#next up is Sword in the stone and I have not seen that in YEARS so idk how good it will be
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cookie-waffle · 4 months ago
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I’m currently attempting to watch every animated Disney movie, as well as some of the classic live-action ones, in order (skipping Song of the South and the WW2 propaganda stuff ofc)
Some quick thoughts on the movies I’ve rewatched so far:
Sleeping Beauty- A classic that was a huge influence on the world of animation. We wouldn’t have a lot of the pop culture we have today if it weren’t for this movie. Not much else to say about it. I do wish that Snow White was not 14, because it makes the Dwarves creepy with that context. But, luckily, it never states that she’s 14 so you can just tell any kid you show the movie to that she’s a grown up.
- Pinocchio- Still very fun. Pinocchio himself is very cute and likable. My only real issue is Stromboli. I THINK he’s supposed to be Romani, and if he is then his portrayal is pretty racist. But I think it will fly over most kids heads. I know it did for me when I was a kid.
- Fantasia: Absolutely fantastic. The quality is so high that I actually didn’t know it was from the 40s till I re-watched it. I will say though, that the parts with the human composers on screen may bore some kids. Of course, the biggest issue is a pretty racist caricature of a black person in the centaur short, but that scene has actually been cut out for years. I’m not a super huge fan of animation studios censoring their racist histories, but the upside is that you can probably show this to your kids without much worry.
-Dumbo- “Baby mine” makes me cry harder as an adult than I did as a kid. It’s a very cute and simple movie, but of course it’s biggest downfall is the racist “black” crows. But at the very least, the stereotypes shown in the crows are so old that modern day kids wouldn’t be able to associate them with black people, so it’s probably still okay to show them the movie.
- Bambi: Still as good as I remember. Watching the little animal kids play around is genuinely adorable. Bambi’s mother dying is still sad. Idk what else I can say tbh. And there’s no racism or weird underage stuff, so it’s perfectly fine to show kids.
- Saludos Amigos- Although there were some outdated depictions of south American people that may be considered offensive, I was expecting much worse. It was still enjoyable and I’d say it’s still probably okay to show to kids. It also debuted José the parrot, who I’ve grown to like a lot.
- The three Caballeros: It was fun. Idk what else to say about it other than I’m glad José got a lot of screen time. And Donald Duck is always funny, so I did laugh. Ngl I kinda ship the caballeros as a polycule now lmao.
- Fun and Fancy free: Aside from The Three Caballeros, this is the only classic Disney movie I did not see as a child. It’s cute. I enjoyed it and liked how Jimmy Cricket was the host. The Bongo short was adorable and I really wish I saw it as a kid (I THINK I saw the Jack and the Beanstalk short as a kid, but maybe I’m just misremembering scenes from House of Mouse.) I found it really interesting to see something that was such a clear product of WW2z Walt Disney was not a perfect man by any means, but this movie shows that he truly wanted to make people happy during a dark time in history. It’s no Lion King, but it’s still an enjoyable movie. I just don’t recommend it if you have a phobia of puppets/marionettes because the second short shows them a lot.
- The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad: I absolutely loved this. I remembered some of the Ichabod story from childhood, but completely forgot the Mr. Toad part of the movie, so a lot of it was like watching a new movie. Ichabod was still as good as I remembered, but Mr. Toad was WAY funnier than I remembered. The man is a menace to society and I love him.
-Cinderella: I am shocked at how much I loved this as an adult. It’s probably the most well-aged of all the classic Disney Princess movies. It’s about an abuse survivor finally getting what she wants, and honestly? That simple concept is enough for me to love it. I also greatly appreciate how there’s no old racist stereotypes and that Cinderella herself is an actual adult and not 14-16.
- Alice in Wonderland: Absolutely nothing wrong with this one. It’s Alice in Wonderland, idk what else to say about it. The Mad Hatter is still my favorite character just like he was during my childhood. Only new thing I could say is that, as an adult, I finally realized just how fucked up the oyster story was lol. Overall, I think this is a harmless movie to show kids. It’s also fun to watch while high lol.
- Robin Hood: Ah yes, the movie that planted the furry seed in my head as a child. I think I actually enjoyed this more as an adult. King John is very entertaining. This is honestly one of those underrated Disney Gems. Only real criticism I have is the part when Robin and Little John disguise as stereotypical romani women, but I highly doubt most kids will actually understand what they’re referencing.
- Peter Pan: I’ll admit, I have a soft spot for Peter Pan. And watching the movie as an adult, Captain Hook made me laugh a lot at all his slapstick. I think he’s one of my favorite Disney Villains after rewatching it. But, I do have to address the pink elephant in the room: the racist portrayal of native Americans. Tiger Lilly is the only native character who isn’t designed with super racist overtones. As someone who has a lot of native blood, I have mixed feelings in this movie. I think it would still be okay to show kids this movie to kids if you explained to them that that part of the movie was inaccurate, or just fast forwarded through the racist scenes. It’s certainly NOT the most racist thing that Disney has ever animated, but I can understand why you wouldn’t wan’t to show this to your kids. Other than that, everything else is fantastic and really captures that “Disney magic”
- Lady and the Tramp: This movie is adorable and it WOULD be perfectly fine if it weren’t for the racist siamese cats. However, it’s a similar situation to Dumbo in that the stereotypes are so old that the vast majority of kids will not associate them with the race they’re making fun of (I know I didn’t as a kid)
-Sleeping Beauty: This film’s visuals are absolutely amazing. The animation is fantastic and the design of Maleficent is peak. And I like how Prince Phillip actually has some personality. However, the one GLARING issue with this movie is Araura’s age. Unlike in Sleeping Beauty, they verbally confirm several times that Aurora is 15-16 years old. Personally, I would not want my kids to think that it’s okay to get married at that age. However, when I was a kid, I did not pick up on her age at all. I had always assumed that Aurora was in her early to mid-20s because that’s how old she looks. So, I can’t really say if this is appropriate to show to kids or not. It’s really up to you.
- 101 Dalmations: Simple, but very cute, especially if you’re a dog person. Cruella Devils is a super entertaining villain, and it’s honestly a refreshing change that she isn’t an evil queen or witch, she’s just a massive bitch. I love that. Perfectly fine to show to kids.
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nightingale-prompts · 2 months ago
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The Nightingale Family-DC x DP prompt
(Shameless Addams family inspired prompt)
News travels fast in Gotham, especially in affluent circles. A new family has arrived in the city, old money at that. They had taken up residents in the old mansion overlooking the Historic Gotham Graveyard.
The Nightingales had a way of letting their presence be known. They were rarely seen in public. The eldest Jasmine Nightingale however had made waves working at the Gotham Asylum as a psychologist. She was often escorted by her younger brother Dan Nightingale. The public really started talking when Jazz was seen talking with Harley Quinn.
There were two children that lived in the Nightingale manor. They were elusive to say the least as the family didn't attend the parties of Gotham.
It wasn't until Damian Wayne got an invite from his classmate Danielle to visit their manor that someone saw the lives of Nightingales. This invite had been received after Damian carefully befriended the youngest Nightingale to investigate their connections.
That's how the Waynes ended up at a dinner party.
The manor was bleak to say the least and that's saying something in Gotham. The buildingbwas made from black stones and gargoyles perched on the roof. The garden was wilted and full of thrones that crept up the walls.
Bruce felt a sense of Deja vu as he approached the door and rang the bell. Tower bells rang out as the face of Jasmine Nightingale appeared. She was dressed in black dress pants and blazer. Her lips were painted to match. Her red hair had a striking white streak through it which had become a fashion trend since the family's arrival to girls wanting to seem mysterious.
"Good Evening. It is so nice to meet the infamous Waynes." She shook Bruce's hand. Behind her, the sounds of clanking metal was heard. "That is just my younger siblings playing. You don't you boys join while I talk to your father.
Despite only being a fresh-faced 20 year old Jazz carried herself like a confident adult. A certified genius in psychology who graduated early she also handled the inmates at the Asylum well enough that escapes are at an all time low.
"She's got it all" was what Harley said.
Bruce's admiration of the young lady was only matched by his suspicion. The house the Nightingales lived y had once belonged to the Al Ghouls. There was no telling yet if there was a connection.
He took a seat in the living room with Jazz tea already prepared. She poured two cups of black tea. Not black as in the type of tea but the color of the drink. Bruce cautiously sniffed the black liquid, it smelled earthy and acidic. Poison.
"Do you like it? I made it myself. I added the belladonna myself. It has a sweet taste so you don't need sugar. The kids have sweet tooths but we avoid added sugars. They love nightshade." She smiled drinking.
Bruce put the cup down. So they drink poison at a young age. They must be part of The League of Assassins. But why are they here?
"If you don't mind me asking. Why did you move to Gotham? Your parents-" Jazz put a hand up as she finished her cup.
"Mr. Wayne I'm sure you are no stranger to parents leaving before their time nor the concept that not all parents deserve children. Now I can't confirm or deny if that is the case for use but you can understand that it's a private matter." Jazz said sternly.
That wasn't an answer.
Upstairs Danny and Danielle played with Elle's new toys. Swords from Dan's trip to Portugal. He even sharpened them. They were currently tearing through the mansion.
Tim and Damian caught them while Danny had successfully pinned Elle to the ground.
"Dami! Help!" Elle yelled catching Danny off guard as Damian tackled Danny to the ground.
"Alright, alright. You can go next." Danny rolling Damian off him and passing him the sword. "Im taking a break."
Danny loved playing with his little sister but baby games are tiring.
"They let you play with swords," Tim exclaimed. This wasn't something he expected, sure it was normal for Damian but Damian is weird and was raised by assassins. Damian didn't do it for fun, it was training.
Damian and Danielle ran off while fencing.
"You must be one of the Waynes. Elle has been excited to have your brother over." Danny said politely if not a bit dismissive.
"Eh, yeah. Your sister said we should join you." Tim said a bit awkward. " You have another brother right?"
"Oh, yeah. He travels alot but he's relaxing right now. He's probably swimming." Danny shrugged.
Tim had heard of Danny. They went to the same school but Danny was part of a program that allowed him to come to school when he felt like it. The program is for young engineers who want to work for Wayne Industries. He mostly worked on small experimental projects. So far Danny's superconductor tech was revolutionary but impossible to replicate. Danny somehow managed to make a more effective coolant than anything they had created in the lab.
"You have a pool?" Tim knew that the mansion didn't have a pool.
"Of water? No." Danny shrugged but gave no further answer.
"I see, so what do you do?" Tim tried to sound normal like he was talking to his friends and not someone he was trying to probe.
