Eddie between his legs. He would smirk and follow Eddie with his gaze, blue eyes happy and shining with love and a tinge of mirth. It's a nice fantasy.

Maybe someday, Eddie thinks.

Finally, he grabs a small towel and cleans Buck's face. His touch is feather-light as he gently wipes away the remaining shaving cream from Buck's skin.

Because of him being so focused on Buck's features, he doesn't miss the way the man's eyelids flutter like he's trying to wake up.

"Buck?" Eddie whispers, quiet and scared and reluctantly hopeful. "Hey, Buck? Wake up. Please." Eddie begs, his voice breaking in the last words as he lets go of the stuff, letting it fall to the ground and reaches a hand to grab one of Buck's, his fingers squeezing it almost too hard. "C'mon. I know you can do it."

Eddie waits, waits and waits and he starts to think it was a figment of his imagination, that he's slowly losing his mind.

But then —

He feels a slight squeeze, barely there. He looks down and Buck's hand is holding his.

Buck's holding his hand.

When his gaze goes back up, he finds himself looking at tired, confused blues.

"Hey, Buck." Eddie chuckles wetly in disbelief and excitement, though his voice is quiet and gentle. His vision goes blurry with tears that he quickly blinks away, not wanting to miss a second of Buck's face.

"Eddie." Buck rasps out.

Finally. Eddie thinks. After so long, he can finally hear Buck's voice. And for the first time in what feels like forever, Eddie truly thinks everything will be okay.

[theminecraftbee]

hermit horror week day 6: season 6 or flesh

Cleo hums as she looks over her pirate crew. Her ship is coming more and more to life every day with the help of the new armor stand book. Bringing real pirates to life to live in her crew--it's been a dream so far. She has a real knack for it, to. Everyone keeps commenting on it.

It's funny, thinking she of all people would be good at bringing life to things. There's a joke about that, she's sure.

She flips through the book, tilts her head and frowns as the crew prepares her ship for the day. Hm, no. She needs to make some more edits, though, before she declares it done. Her crew is a little bit too all the same color, at the moment, and there aren't enough that are the right height, and...

She walks up to the nearest crew member. He looks up at her and waves methodically before going back to his programmed actions. She flips the pages in the book, finds the correct pages to nudge, and starts messing with his height to make the crew more varied.

There is a horrible snapping and popping sound as the crew member freezes in place, and his torso and limbs begin to stretch to match the new parameters. The skin twists around the bone. Bones break and regrow. She waits patiently for the changes to be done. Finally, the twisted cracking stops, and the crew member stands at his new height.

Cleo makes a face.

"Yeah, I'm not sure that's right either," she says, even as the crew member stands up to start going back to his tasks. He's sweating and shaking, which makes it a bit hard to judge, so she re-locks the armor stand in place, freezing him.

She thinks she got his limbs wrong the first time, actually; that's why the new height didn't work well. It'll be individual reposing, then.

She starts making adjustments in her book when she looks over her shoulder and sees her crew staring at her. She shudders. It's unnerving when that happens. It always makes her feel like--she brings life to her builds like this, but it's not like the things are alive.

But sometimes, when she's adjusting the scene...

"Well? You lot get back to work!" she says, and she goes back to adjusting the first crew member she has to make changes for. She'll start with the arms, since those are proportioned worst. She needs to make them a little shorter.

The terrible tearing and popping sounds continue as things break and relocate. Cleo sighs.

One day, maybe this will be less trial and error, and she'll have to hear less horrible bone breaking? Today, though, she'll be fine with it. She's a zombie, she's probably heard worse.

As she finishes setting the arm in place, there's a low, strange sound, like an aborted scream.

She's really got to ask the datapack author one day about that, she thinks, and she moves to the next arm.

[arcadianmoonshadowjedi]

What did I do to Deserve you?

Rayllum Season 6 spoilery fanfic

Finally finished & posting this fanfic! It’s a fluffy hurt/comfort missing scene fic set between Episodes 6-7 (you know what I mean 😏) I would not recommend reading this unless you’ve watched up to the beginning of Episode 7. If you’re all caught up, I hope you enjoy! 😁🙌🏽

Chapter Summary: Rayla and Callum have finally kissed again for the first time in two years and have reaffirmed their love for one another. But there is still something Rayla wanted to talk to Callum about, the one moment in her life she wished she could change.

A few minutes later, Callum still held Rayla in his arms kissing her. Rayla’s hands were now around the back of his head with her fingers interlaced through his hair. Callum finally pulled away and sighed happily as he took his breath. Their faces were still pretty close though.

“We’ve been at this for so long,” Callum giggled. “Shouldn’t we get some sleep tonight before we head over to the Moon Nexus?”

Rayla jokingly groaned but still answered him. “We haven’t had a moment like this in two years, shouldn’t we be making up for all that lost time?”

Callum chuckled as she reached for a few more pecks. He then turned and guided her towards his hammock. He hopped onto it and patted right next to him gesturing for Rayla to join him.

“We should get some rest,” He told her softly and smiled. Rayla finally joined him and leaned into his embrace. They could hear Stella and Sneezles squeaking cheerfully from the hammock above sending the two lovers into complete laughter.

Read More on AO3!

[dio-icarticaae]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Ethari/Runaan (The Dragon Prince), Ethari & Rayla & Runaan (The Dragon Prince), Ethari & Rayla (The Dragon Prince) Characters: Ethari (The Dragon Prince) Additional Tags: Book: Through the Moon (The Dragon Prince), Angst, Grief/Mourning, The Dragon Prince Season 6 Spoilers, Episode:s06e09 Stardust, Ethari Needs a Hug (The Dragon Prince), POV Ethari (The Dragon Prince), Silvergrove (The Dragon Prince), Angst with a Happy Ending, Tired Ethari (The Dragon Prince), Presumed Major Character Death, Moon Nexus (The Dragon Prince) Summary:

It's always been part of Ethari's routine, when Runaan is on missions, to check his flower in the moon pool each night. It's a reassurance that he's still alive and going to come back to Ethari. When Runaan falls on that fateful mission, at least he still has Rayla's flower floating on to assure him of her safety.

Or: Ethari checks in on his family in the only way he can.

[cookiedough77]

guys PLEASE keep posting miraculous stuff i need more content before i like die PLEAAASEEE

[goldenwing57]

Just a little something I've been working on. I was wondering how Aaravos would tell Leola about everything that's happened. How does one tell their child that they tore apart the world for them? I also wanted to show a bit of her interactions with some of the other characters.

[biblooky]

I am so behind on hermitcraft, especially with how many pov's I watch and I'm trying to catch up on it all and it is getting overwhelming but I want to be up to date again 😭😭