"Anything, everything. I was going to recalibrate my telescope but I have a laser to test." Danny walked off expecting Tim to follow.
Testing was just cut a bunch of things in half. Tim got some great info on making an explosive ice canister and foam bombs. Tim made sure to get his number to hire him to make some gear for him.
The Nightingale kids were absolutely lawless. They destroyed everything in their path.
Elle had dragged Damian to her room to show off her toys. She used to travel with Dan until she started school. She picked up a bunch of items. Cult artifacts, shrunken heads, voodoo dolls, cursed puppets, knives, swords, and the homemade taxidermy Elle made from roadkill. She also had a pet dodo bird named Ernesto who had a bed next to her bed. Ernesto took a liking to Damian and sat on his head. The way he shows his affection
Soon enough Dan came upstairs to check on Elle and Danny.
"You kids, need to get ready for dinner. Sharpen your nails and teeth." He said before going back to the kitchen.
"What does that mean?" Damian asked.
"You don't sharpen your nails. Well good luck at dinner." Elle said bemused.
Dinner was...horrifying. Watching the family chat happily as they ripped apart the moving food as it came to life. Damian was actually excited as he skewered the cheese and broccoli casserole that screamed at him.
"Father, why can't we do this at our home?" He asked.
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glassrowboat · 7 months ago
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I Grew Up. Jing Yuan.
Summary: Before Jing Yuan was the general of the Luofu, he was just another kid who would play with wooden swords and bugs; a menace who was always ready to prove himself as a Cloud Knight. And besides him? An apprentice from the Alchemy Commission who was always ready to annoy him in his endeavors.
Warnings: Mentions of war, gore, death, there is an NSFW part (when both characters are adults), so fingering, smut, oral
Word count: 11,300+
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A loud, cheery voice called out “one, seventeen, five hundred and seventy two,” as a blade swung in the air. The rustle of clothes coming with each move, every practiced hit to a non-existent enemy having a random number sang out into the air to match it. No chirping bird nestled in the trees to be had as the source of the voice had long since scared them all away. “Nine hundred and ninety nine, fifty six!”
And with each shout Jing Yuan was repeating the number he was actually on in his head, trying not to let a certain annoyance distract him as she has done so many times before. (Y/n)’s antics just as familiar as the spot he found himself training in. Cracked stones with bits of moss growing between the once upon a time smooth concrete, a red tree providing shade from the blaring sun, and a bench only five feet away currently supporting a girl with her hands to her mouth, trying to echo out each word.
“Sixty nine! Two thousand one hundred and five!”
Her green dress was tell enough that this girl was from the alchemy commission, but they both already knew that, the details of swirling clouds so unlike the ones above the two providing shade. A shadow cast out over the courtyard helping keep the air just cool enough that a light breeze would have anyone considering fetching a sweater. Well, anyone not in the middle of a training session.
“You are being a nuisance.”
Per usual.
Bringing his sword back up to practice another swing Jing Yuan tried his best to ignore the taunting words just begging him to chase her around the small space, again. “Oh, big word for a little guy. Jingliu teach you that one recently?”
“What if she did? Master is-”
“Three hundred eighty six.”
“Master is-”
“Seventy nine.”
With a clamor Jing Yuan drops his sword in a way one could compare it to a knight getting his weapon knocked out of his hand in the heat of battle. A daunting enemy above him threatening to end his life with their own blade as he scurried to fetch it back in time before that looming presence, a terrifying face about to become the last thing his ten year old self sees. So like a prince charming in a fairy tale, his fingers would grasp the worn down hilt from the shape of his hand just in the knick of time, blocking the enemy’s strike. A triumphant hero. Except it was the complete opposite. The sword just fell to the ground from a slip of Jing Yuan’s fingers.
“Smooth moves, Yuan.”
“If you hadn't distracted me.”
“And what Cloud Knight is supposed to lose his weapon because a chicka said a few words?”
Jing Yuan had to stop himself from biting on the inside of his cheek or maybe even a scoff just so he could get out: “any knight should know that sometimes you will lose your weapon in combat and what really matters is what I do next.”
Like he could grab a hidden dagger! Or….”I could just take the blade of a defeated foe.”
“Like what? Those giant ones the mara use?” (Y/n) held a hand up above her head, waving it in the air to call extra attention to it, a habit from waiting to be called on in class after listening to someone drone on for hours at a time about the medicinal properties of lily of the valley or something of the like. “I've seen those before, and they're taller than both you and I, so good luck! You'd have to spin around in circles just to give the blade any force behind it.”
A small giggle fell from her lips as she pretended to swing a giant blade, mocking the same way she would see Jing Yuan use his own.
‘Just what in the world is she imagining?’
“Just admit it, evolution didn't choose you, short stuff. So you'll just be a knight in training even when you're five hundred years old.”
‘As if!’
Picking his blade back up Jing Yuan slid it away in its designated sheathe with a satisfying click, the glare from the metal no longer reflecting on the ground beneath him as the sun peaked out from behind the clouds. “I told you that I'm going to be taller than you one day. Besides, you're only four inches taller than me, that isn't a lot.”
“I feel like I can make a joke here but it might go over your head.”
“Nope! Nope!” Not wanting to hear it, Jing Yuan smacked his hands to his ears. Maybe it would be enough to block out her shrill voice even as (Y/n) got closer to try and pull them off and out of place. “Just because you had to earn about that stuff for your studies doesn't mean I want to hear it. Not again. Mom already gave me the talk and it was awful!”
“You're such a kid.”
“She was talking about things with things and wouldn't let me leave until I repeated it back to her.” Right after he had run to go try and wash his ears out by dunking his head in the water can outside his home in hopes of the water knocking the words loose.
“You're not helping your case here.”
“It doesn't matter! That stuff like kissing other people the way mom and dad do is so not on my agenda. That can be saved for your princess stories and other girly stuff.”
“Oh yeah?” A little grin curled at the corners of her lips, most likely due to having another retort right on the tip of her tongue. (Y/n) even got out the words “then why are you so huffy over this stuff” before being cut off with little to no mercy by a loud call of her name. A man’s voice shouting for the girl again and again, only drawing nearer with each passing second. “Shit! I-I mean shoot. Shoot.”
Dropping his hands he stood there watching the panic come to her face. Only slightly smug. “Sure you did.”
“You're not helping!”
Quickly her form ran over to the courtyard's many walls, green dress fluttering behind as those little legs scurried around in a panic. Her voice only picked up in speed as (Y/n) tried to get the situation out, and understood, as fast as possible. “Yuan, I have to go right now. I left without permission again.”
‘Of course she did. Probably to get out of those talks about being switched out to advanced classes.’
“Hoist me up!”
“And why should I? You've been doing nothing but trying to get under my skin this entire time.”
Again, another call of her name sounded. Haize’s voice becoming clearer and clearer. A man Jing Yuan had only come across in passing when trying to drag a certain nuisance into playing with him. Or, a better way to put it, (Y/n)’s master.
“You motherf- I'll owe you!” Her hands were scrambling at the bricks on the wall, trying to find just the right ones to use for purchase. As if that's how scaling a flat wall would work, like rock climbing. Sure. “Just help me up or for the Reignbow Arbiter sake!”
He couldn't help the chuckle he was trying, and failing, to fight back from escaping, not with how quickly she did a 180. From teasing the life out of him (per usual) to now looking like she would plead like her life is on the line. Though with master Haize it was hard to tell, he could very well deal out writing the same sentence a thousand times over worse. At least that's one of the lighter one's Jing Yuan has heard about.
‘One shall not leave the alchemy commission without permission’ with each ‘I’ dotted with one of her hastily drawn hearts.
“Why should I? I think this is simply karma.” Despite his words Jing Yuan was already coming over to help, eyes going up and down the wall to figure out the best way to go about it.
“You little- I'll owe you, okay?”
“I know you will.”
And just like those five years ago, when they were both kids running amok trying to help one of them escape from an unjust punishment, (Y/n)’s shoe fell between his interlocked hands to his shoulder as she managed to swing a leg over gray tiles of the walls roofing. Admittedly it was a bit of a blessing that at least this time she didn't have to step on his head to get that proper step up. Last time that left a good mark of dirt in what was otherwise Jing Yuan's pure white hair as she scrambled away with a wide eyes scanning over the courtyard like she was expecting her master to pop out of thin air and a quick “see ya!”
Now though? (Y/n) was looking down at him from up high, her hand held out to help him up to follow her.
“And why are we sneaking into one of the alchemy commissions gardens when you have full access to go here?” This entire thing didn't really make sense to him, but here he was playing along even as the scent of flowers hit Jing Yuan in a way that was comparable to a woman accidently spraying her perfume in your face.
“Because, esteemed Jing Yuan, you're not allowed back here. And we have to do something to celebrate you officially becoming a cloud knight.”
Grabbing her hand the very same ‘esteemed knight’ pulled himself up and along beside her with very little help besides a tug or two to his blue sleeves. The uniform he now gets the privilege to wear with a red ribbon Jing Yuan ties around his waist every morning with pride after years of work and swinging that same blade over and over again. He swears that if he took a moment to just sit there and close his eyes while this menace of a woman jumps down into the garden below that he could feel the grip in his palm.
That is until his eyes shoot open as he hears a grunt and sees her figure kneeling on the ground, one of her hands brushing dirt off her face. Failing at that too, but for now she doesn't need to know that.
“Smooth moves.”
“Shut it.”
Jumping down after her, in a proper landing, Jing Yuan helps her up as (Y/n) huffs.
“But my point still stands, cloud knight.” Knocking a hand against his chest she turned back to the garden before them. An array of colors. Each petal is like a brush stroke on a canvas. “You got to your big goal, so we should celebrate.”
“Many of the other trainees after getting accepted were shooting the breeze with shaoxing glasses in their hands, and you choose a flower field you know like the back of your hand to take me to?”
“Fine, don't appreciate it. But I at least thought it would be nice. It's been a while since you've been allowed back here after you ruined a flower bed.”
“And last I recall you're the one that pushed me into said flower bed.”
“Anyway-” trying and failing to hide her laughter at what was most likely the memory of tripping Jing Yuan straight into a pile of dirt and seeds before her fellow classmates (Y/n) bent down so she could properly look at the blossoms before her. She probably knew every little detail about that flower, but Jing Yuan couldn't place it as anything more than just another pink one.
‘Anyway, she says.’
“Since when did it hurt to stop and smell the roses? Besides, if anyone catches us I'm just here….getting a few herbs I need to dry out for a project I have planned out. The number in my dorm has been dwindling.”
Moving besides her he sat down on the wooden walk set up to make sure no one would repeat his mistake so many years ago of mistaking where the path ended and patch started. At least that's the lie this one who thinks proper decor is bottles full of potions ultimately decided on before their scolding began. Jing Yaun’s boots making a hefty clunk as he settled down.
“And not even a drink to be had?”
“Yuan, wait until you're older. I shouldn't have to go over the repercussions of drinking before your prefrontal lobe has fully matured with you. I'll do it too.” Another huff. “It's very important for you not to touch a drop before your behavioral patterns-”
“Is this you talking or the lessons you've learned, prodigy?”
“Ha. Ha. Ha.”
Plucking one of the flower's petals off she held the fragile thing up, studying the veins as she held it up to the full moon. The only source of proper lighting to be had when neither of you could afford to turn on the ones for the garden without being caught. Who knows what trouble could be had for you two from this even with her supposed foolproof excuse for being here.
“Carnations. You've probably seen a few as decorations at those fancy tea houses, the ones we've seen those Foxian ladies favoring so much. These can be used for their anti-inflammatory properties if you're in short supply of the normal pain meds the commission makes. A poor substitution in my book, but it's best to always have something extra on hand just in case.”
Raising his hands up Jing Yuan brings them together a few times in a short round of applause. She always did look so intense when bent over work tables with mixtures of all sorts at her fingertips, eyebrows knit together just as they are now. “You really do sound like a proper healer when you go off about this. Shame I know you for mainly cussing when you stub your toe.”
“A lady is allowed to express herself!”
“‘Lady.’”
“‘Cloud knight.’”
“You can't use that on me anymore now that it's true.”
It takes a moment, her eyes on him in silence before finally relenting and muttering a short “touche” he almost missed.
Taking the petal from those hands lacking the calloused his have Jing Yuan pinched it softly, trying to view the one little piece of life the same way she seemed to. A well of endless possibilities that could be made into something more than just a woman's perfume. “Say, I think it's time I cash in one of the many favors you owe me.”
“And what favor do I owe you, big guy?”
“Ah, someone's still petty I grew taller than them.” Chuckling Jing Yuan looked up from the petal to a face that still had the slightest smear of dirt on its cheek, barely seen in this lowlight. “What happened to those precious three inches you had on me?”
“It was four.”
“Three inches.”
“Well, it's perfectly normal for a young man to be tall. If anything it's just a sign you were able to grow up strong and healthy despite all the times you slid your fried cabbage on my plate.”
Something she had let him do on multiple occasions as they shared a table at either the alchemy commission when everything was stuffed full of nutrients and seemingly without a sprinkle of sugar or at his family home as Jing Yuan’s mom always slipped them an extra dessert whenever (Y/n) was over.
“Well, uh…”
‘Okay, it seems we're getting off track here.’
“You owe me for helping you escape Haize when you were thirteen.”
“No, I gave you my desserts for a week in recompense. It's been paid off already, Yuan. Try again.”
Huh. Tilting his head at that his eyes rolled up to the star covered sky. The Luofu was on its night cycle meaning they could properly see the galaxy beyond the blue hue and clouds that would be overcast during the day time.
“It's pretty, isn't it?” A hand pushed his shoulder, not nearly enough to knock Jing Yuan down to the wooden path but it had him rocking in place for a moment. Tall but lanky as a certain healer had described him, right after saying he needs to eat more, then he'd properly fill out once he ages up and grows out of the awkward teenage phase. “Just say what you want. I'm fine with you owing me for once.”
“Of course you are.”
And of course he shoved her shoulder right back.
“Can you tell me what it's like to see a mara-struck up close? If I'm to meet one in combat I should know what I'm going into, and master Jingliu can only help so much.”
‘Master has only one perspective.’
“Good to know you're not so over confident that you're rushing into battle with your sword raised for a charge. I didn't know you had a brain in there.”
“Seriously? You- Just back to my question.” Jing Yuan snapped.
“Okay. Fine. Impatient much. The thing is with your question…It's simply not a fair comparison.” She took a moment, eyes going from between him to the flowers that surrounded them. Lavender, marigolds, chrysanthemums, and so so many more. A field. And if he asked Jing Yuan was sure (Y/n) could tell him the scientific names of each one without issue. “The one's I deal with are primed for dissection, not for a fight.”
A sigh.
“But, it's not pleasant. Master had me- let me try again. You know those gingko leaves that tree in the courtyard you used to always train in? How would they slowly turn from green to yellow only to fall off soon after?”
“I would always be tasked with cleaning them up. Part of my ‘due diligence’ and training in patience. I'm pretty sure though it was just master Jingliu not wanting to clean it up herself.”
“Well,” a small giggle came from her at that, “someone needed to do it. And if I caught you sweeping I'd always fetch a broom and spend the afternoon helping you catch up on chores.”
‘And she would always hold it over my head after.’
“I loved gingko leaves when we were younger, because they made me think of you and those moments where we were threatening to hit each other over the head with those old brooms that probably couldn't even handle a single strike. I would pick one out from the dustpan and keep it stored away in one of the many pots in my room. Like they were precious.”
“Is rambling included at this time to stop and smell the roses?” He couldn't help the little grin that came to him, lips quirked up at the edges with absolutely no effort to stop it.
“Don't interrupt me if you're the one who wants an answer. No lecturer wants a student that can't shut their fucking trap.”
“Okay, okay.” Raising his hands in surrender was automatic at this point after hearing just that pissed off voice alone. “Go on, teacher.”
“Thank you. For the Reignbow Arbiter’s sake. So,” (Y/n) clapped her hands together, calling attention to herself despite the fact Jing Yuan was already paying more than enough to her, “back to my point.”
“The thing is…After my first dissection, even with master Haize watching over the entire procedure, I couldn't look at the mara-struck all at once. I was supposed to dissect it like a frog, something I've done dozens of times before, but I couldn't even just take a step back to look at the thing properly. It was a task to be objective.”
‘Couldn't look at them? Was it someone she once knew?’
“When I finally did it was at the end of the process when the master said I could wash off, and there I stood by the sink with those stupid blue rubber gloves covered in the coagulated blood of a dead body and gingko leaves.”
“I couldn't think about them the same way anymore.” Her head dropped. Eyes downcast on the very hands that had cut and opened up what was essentially, or at least should be, a corpse. “The abominations are so different from us, Yuan.”
“I know.”
Even the thought of those creatures could ruin a night like this it seems, one full of their usual antics and trouble seeking habits. The mara-struck, an inevitable fate for all Xianzhou natives if death doesn't take them first.
“Maybe you were right, maybe a drink to go with this night of celebration would have been better. Then we could be cheering about something stupid and-”
His hand was raised, reaching out to her, only stopping midway when (Y/n) glanced up at him with a disapproving stare; most likely for interrupting her or getting caught off track despite all the times she's done so to him. “And you were just getting on my case about it earlier too. Frontal lobe..something or another.” And he wiped the dirt he had been letting stick to her without a word off. The grainy texture is a sharp contrast to her own smooth skin.
“You- how long has that been there without you telling me?”
“Since you fell off the wall.”
“I didn't fall, I jumped.”
“Are you sure about that, prodigy?”
She swatted his hand away, much like she was dealing with a pesky bug flying around near her ear.
“I hope you know that when you get hurt on the field, and you inevitably will because all you knights do at one point, they will bring you back to me. When that happens, I will make sure that whatever injury you acquired will somehow end in my fellow healers being convinced they need to chop one of your limbs off due to risk of infection. You will be at my mercy, Jing Yuan.”
‘Great, another threat.’
She's made hundreds of threats since the moment they met varying from some that had Jing Yuan stumbling over himself in shock to wondering if the best she could do was smack him over the head. Especially when he's still getting taller. Who knows, maybe one of those days she'll have to ask him to lean down for her just to be met with a solid hit to the head. The thought alone had him laughing.
“Yeah, I know.”
“Hey! What's so funny you two bit bitch?”
“You don't need to worry about it.”
Taking one of those pink carnations Jing Yuan plucked the stem from the ground, not bothering to mind the dirt when his fingers were already dusted with it. Fragile petals and a soft hue. It truly was just a flower in his eyes, but somehow it looked like more than that as he tucked it behind (Y/n)’s ear as she scolded him for picking something without permission.
It was two years later Jing Yuan found himself holding a bouquet of the very same flowers after toiling over the best way to do this for hours, but they seemed only fitting. The shop owner he bought them from was nice enough to wrap them in those sheets of paper used for…well, decoration? And a red ribbon much like the very one in his hair.
The only difference being from when he bought them ten minutes ago to now is how the long stems had been wrangled as he clutched them tight in his sweating hand.
And her, staring up at them.
“Happy Luofu alliance day to you too.”
“You're all the way out here instead of joining in on the festivities?”
Papers were scattered all around her like a blanket on the grass, some clearly torn out from their notebooks as pages were frayed at the ends and others were slightly yellowed from years of use and spills of what is most likely more than just coffee stains. Scribbled notes that had Jing Yuan careful not to step on one and leave a footprint behind (for fear of being scolded, again) as he caught glimpses of diagrams, highlighted margins, and sketches of organs as he walked closer to her.
“There will be countless more years to spend in the Dragonvista Rain Hall. For now, I want to spend my one free day organizing my notes.” As she spoke (Y/n) lifted up the notebook that had been on her lap in the air.
“Your ‘one free day’ being a holiday you're required to take off.”
‘Yet here she is working.’
Glancing up Jing Yuan’s eyes fell on the tree she was sitting under. Foliage far from dense enough to keep the occasional sun beam peaking through the leaves as they cast golden rays on her green dress; still wearing her alchemy commission uniform, even now.
“Did you not have to be dragged to classes once kicking and screaming?”
She would even cling onto his arm, shouting for the future cloud knight to protect the poor damsel in distress from the fearsome bad guy. That being Haize as he plucked her up from the ground and carried her out of the courtyard like a disgruntled cat. Jing Yuan’s ear would be ringing for the rest of the day, but it was always worth it seeing her so pissed off after purposefully being a frustrating little brat. Teasing him like no tomorrow.
“Times change, Yuan.” She said, her words full of laughter. “Though, I did see this poster earlier about some foxian theater troupe putting on a performance. Epic of the Old Verdant House, if I remember it right.”
“That explains why we can hear drum chanting all the way out here.”
A melodic beat full of energy that matched the chatter of the crowds down below. From here he could see the lanterns hanging off of every pillar they could and tops of tents full of wares with people being waved in to 'come and see what we're selling, benefactors.’
“Sure does….say, I'm surprised you have the day off. Shouldn't an esteemed cloud knight be going around patrolling the streets to help keep the peace? I thought you'd jump at the chance to try and show your dedication, yet here you are not even in uniform.”
Standing there in everyday wear without a single piece of armor Jing Yuan shifted his hanfu sleeve, the fabric stretching only to fall back as he let go. It wouldn't hinder him, but it certainly wasn't his usual garb.
“I switched out my shift with that kid you helped last week.” Though she had many patients. It wouldn't surprise him if (Y/n) had forgotten about the event entirely. Things do tend to start blurring together when it's the same day after day, or at least that's what she says. “The one who got all bruised up in training, Aiguo?”
She hummed at that, seemingly to take a moment to recall. “The blond? For a cloud knight he sure does bruise easily.”
“He does…” The flowers in his hand were only wrangled up further as this conversation continued. This was besides the point. “So, rewriting your old notes then instead of going to that performance? I might have to grab a rose so you're forced to stop and smell them.”
Her eyes flicked up to him and he had to grip onto those already wrangled stems even harder to keep himself from simply choking the words out in his haste. A few white knuckles were easy enough to stand in favor of making this right.
“It's a better use of my time then watching you try and catch a goldfish at one of those scooping games again. I'm pretty sure by the time you were out of credits to waste away the vendor and I had become dear friends.”
He couldn't help but raise a brow at that. The only reason he was trying so hard in the first place was because only a week before she was forced to get rid of her pet scorpion. Ingredients had been found in her dorm by a supervisor, and after an apparently long meeting, it was determined the thing had to go despite her begging to just let him stay in the alchemy commission.
“It was rigged.” He said, slightly shrugging as he did so.
“All carnival games are rigged. That's the point.”
‘True, but at least it got her laughing. Even if it was at my expense.’
“Or, and hear me out on this, Yuan. It could also be that you just suck.”
“Thank you, so much.”
“Oh you're so very welcome.” Picking some of the sheets of paper up she tucked them between the pages of her notebook. Brand new but it was already covered in dirty fingerprints. No doubt from her collecting samples to tie into the pages as he could already see some of her old notes with a dried out jimson weed (if he recalled the name correctly) pinned down with thin metal wire keeping it in place. “I just don't have the time to do this any other day.”
“So.” stepping in closer to her spot under the tree Jing Yuan kneeled before her, making sure they were eye to eye even if she wasn't paying him the same amount of attention he was her. “If I asked you to come down and watch me struggle to catch you another fish?”
“And do you have the credits to spend on something so lavish?”
“I can spare a few.”
“I…I'm busy. I want to get this done.”
“And I can get you some osmanthus jelly.” Lifting the bouquet up, Jing Yuan held it up to her, the end of the red ribbon softly swaying from the movement. “You preach to me the importance of taking a break but you can't take one yourself?”
“You know I hate when you use my words against-”
And her words were drowned out by the loud sound of an engine, of a starskiff racing on by as fast as it could go. A familiar sound that would normally have Jing Yuan nodding to himself at the sight, taking in the beauty of such skilled piloting, but right now it only had him spitting out hair from his mouth as it whipped right into his face. White filled his vision as papers flew before his very eyes. A specimen of belladonna seen for only a moment before it trailed off, caught in the strong breeze the ship kicked up.
“No! No, no, no!”
Like confetti the notes she had spent years on flew away. Not even her hands snatching to grab anything proved fruitful as she scrambled up to pluck anything from the blue sky. Her fingertips barely grazed a sheet completely covered in yellow marker over the written margins before it fell to the crowd below.
Multiple people down below dressed in their finest attire, the festival masks, and waving their fans to keep cool in the generated heat of the Luofu's system were caught looking up and around them as the notes fell all around them. Ranging from the rooftops to the streets as those years she spent were tread over with little to no care, like they were nothing more than posters advertising something or another, as (Y/n) whined at the sight.
“Fuck!”
As Jing Yuan pulled the last bits of hair from his mouth he could see her flipping off the direction the pilot flew off in, even as it was long gone.
“Fuck you you punk ass bitch! Come back here before I shove a catheter up your dick!”
“Interesting insult.”
Grabbing a sheet of parchment from the branches of the tree, only a few of them stuck in there, Jing Yuan held it out to her.
“I hate this fucking household.”
Sighing Jing Yuan looked back at the paper in his hand as she just pouted at the sight of it. There goes his chance to confess it seems. Another day then.
“Come on prodigy, I'll help you find everything we can. It doesn't matter if it means spending the entire Alliance day peaking into alleyways or climbing over crates.”
“Just another favor I'll owe you.” She grabbed the paper from him as she spoke, fingers going over that messy handwriting that was no doubt scrawled down in a rush to get everything in her mind to a proper record. “Years of work.”
“No, there's no….”
‘No need for a favor.’
“Actually.” The flowers were over by the tree now, forgotten in the midst of what just happened, but did he really need them right now? Sure, this wasn't how Jing Yuan had been wanting this to go down, but what did those hours before the mirror practicing what to say as his friend, a fellow Cloud Knight, mean in retrospect when she was pouting like this? “I'd like to cash in that favor now. I’m going to ask you something and I don't want you to immediately say no. Take your time to think about it.”
“Now that's a big ask.” She said, grip tightening a little bit more to the point the paper started to crinkle under her touch. Maybe she was worried it would grow wings and fly away on her too.
“I know.”
Grabbing her hand, careful to make sure his actions did not tear anything, Jing Yuan squeezed it softly. She had no calluses made from the efforts of swinging a blade, of wielding a weapon. No, they were soft from the amount of lotion she used from always applying some after washing her hands again and again once she was done making some new medication or concoction or another thing of the like. Somehow that made it all the easier to hold her just like this.
“The next Alliance festival, I want to go together not as friends, or two people trying to find your notes, but as eachothers date.”
“No.”
“Now that's not taking your time-”
“Ask me again later, when I'm in a better mood; and pick an event that will happen sooner than a once a year festival.”
‘Oh…. Oh!’
Squeezing her hand a bit tighter Jing Yuan asked: “will you go on a date with me sometime this month? We will have to figure something out between your busy schedule, prodigy.”
“I said, ask me later.”
“Technically it was ‘later,’ just by a few seconds.”
“This is the worst confession I have ever heard and I've seen people proposing on the medical beds when one of them is so drugged they can't even understand what is being said to them.”
After a moment she added in, “you still have to help me find my notes though, then I'll say yes. And I want a better confession too, like in those romance books. Give me a whole speech.”
“Are you seriously asking me to study those girly novels of yours?”
“Yes. Or no dice.”
“I- fine.”
‘To believe that years ago I'd cringe at the thought, but here I am agreeing to it just to satisfy this bossy woman.’
“You're always a headache.”
Later that day, after spending hours combing the city to find every last sheet they could manage, Jing Yuan tied the red ribbon around her pinky, admiring how it showed she was his as (Y/n) told him she'd find the time in her busy schedule to squeeze in one little outing.
And it was that very same hand he tied a ribbon to, that he grasped that day, the very same day he played in his head again and again with a smile that could never leave him at the memory, that is now threaded through Jing Yuan’s hair.
Tugging. Pulling. Unapologetically leaving knots he'd have to comb out later.
“Patience.”
“You've been saying that for the past ten minutes, Yuan.”
The way her voice came out slightly strained had his lips tugging up. Soft little pants he was drawing out of her from those pretty lips he yearned to kiss right now even as his own were sliding along her naked thigh. Tongue just barely lolling out to leave a small lick before retreating once again.
She'd call him a tease. Has been, actually. But Jing Yuan couldn't barely help himself when seeing her like this.
Blankets pushed off to the side and barely hanging off the edge of the bed that was cast in only the low glow of a lamp on a desk nearby. One covered in glass bottles full of things he's been warned not to touch, and he knew well enough to listen. It was enough to have his fingers gleaming as he pulled them away again.
Much to someone's dismay.
“Stop being mean to me. Please.”
Jing Yuan only hummed in response, not minding her begging much as his teeth just barely dug into her skin; the idea of leaving a mark was so, very, tempting. To know that under her skirts in the days to come would be proof of this moment in the dark.
Her thigh tensed in response, muscles flexing before falling back to a relaxed state as his lips ran over the imprints of her underwear he had been pulling and tugging at earlier left. A garment discarded as soon as his head dipped between her thighs, yet here she was urging him to give her more.
‘How greedy.’
But he is too as Jing Yuan’s cock strains against its confines. Fabric he'd usually consider loose, breathable, and easy to move in suddenly betraying him with every shift of his hips against this old mattress. Barely providing anything friction as he breathes in the scent of sex. Of slick. Of her need for him.
Just that alone had his hips bucking forward.
His gaze moved from the way she sucked his fingers in as they slid back inside her with a wet squelch up to those half lidded eyes that flicked between him and the ceiling.
“Yua-”
A chuckle fell from him as she chased after him, her breath hitching and eyes falling closed as his tongue slid between those lips he's never had a proper chance to taste before, and oh what he would do to let those legs wrap around his fluffy white head and eat a meal he's never had before for hours just to find what would make her unravel beneath him.
Would she call his name in those final moments with her toes curled the way they are now? Would she be clinging onto the sheets with a knuckle white grip? Would her chest heave as he watches those breasts still red from being tugged and teased at fall with every breath?
Yes, they were both greedy.
“I know you're doing that on purpose.” She finally managed to say between her whines and attempt to stifle them away under her free hand.
“Am I now?”
That accusatory glance had Jing Yuan curling his fingers over a soft spot that felt different from the rest, spongy even, as he tried his best to act innocent. Not very convincing when his words are muffled by her pussy, but it was a try nonetheless.
“F-fuck…”
“I can't help but think you liked that.”
It was a wonder she wasn't trying to kick him in some way, but maybe that's just because with every movement of his fingers her head was being thrown back into the white covers.
“Where do you…how do you even know where that is?”
“This?” Jing Yuan asked, fingers crooking even more by just the slightest amount to brush over that spot inside of her again.
(Y/n) didn't need to know the real answer to that, not when she wouldn't let him live it down if she ever found out. She'd get on him until his ears turned pink and she'd only make it worse by pinching them and saying something like “oh sweetie, you're looking sick. Maybe we should take your temperature, yeah?”
So no, he'd keep the fact that one of her fellow students in the alchemy commission went around to all the guys he knew were in a relationship during the mess hall. Lunch hour as silverware clattered against those metal food service plates while some young lad with a diagram of all things pointed out…well...where to touch a woman in exchange for a hundred credits in turn.
Money well spent in his opinion if it had her looking at him like that. Glazed over eyes enough to have Jing Yuan wanting to press a kiss to those soft lips. To let her know just how she tastes.
“Maybe I'm just a natural; a prodigy just like you.”
Wouldn't that be nice? To know just where to touch her to have his name cried out like a prayer. The Reignbow Arbiter an afterthought to his fingers, but he was willing to give her the rest of their lives together to figure this out. To have her melt in his embrace on all the nights they will have, just like this one where she sneaked him into her dorms.
The door didn't even creak on their way in.
He didn't even stop to do anything more than lock the door before Jing Yuan had pulled (Y/n) into his arms. Hands playing with the fabric of that green dress as it traced over the
gold accents on her chest all the way up to the clasp keeping it shut as their lips met in hurried kisses. One after another as she tugged him along through the bedroom to help keep those heavy boots of his from accidently kicking and knocking over anything of importance as they found their way between boxes of files to the bed.
Designs of swirling mist made Jing Yuan feel like he was on cloud nine as they slid up her thighs.
She rolled her eyes as he asked about her underwear, wanting to know if it was just for him. If she anticipated this happening and wanted to look her best for him.
The thought was a sweet one.
But right now that pair was tossed off somewhere long forgotten as his face was covered in her slick, and hands forcing her legs apart as she writhed beneath him.
How long could he take without breathing in some more air? The thought only came to Jing Yuan as his ears buzzed the same way they would after staying too long underwater. (Y/n) his lake he would willingly jump in even if it drowned him.
“Pr-prodigy my ass.”
A kiss to her trembling thigh, eyes locking with hers.
“Are you saying I'm not doing a good job?”
“Not at all.”
‘Sure. She's so snarky even like this.’
A whine, a plea for more met him as Jing Yuan pulled his fingers out. The curve of her plush ass he wanted to squeeze and grope at again covered in spittle and arousal just like his mouth.
Maybe if she was in a sane enough mind she'd be saying something like it's been twelve minutes now. That is if she ever got the chance as he kissed her again. Body hovering over hers, taking note of just how small she looked under him.
How easy it was to grab her wrist and pull her flush against him.
Cock brushed against her through those damnable layers of clothes Jing Yuan wore that had his head burying away in her neck to take in the scent of herbs that clung to every piece of clothing she had. Trying to bite back a groan as he did his best not to rock against her in a frenzy, but it was (Y/n) who ran a hand along his bare back and whispered in their small sanctuary of sheets and pillows “we can stop if you're nervous.”
And like an over eager fool he rushed out a no.
“No, I promise I'm fine.”
‘Worried I'll cum in under a minute, but fine.’
“Besides, you made me wait for a full year so I'm not going to pass on this now.”
“Patience,” She teased back. Hand brushing along his cheek that he couldn't help but to press a kiss to. “Besides, it seemed only right to wait until we were both adults.”
“Is this where you lord over the fact you're three years older than me again?”
Though she hasn't done that since he passed her in height, much to a certain someone's annoyance.
“Maybe.”
Tightening his grip on her waist Jing Yuan pulled her impossibly closer. Her warmth, her laugh, her hands tracing the muscles on his back she could surely name off the top of her head like it was nothing, it was all a reminder of how much he held her dear.
“Can we….”
“Start now?” That laugh again, the curl of her lips as she looked up at him through those long lashes she has cursed everytime they ‘betrayed her’ by letting something in her eyes.
“Yes.”
It was as Jing Yuan had tugged those pants down and out of the way that she grabbed his chin to lead him into a kiss. The taste of her still there, still lingering as her lips parted into a moan as for the first time it was his cock that filled her. That they were intertwined in a way that would make the Aeons themselves blush.
And it was in that moment as his hips moved to meet hers with a wet squelch that had him biting his lip not to moan too loudly and give away what they were doing to any of her neighbors in the dorms did the words I love you fill the air.
Her hands in Jing Yuan’s hair as she whispered them right back.
I love you.
I love you.
That's what she said to him as the wind whipped around from an awaiting ship. Luggage in her hand as she looked back between the people on board who were walking back and forth from the dock to a place Jing Yuan couldn't see with wooden crates full of provisions. Old nails clearly being the only things keeping the boxes together as he watched the cloud knights assigned to this mission just like she was.
Blue armor much like his own, but he wasn't one of the few that were chosen for this. No, (Y/n) was. A healer is always needed.
“I shouldn't even be gone long. At most maybe a year. Maybe two.”
Far from long in the eyes of a Xianzhou native, that's for sure. The denizens of the Luofu had their lives tick by as the humans who came to the ship for trade and sightseeing grew old and suddenly stopped showing up. All due to a very obvious conclusion. But two years without her?
“Why wasn't it someone else assigned? There's always Aihan.”
“That girl? She still gets squirmish during autopsies.”
Meaning no can do.
The stomping of boots continued as men tread back and forth. Some of the knights even stopped to give Jing Yuan a respectful nod or even a wave before continuing on with their task. His brothers in arms despite the fact he wasn't going to be besides them on the field this time.
“Besides, it's only Yaguoret. This should all be wrapped up quickly. At least compared to the thirty year missions some people are assigned to.”
A shrug, like this, wasn't a big deal at all despite the fact they both have been on a battlefield now. They both knew what it was like.
“Look Yuan, I'll be back in two years at max and when I arrive in your awaiting arms,” her hand slid along the blue fabric of his uniform, playing with the material she had sewed back together for his time and time again, “you can keep me all to yourself for a week. Just you, I, cute dates or… other things.”
“Two weeks.”
“One and a half.”
“Two weeks, prodigy.”
The two stared at each other for a moment before she finally sighed, shoulders dropping for only a moment.
“Fine, two weeks. I'll be all yours.”
Grabbing her hand, Jing Yuan locks their pinkies together. Silly, childish really, but it always worked when they were younger. Though it was mainly her wrangling him into compliance.
“Promise me.”
“I-I…..promise.”
So why was he now sitting in her room staring up at Jingliu listening to his master say something he never thought would be uttered?
The file boxes had been taken away, the bottles that had once reflected his own golden eyes back to him as Jing Yuan asked about the contents now missing, even the terrarium for Ingredients (Y/n) never bothered to get rid of was gone like it never existed in the first place. The dorm room is bare, hollow of the personality it had accrued over years of use.
Photos of them ripped from the walls leaving dark squares from the sun aging the wallpaper that once framed those cherished memories.
“What do you mean she's been exiled?”
“I mean exactly what I say, Jing Yuan. Miss (Y/n) of the alchemy commission, student to cauldron master Haize, has been exiled from the Luofu.”
Jingliu's hand moved to rest on the empty desk, brushing over the dust that had accumulated during the past three months that no one had properly cleaned this room. It was always something he intended to do, to keep up with making sure this place was as spotless as he could make it so she wouldn't come back to dust bunnies and a fit of sneezes, but work had been suddenly thrown onto him like something was amiss. Something massive had obviously happened, but he knew better than to ask when every time those who talked about it would shut their mouths the second even a wisp of his hair was seen.
“The fact she wasn't sentenced to death is a surprise.”
Because of course no one would want to talk to him about his own partner being….
“This is a mistake!”
Getting up from bed that creaked under him from the sudden movement Jing Yuan stood before his master, eyebrows pinched together to keep himself from outwardly scowling at the woman he owes so much to after years of training with the sword.
“You know her just as well as I do! She never would have hurt anyone like this.”
“When I knew (Y/n) best was when she was a fledgling. A kid, just as you are now. Letting your emotions blind your view of the truth will do nothing to help you.”
“I've known her for fifteen years. There's no way the same woman I know who takes spiders outside after finding them would be capable of murdering a hundred knights.”
(Y/n) can't even hold a sword properly. She is a healer, a woman who makes mixtures and applies bandages. Who presses kisses to his wounds as Jing Yuan tries to brush them off like they're nothing to avoid the bitter sting of hydrogen peroxide she would mercilessly apply to him with a smile like nothing was wrong. A woman like that holds no contest to men trained for combat. Some of those men that were sent out even had hundreds of years under their belt.
“Even if she poisoned them?”
Jing Yuan hissed out a breath at that, jaw tensed just the same way it would when the antiseptic met his braised skin.
“She's…she may be capable but that doesn't mean-”
“After the soldiers died the effects started to show in the village people that lived on Yaguoret. Even cauldron master Haize said it was the same symptoms the corpses of the cloud knights seemed to have gone through.”
Jingliu pulled her hand back from the desk, a small coating of dust on her fingers she brushed off.
“Haize has done everything he can with what he has, but the people native to that planet keep dropping faster than he can try and make new remedies.”
The two stared at each other for a moment, like Jingliu was waiting for Jing Yuan to finish what she was trying to say himself, but he bit his tongue. Refused to use it. He wouldn't say the words aloud.
“Only your partner would know the best way to go about making a poison that her own master could not find an antidote, or whatever those alchemy commission bunch need, to stop this issue in time.”
“The elders have decided this will be written off as a plague. That will be what is documented as to keep Haize from having his position looked at with suspicion, but he will be on thin ice from here on.”
What Jingliu wasn't saying is: it's a wonder the man is keeping his job at all.
“This isn't possible.”
‘She wouldn't do anything to risk her…and the promise.’
As it felt like his chest was being clawed at by an invisible hand winding its way through his mouth, past Jing Yuan throat, and ripping his lungs apart to grasp at his heart Jingliu placed a letter in his lap. The envelope it was in clearly had been torn open, but it was his name on the white parchment with the ‘I’ dotted with a heart.
Somehow the sight of it made it even harder to breathe.
“She left this behind for you, clearly. When they were cleaning out her room trying to find evidence that was stumbled upon.”
That would explain why her room is so empty.
The words why is it open then we're right on the tip of his tongue, but they both already knew the answer to that.
“Do you know its contents?”
Jingliu nodded at that, not saying a word as her red eyes flicked down to the torn apart packaging of something that was supposed to be meant for only him.
“Does it mention…”
‘Does it mention why?’
“It's best you read it yourself if you want to know.”
It was the force of habit alone that had Jing Yuan nodding as he was given one last glance by his master before she left him alone. Most likely he can process this thing on his own, but just the sight of it, the idea of what's inside, made him feel sick. Hell, he was half tempted to burn it and throw the ashes of what's left out the window so he can watch them dance on the wind the same way those specimens of belladonna and jimson weed got carried away.
Swallowing down the taste of bile licking at his tongue, Jing Yuan folded up the envelope and tucked it away in his uniform.
That… can be saved for another day.
A day for centuries later.
A day for when he was stopped short as a bird flew down and nestled upon the crook between his shoulder and golden armor piece strapped down to Jing Yuan's arm. Little chirps filled his ears as he walked through the streets of the Luofu. Sing song, a perfect background to his afternoon stroll as the few people he passed by on this path he's memorized after years of use bowed their heads.
Surely, if it wasn't for the upkeep on the potholes or cracks in the sidewalk he would have worn the shape of his boots into the white concrete long ago.
Another chirp and Jing Yuan looked down at the red beaked creature with a lazy smile. These things were always so comfortable with him, to the point he's even gotten a few comments from Fu Xuan about being a Disney princess. Something he just nods along with without complaint.
It was amusing how much his acceptance seemed to annoy her.
“Now, now, if you're too loud you might make this old man lose even more of his heari….”
His hearing.
But there he was stopped short, one foot in the air waiting to follow along the path only he knows the exact details of even as people try to record the goings and happenings of the Dozing General. Frozen in space, in time, like it was ice that kept him stock still and not a single image that came onto one of those many blue screens depicting today's news.
The words wanted written right under the white and red pictures of Blade, Kafka, and a woman Jing Yuan never thought he'd see again.
That old ache blooming in his chest again like a flower in a patch of dirt just waiting to be watered as her eyes were revealed to him. Even in a drawing meant to capture her image they never changed.
Teasin, inquisitive, and seemingly filled with thoughts he never had the neverending years to dig into like he was planting his own garden.
Wanted Stellaron Hunters.
Turning on his heel the bird that was nestled against him flew off, its wings flapping away as it took flight, and he was left to stride out of Starskiff Haven with his boots thudding their way back to the Seat of Divine Foresight as Jing Yuan tried with all his restraint not to break out into a full out run.
“You're dismissed,” is all he said as he entered those old walls, loud and clear for everyone inside to hear.
Heads turned his way, some immediately moved to leave, and the blond rascal of a kid he was so fond of came up to him only to hold his tongue as he saw the look on Jing Yuan’s face. A “very well, general,” threw his way as Yanqing followed everyone else out.
Jing Yuan didn't even notice the glance back to him as the doors shut.
Now it was just him standing there on the giant board surrounded by blue holograms, banners hanging from the beams up above, scrolls stored away in their exact places, and the lion statues he himself commissioned to be built in this place.
All alone.
Just like he was with a letter he never wanted to read as his feet carried him to that desk he hovers over day after day. Fingers moving along the smooth bottom to press a button that forced a drawer open. Thin, barely able to contain anything at all. When he first got this piece and requested such an addition the odd looks didn't bother him much, not when the carpenter didn't need to know what it was for. As far as he cared the simple phrase ‘official documents’ would have held enough weight.
But it wasn't some folder filled with the Xianzhou Luofu's darkest secrets, well, not fully anyway. Rather, it was a torn open envelope and the messy scrawl of his name.
‘Jing Yuan’ staring back at him.
Even after all these years later and his memories fade in favor of a blanket of mist keeping all those years locked away, he knew well enough she didn't like to refer to him that way.
It was Yuan.
It was her Yuan.
The paper felt odd in his hands, despite the amount of times he's pulled it out and debated opening the thing before it fades away to dust, like it was brand new. A clean sheet of paper despite it no doubt having passed through multiple hands before something that was rightfully his possession fell into his grasp for the first time. Fingers teasing over the ripped envelope as he pushed it aside and pulled out a folded note.
It wouldn't be too late to back out now, just how he has done a hundred times before as he failed to bite the bullet even his old master was able to, but then the image of her flashed in his mind again. The wanted poster was an accurate portrait, but it still felt like a character compared to the memories that were like a migraine that never ceased to ache.
‘Evolution didn't choose you, short stuff.’
‘Since when did it hurt to stop and smell the roses?’
‘I don't care if I'm busy, I'll find the time to go on that date with you. I promise.’
‘I love you.’
‘I'll be back in two years.’
A whirlwind of moments together, of her words, that had him just barely creasing the note.
The thought that she promised to come back quickly buried away as he, for the first time, unfolded the note he's kept all these years without her by his side.
‘Dear Yuan,
I have drafted this letter over ten times now and I can't quite seem to get the beginning of this right, so I think it's best just to get into the thick of things. You agree, yes? I hope you do.
I'm sure the news of what has happened (or is about to happen, if you're looking from my point of view) has reached you now. Is this a shock beyond words or did a part of you know this was going to happen? We do tend to let our unconscious selves be quieted and hushed away by emotions. Such is the way of any sentient creature whose instincts do not drive them. But you cannot look me in the eyes and tell me this was not something you would fully deny being something I am capable of if you weren't driven right now by what I can only guess is…betrayal.
I didn't mean to be your first heartbreak, my Yuan. No, I never wanted that at all. I wanted things to stay just the way they were when you'd take that wooden sword of yours when Jingliu hadn't yet given you permission to wield a real one and chase me around with it because I teased you too much. Or maybe back when we would turn rocks over a day after it rained so we can try and find bugs together.
Oh Yuan, I could list countless moments I wish time had chosen to freeze us both in so this outcome never had to come to pass.
But it did.
Now don't get me wrong, I'm not sorry for my actions.’
The words ‘I can't afford to be’ were crossed out.
‘Do you remember that night when we snuck into the gardens? I do. Very well at that. I hope you do too, just for different reasons. That night to me was being with you, of enjoying our time, until you brought up the mara-struck. Those creatures that plague us all at the end of our lives like a withering flower bound to end up as nothing more than a husk of itself as its body is preserved much like that one I keep with a red ribbon tied around it (the one you gave me when you tried to ask me out like a bumbling mess) pressed between pages as it's currently being used as a bookmark. The abominations, they have made me realize something you might not have yet.
Maybe those three years I have on you really do mean more than I would care to admit. Maybe in three years time when you are at the age I am now you'll realize this for yourself too. This war is never going to end. This war will taint what is beautiful in the world. We were blessed to have a loll in the time we were growing up, but that is only because of the sacrifices of many given for such peace.
But still, many died when our eyes were blinded by youth.
And when the battles did come you were a guard on some street in the Luofu as I was called out of my dorm to treat the few men who came back from their efforts in the middle of the night. Blearly, I was lacking sleep, but I did my job just as I always have. That is what I told myself when I had to dissect my first body at the age of fifteen. ‘Do your job, girly’ despite the fact I was surrounded by those older than me and even they cringed as Haize yanked some pubic hair from a corpse to store into a plastic bottle for proper collection.
It took a while for them to forget this thing before them, this hunk of meat, was dead and therefore couldn't feel pain. It took me a while too.
Back to the men…They would come in covered in blood, scratches that were left by creatures I never would have dreamed of existing before until they told me about them as I figured out all on my own how to detach a chewed up limb from a man without making it too painful.
They still passed out in the end.
One day you will know war, you will know what it's like to be on the battlefield for more than a skirmish, you will know the smell of the dead as all their bowels release and the smell of shit fills the air, just as I do now after having been called to be a medic in those poorly put up tents behind the fighting men.
Yet I don't want people to have to know about war. I don't want you to know about war despite you jumping at every chance to prove yourself as a Cloud Knight. I don't want those people of Yaguoret to know about war as we descended on their planet. But it is inevitable. They are a poor people who know little of what to do with the land they possess, and we are a civilization that sees their planet for the resources it has.
It was already discussed after the first talks with the people there after they turned away our offers of trade that they needed to be…wiped out.
Children, mothers, fathers who can't even put up a proper fight, let alone to a Cloud Knight.
So if you are wondering if I killed our men, the very people we talked with in the mess hall, or annoyed on the training grounds, or that I bandaged in the past, then I have to tell you I will.
They won't survive, of course they won't. What kind of prodigy would I be if I couldn't make a simple poison that would properly kill a man? Or a good hundred.
Sorry, I shouldn't be making jokes now. Force of habit.
There will be no war if the people trying to make a war are dead.
There is no way to enact change without sacrifices. That is how medicine is made. First someone must come to you with an issue, a sickness, and it is their loss of life that allows you to test the boundaries of this illness.
But that doesn't change the fact that I will soon become a murderer.
Somehow I am calm, at ease, yet the most scared I have ever been in my life.
But I have cast aside my alchemy commission uniform. Green never was my color.
I am no longer a healer. A murderer cannot claim that title.
So, as I said before, I won't apologize for my actions, but I'm sorry I had to face this world before you did, to come to my own conclusions. I can't help but wonder if I was younger, if I didn't have those three years on you, if we could find our own conclusions together. Ones that we could support side by side that wouldn't result in this.
I suppose what I'm trying to say is-’
And the last words, with a dried teardrop smearing the letters so they were barely legible as Jing Yuan had to narrow his eyes to read.
‘I am sorry I grew up without you.’
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agathaswoman · 4 months ago
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Blood or Loyalty
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Pairing — Rhaenyra Targaryen x Queensguard Fem!Reader and Alicent Hightower x Kingsguard Fem!Reader's Twin
Word Count — 1,254
Request — Yes or No
Hi how have you been 
I have a story that I think will be interesting if you don’t mind writing it 
so if have watched the latest episode of HOD then you know the twin ser arryk was sent to pretend to be his brother ser errik so he can murder the queen but in the fanfic idea I have the reader has a twin who stayed back in kings landing with the greens because she’s in love with Alicent, but aegon sends the reader’s twin to dragon stone to pretend to be the reader and kill rhaenyra and you can decide how it ends 
Does she die  or does she catch on
Summary — Having to face your twin with your sword pointing at her and vice versa. Will your moral and loyalty for the rightful heir Queen Rhaenya will falter while trying to stop your beloved twin from harming the Queen?
Warnings — violence, anxiety attack, and breaking down
A/N — hi, yes, im back after years of hiatus T_T and im here again because of House of the Dragon omg i just love this series so much and tbh i still haven't watched any episodes on season 2 since im still waiting for it to finish hehe BUT i've seen some clips so i have bit of an idea  about the request. what team are y'all on? im team black since day 1 !!!
please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. i do not own any of the characters.
It is currently a slow night for you as you are patrolling the castle grounds, clad in your full armor while clutching the hilt of your sword that you named, ‘Porphura Hexen.’ Whereas ‘Porphura’ means purple, which is associated with “nobility, power, and ambition” while ‘Hexen’ comes from how people make rumors about you practicing witchcraft because of the unexplainable deaths of the men that tried to win your heart, where it's a guarantee that they will meet their demise. It's either they die on battlefields, catch a sickness that does not have a cure, or even how the family of those men slowly lose their riches and connections.
You were looking over the castle's embrasure when you heard unusual heavy footsteps that you hadn't heard ever since Queen Rhaenyra made you her Queensguard. You quickly unsheathed ‘Porphura Hexen’ as you stealthily followed the noise, you immediately quickened your pace when you heard Queen Rhaenyra's soft voice saying your name. You immediately barged into her room, and there, you saw your twin sister clutching her sword tightly and pointing its tip toward the Queen.
“Sestra!” You called your twin in your native language.
Without hesitation, you charged forward with your sword to attack your twin to take her attention off the Queen. She instantly turned your way and blocked your attack.
“What are you doing, sestra?!” You shouted at her trying to put some sense in her head.
“King's order! This is the King's order!” She shouted back at you as she was trying to prevent your sword from getting close to her neck.
“King's order, my arse! Stop this madness now! Are you out of your mind for trying to harm the rightful heir of the Iron Throne?!” You screamed at her as you put your strength on your legs so you could stand your ground and let the Queen run out of the room.
“My Queen! Go! Leave the room!” You said as you pushed your sister's body far from the Queen's way with the help of the force from your legs.
You heard your sister's body crash on a shelf which made the books fall on top of her head. So, you immediately went to your Queen's side and helped her up so she could escape the room along with the servant who got involved in the mess.
“Go, My Queen. I'll handle this,” when Rhaenyra was about to run along with the servant next to her, you reached for her wrist and gave her your dagger, quietly exchanging silent stares, “Take this. Be careful…my Queen.” 
You didn't wait for Rhaenyra's response as you immediately dodged an attack from your twin when she aggressively swung her sword at you.
“Go! Alert the guards!” You felt guilty for trying to order the Queen but it will always be your mission to guarantee the Queen's safety, no matter what.
Once you were sure that the Queen had a safe distance from your twin, you gave all your focus towards her and only deflected her attacks to you.
After a minute of only deflecting your twin's attacks, she cornered you into a corner with her blade's tip pointing at your neck, “Sestra…we should be in this together. You and I, just like the old times. We're born together, aren't we?” she tried to convince you.
“This isn’t just about the King's order…isn't it?” You asked, staring right into her eyes. Ever since the both of you are young gals, she can never hide the way her eyes falter when it is faced with your own piercing eyes.
She avoided your gaze, “It's about the Queen Dowager, ain't it?” She remained silent, only her shaky breaths indicated that your guess was right. “She's only using you, sestra!”
“My affairs with the Queen Dowager aren't and shouldn't be any of your concern,” she raised her voice a little bit when you spoke the truth.
“Not my concern? Have you gone mad?!” You looked at her with anger, not seeing the person in front of you as your twin sister anymore. You scoffed while frowning at her, “Just like the old times, huh? We took an oath! A vow, sestra! We are to fulfill our sacred duty To protect and serve the realm! Where have your honor and morals gone to, huh? They usurped Queen Rhaenyra's throne! The rightful heir!”
You sighed, leaned your head on the wall behind you, “Sestra…” Your twin whispered as she slowly lowered her blade pointing at your neck. 
You looked straight into her eyes, “We were born together, weren't we?” You said as you swiftly plunged your extra dagger into your twin's stomach, “You parted us…you forgot your oath, our vow, sestra.”
You watched her fall on her knees with blood coming out of her mouth and eyes going dull in seconds, “But I still love you, sestra.”
A thud was heard when your twin's body completely fell on the floor, her eyes looking at you with a lone tear streaming down to her cheek and the stone-cold floor.
You fell on your knees as you stared at her cold dead body. You heard multiple footsteps entering the room but you only focused on your twin's form as you slowly closed her lifeless eyes.
You took a deep sigh as you stood up with a grunt whilst picking up your sword. You faced the small council that gathered in the room with only their sleeping garments, “The assassinator of the Queen that was sent by The Greens has been exterminated.” You reported to them.
You swallowed deeply when you felt the urge to sob, but not here. Not in front of them. As the small council kept on discussing the event that happened, Rhaenyra only stared at you. She saw how your hands were quivering while trying to calm them by gripping your sword's hilt.
Rhaenyra cleared her throat, and the small council immediately turned silent, “Ser Y/N, you're dismissed. You've done enough for the day.”
You immediately turned your head at the Queen, “But, My Queen. With all due respect, as your Queensguard, it is my dut–”
“I am fully aware of what your duty is, Ser Y/N” Rhaenyra took a deep breath, “As my Queensguard, I need you on your best. So, please, take a rest. At least, just for a while.”
“We will still need you, Ser Y/N,” Rhaenys, Ser Corlys's wife, added.
Ser Alfred approaches you and pats your shoulder, “I'll take care of the things here myself. Now, in the meantime, take a rest.”
You sighed as most of the votes were against you staying around the small council. So, you dismissed yourself and went straight ahead to your room.
As you entered your room, you carefully took off your silver armor on your body and placed it neatly on its storage. You took your bloodied dagger as you sat on the edge of your bed.
The moment you sat on your bed, your twin’s voice rang inside your head, “Sestra, you…a-are always the better between the both of us. K-Keep believing y-yourself…and keep p-protecting the Q-Queen…Rhaenyra. I love you…” Your twin sister breathed her last breath after saying her last words.
You sighed deeply as you stood up and took a damp cloth to clean your dagger. As you are cleaning your sharp dagger, you feel your tears falling onto your hands. Soft sobs rang inside your room as you broke down behind closed doors, missing your twin's presence more than ever.
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writing-intheundercroft · 3 months ago
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Ser Freckles // S. Sallow
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Rating: T
WC: 2,743
Summary: As heir to the throne, the princess takes appointing her sworn protector very seriously.
A/N: Submitted as part of a writing challenge because I'm a glutton for starting AU projects. inspired heavily by HOTD (I've been looking for an excuse to use the name Gawayne). Much love to the pals who keep Knight!Seb living in my brain <3
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“Now that you are of age, and officially the heir to the throne, it’s time you appoint your first sworn sword.”
She looked up to Fig as they walked down the stone stairs, the excited chatter from the courtyard echoing off the walls.  Fig had been her tutor all her life, and only now did she realize her lessons with him had a greater purpose.  She was the only daughter of the king’s dearly departed brother, a king who lacked any heirs of his own.  And now that she’d turned eighteen, with no hopes for a male cousin in sight, she had been formally invested as the heir apparent.
Fig was no lowly court tutor, she realized. He’d been placed with her from her youth, preparing her for what had seemed like a distant possibility that she might one day become queen. Lord Eleazar Fig, a member of the King’s Counsel, had been priming her to take power all along.
”I’m not sure why I can’t keep Lady Singer,” she mumbled, kicking her skirts as they continued their descent. “She’s been my guardian for as long as I can remember.”
”Lady Singer is a governess,” Fig reminded her. “And in no way capable of being your sworn protector.  The young man you choose today will become a knight, sworn to your king's guard.  Can you remind me what the function of your king's guard is?”
”My queen’s guard,” she snipped, emphasizing the word, “will protect my counsel and me from harm, as well as my future heirs.”
“Precisely, Princess.” Fig smiled. “It’s largely a symbolic role considering the relative peace our realm has seen this past one hundred years, even more so with the city watch taking guard of the castle.  But the king—er, queen’s guard is a deep rooted tradition each house takes very seriously.  The gentlemen we’ve assembled today for your selection come from some of the great houses of the realm.  Others have been lauded for their bravery and skill in the battlefield.”
The princess and Lord Fig walked to the balcony, the crowd below falling into silence. There were six men (boys, she observed, especially considering she’d grown up with four of them around court) standing in the courtyard below.  They all wore gleaming armor, save for the last, wearing a dull set without embellishments.  Each had a pennant with their house sigil, members of their families standing behind them. The animals on each pennant were embroidered with gleaming metallic thread–lions, eagles, badgers, and snakes taking center, representing the great houses each family bowed to. 
Lord Fig took her hand, helping her stand on a stool to catch a better glimpse of her future knight.
”The first proposed candidate is Ser Leander Prewett,” Fig stated loudly. “Ser Leander is the second son of Lord Lyonel Prewett.  He is a fine duelist, trained by one of the land’s most notable swordsmen.”
She cocked her brow, observing the redhead below.  Tall, lithe, with a glorious mane of red hair.
”And rather shit on a horse,” she muttered under her breath. “Did you see him in the last tourney?”
”Horsemanship is not a requirement of a knight, Princess.” Fig muttered.
”He truly had no idea if he was facing the front, or the back.” She joked. 
Lord Fig concealed his laugh in a cough. He waved his arm, and Leander’s gleaming smile vanished into a rather sour expression as the next option stepped forward.
”Ser Garreth Weasley,” Fig announced. “The third son of Lord Gwayne Weasley.”
”I know Ser Garreth well,” she smiled demurely. “Is it not one of the oaths as my queen’s guard to take no wife, have no children, and to be sworn to uphold the duties of the crown until death or dismissal?”
”It is, Princess.”
She clicked her tongue. “I know very well my dear friend Lady Natsai would be quite upset if I took her beloved to my service.  I’d rather see the two of them happily married than split apart by duty.” She waved him backwards, knowing Natty would be pleased.  Garreth stepped back, cheeks red, but a relieved look on his face.
“The next option is Ser Amit Thakkar,” Fig looked down at his notes. “Son of the Dowager Lady Tara Thakkar. No notable tourney experience, he’s been—“
”Away for his studies in the new world,” the princess interjected. “I know Ser Amit quite well. Tell me, Ser, how was your research on the skies?  Anything new to report?”
“I’ve identified at least twelve constellations once lost to our maesters,” Amit announced excitedly. “And I do look forward to finding more.”
She tilted her head to Fig, eyebrows raised. “I do believe Ser Amit’s talents are better used with the college of maesters, rather than as a member of my queen’s guard.”
”Moving on,” Fig tutted. “Ser Duncan Hobhouse, son of—“
”No.”
”Okay, on to the next.” Fig winced, letting the young Duncan Hobhouse step back with a sigh. “Next is Ser Isaac Cooper. Son of Ser Tristan Cooper, the Lord Commander of the city watch.  Strong, steady, and good with a lance.  Ser Isaac has topped the tourney lists, specifically winning the tourney of Aranshire this past spring. ”
The princess chewed her lower lip as she appraised Ser Isaac.  He stood tall, black hair cropped closely to his head. His parents stood behind him proudly bearing the badger on their sigil.  Isaac gave her a beaming smile, followed by a rather obvious wink.
“I look forward to serving you, my princess, in all ways you see fit.” Isaac said loudly, followed by a showy bow. A gaggle of young ladies on the upper balcony giggled audibly, Ser Isaac blowing a kiss to his admirers.
The princess gagged, wrinkling her nose as she turned back to her tutor. 
”A tourney knight,” she huffed. “Tell me, Lord Fig, do any of these knights have real combat experience?”
Fig sighed deeply, beckoning forward the sixth option.  It was the knight in plain armor; unlike the others, he did not have a large gathering of family members behind him.  A thin, peaky girl stood by his side, wobbling on her feet as their sigil shook in her hands. The green velvet of the flag looked worn, but a silver snake had been embroidered into the fabric with metallic thread, red beads for eyes.  Behind them was a stern looking man, beard peppered with silver hairs.  
The boy paid them no attention, standing forward with his head bowed to her. 
“Ser Sebastian Sallow,” Fig cleared his throat. “The nephew of Ser Solomon Sallow, a former knight of the city watch.  He was dismissed from his post after the death of his brother, taking on the stewardship of his young niece and nephew.  Ser Solomon and his nephew Sebastian have taken the responsibility of patrolling the lower highlands, protecting their hamlets from ashwinders and poachers.”
She leaned forward over the railing, interest piqued by the humble knight below. “Tell me, Ser Sebastian, of your experience fighting against the ashwinder rebellion.”
He lifted his head, big brown eyes framed by an explosion of freckles. He had a round, boyish face for eighteen, thick brown hair descending in waves. A blush took over his cheeks as he dipped his head once more.
”I have fought against the ashwinders for the past five years, Princess.  For as long as my uncle has allowed me.” He said, tipping his head back towards the stern man. “The lower hamlets rarely see reinforcements from the city watch, so it is up to the residents themselves to gather arms.”
“And when did you become a knight, Ser Sebastian?”
Sebastian turned briefly to look at his uncle, who merely nodded. “The Lord Commander of the city watch was passing through our hamlet when he witnessed me apprehending a cohort of ashwinder assassins.” He adjusted his grip on the helmet in his hands, metal clanking as he shifted.  Unlike the others, there were no grand decorations, no feathery plumes attached to the helmet.  It was practical, well-worn steel that had seen battle many times before. “He knighted me on the field, after the battle.”
”One boy against twenty ashwinders,” Fig whispered in her ear. “Quite a feat.”
She braced her palms against the stone ledge, hair falling over her shoulders. He looked up at her intently now, eyes wide.  even with his armor on, she could see his throat bobbing, swallowing down his nerves.  
“That settles it for me. I choose Ser Sebastian Sallow.” 
The hall descended into loud whispers; the girl holding his sigil gasped with delight, while the man behind her dropped his mouth open in shock.  Sebastian knelt, but kept his gaze fixated upon her.  It was as if the chocolate brown orbs were burning into her, somewhere between admiration and curiosity. 
Fig gave her a knowing look. “Ser Sebastian it is.”
”I’ll leave the details to Ser Sebastian’s investiture to you, Lord Fig.” the princess said, stepping down from the stool. Her heels clattered against the floor, hands folded behind her back. “And measure him for new armor.  Something befitting my sworn protector.”
”The customary armor, of course, with your sigil on the pauldron.” Fig noted.
She paused, turning one last time towards her counsel.
”Don’t forget his snakes.” She reminded him. “Silver with ruby eyes.”
Fig tried to conceal his smile. “Yes, princess.”
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“You know we’re not allowed in the armory,” Poppy hissed, trying to tug on her skirt. “Lady Singer–”
“Lady Singer can kiss my arse,” the princess declared, enjoying the way her lady in waiting’s cheeks flushed. “I would like to supervise the fitting.  Will you join me?”
“I think not,” Poppy lifted her nose. “I’ll be off to the library to meet with Imelda.  You should stay out of trouble.” the brunette warned.
The princess pulled open the heavy door of the armory, grinning at her friend. “Trouble is my middle name,” she sang, waving goodbye as she entered the room.  The normally bustling armory was quiet at midday, with most of the knights standing guard.  She stepped past the rows of white cloaks, all hung under their corresponding owner’s name.  Weapons were stacked against the wall on wooden racks; she wouldn’t dare go near the spears, swords, and morningstars for fear of tipping them over.  Her slippers pattered against the flagstone floors as she walked deeper into the chamber in search of her new knight.
“There you are,” she declared, seeing him standing on the pedestal. Ser Sebastian Sallow stood in his freshly tailored white breeches and shirt, half dressed in his new gilded armor.
“Princess,” the armorer bowed his head quickly, stepping away from Sebastian. “I did not realize you were coming in to supervise the fitting.”
“Is it not tradition?” she asked, circling the pedestal with an approving nod.
“It is,” the armor rubbed his hands together anxiously. “For the king.  But you are a young lady, it’s hardly appropriate for you to be in the armory with a knight in a state of undress–”
“Ser Sebastian is my choice,” she pointed out. “So I will supervise the fitting of his armor and his sword selection, just as my uncle did for his sworn swords.”
“As you wish, princess.” The armor nodded. “I’ll fetch his sword at once.”  He bowed, walking backwards out of the room.
“Are you always so commanding?” Ser Sebastian asked, a hand on his hip.
“Only when they’re so formal.” she grinned, crossing her arms. “The armor looks good on you.”
Sebastian’s cheeks flushed. “Thank you.” he stammered. “And thank you for honoring my house.” he gestured to his pauldron, decorated with the Sallow family sigil. Instead of the crudely carved 
The armorer returned, holding a glimmering sword with a checked handle. “His sword, your grace.” he handed it to her for inspection. “I shall return shortly with his cloak; the seamstress was just finishing the hem.” He backed out of the room once more, leaving the pair alone.
The princess bobbed her head as she held the sword in her hand, testing its weight. “Good balance,” she mused, tossing it from one hand to the other.
“You’re trained with a sword?” Sebastian asked, eyebrow cocked.
She gave him a toothy grin, swinging the sword from side to side. “My uncle thought it best that I was taught the same as any other prince of the realm.” 
“I certainly agree,” Sebastian offered. “I trained my sister as best as I could before coming to the capitol.”
“Well then, should we practice for your investiture?” She asked. “On your knees, then.”
Sebastian sank to the floor, beaming up at her obediently.  He tipped his chin upwards, right hand resting over his heart. 
“Do you swear to uphold the code of the kingsguard?” she asked, trying her best to remember the vows Lord Fig had tasked her with memorizing.
“I do,” Sebastian echoed.
“Do you swear to guard the king with all your might, and give your blood for him and his heirs?” She recited the words slowly and thoughtfully.  The sword was beginning to feel heavy in her hands, but Sebastian didn’t budge.  He stayed, knelt below her on the ground, closed fist bound to his chest.
“I do.”
“Do you swear to take no wife, father no children, hold no lands? Do you swear to guard your king’s secrets, obey his commands, defend his name and honor?”
The princess blinked down at her chosen knight, hovering the blade over his shoulder. His big, brown eyes stared back at her, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.  She hadn’t noticed the freckles on his lips; then again, she’d never been so close to him before.  He looked both like a knight and a boy all at once–his armor was unfinished, missing the pauldron on his left shoulder that would bear her sigil.  Sebastian’s messy hair stuck up in the back, and the princess felt the strong urge to pat it down.
She instead remained steady, blade in hand.
“Do you swear, Ser Sebastian?” she asked.
“I swear to take no wife, father no children, nor hold any lands.  I swear to guard my queen’s secrets, obey her commands, defend her name and honor. For as long as I breathe, my life is my queen’s.” Sebastian gave her a coy look, eyes glittering with mischief; he aimed to flatter her, charming the princess with his change in verbiage.
Two could play that game, she thought. The princess lifted her sword, tapping it on both of his shoulders.  “By the grace of the future queen, I name you Ser Kiss Arse.” she declared dramatically.
Sebastian choked, and the princess laughed.  Her whole body shook with her giggles, and Sebastian pouted. 
“No fair,” he complained. “Pick a better name.”
“Fine,” she wiped a tear from her eye. Feigning composure, she straightened her posture and gave him her best queenly glare. “By the grace of the future queen, I name you Ser Freckles.”
“You’re making a mockery of it,” Sebastian whined.
“We’re practicing, remember?” She snorted. “I promise, I’ll be much more official during the actual ceremony.”
Sebastian huffed. “Fine then.  But if I get a nickname, then you get one too.” he warned. “Princess Picky is what I’ll call you.”
The princess scoffed, backing away. “Who called me picky?”
Sebastian gave her a sheepish look, rubbing the back of his neck. “Everyone at court, actually. They thought you were too picky with your requirements of the kingsguard.  The public is fairly certain you’re making a mistake in picking me as your sworn sword.” his smile faltered, a wave of doubt crashing over his face. “My family has no riches, no influence at court.  I have nothing else to offer you.”
The princess chewed her lower lip, dragging the sword behind her as she leaned down to face her knight. “It is no mistake,” she murmured, pressing a hand to his shoulder. “You are the most deserving of the title.  I chose you. And if that makes me picky, so be it.”
Sebastian touched her wrist; the gesture shocked her, eyelashes fluttering from the surprise embrace.  But she did not move her hand–the princess kept it on his uncovered shoulder, her hair falling in her face as she looked down at her sworn protector.
“Princess Picky and Ser Freckles,” Sebastian joked. “An eclectic pair.”
She gave him an earnest smile. “I’d have it no other way.”
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flowerandblood · 8 months ago
Text
The Fall from the Heavens (17)
[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]
[ warnings: angst, swearing, violence ]
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[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]
The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.
Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
_____
Although she feared that her father and mother would hate her, although she suffered at the thought of losing her unborn sister, the day after they returned to King's Landing was the most beautiful day of her life.
After their nightly honest and painful conversation, at last they both shook off the burdens they had carried on their shoulders for so many years, confessing their regrets and thoughts to each other.
After this, there was some kind of change in her husband, as if he had expected this conversation to destroy everything once and for all, to turn them away from each other, when in fact the complete opposite had happened.
It helped.
When he took her on the table that afternoon, when she felt his thirsty, tender touch on her body, she thought that at last things were as they should be.
And then he smiled, lightly and sincerely for the first time since she had seen him years later.
Although they waited in dread for an answer from Dragonstone, this period was also a time of hope for them; the prospect of a peaceful resolution despite the approach of his grandfather and mother filled them with a reasonable calm that allowed them to take a breath.
They did everything they could.
No matter what she thought of her usurper uncle, he, unlike their grandfather, had imposed fair conditions on her mother, ones that she could in fact agree to.
The next day, like every morning, her husband was training in the courtyard with Criston Cole. Although she had been reluctant to poke her nose out of her chamber for the past few days, she now felt better and, encouraged by the beautiful cloudless sky lit by the sun, decided to go outside.
At this hour, as usual, the Red Keep seemed unusually quiet and peaceful to her, with only the guards and servants walking hurriedly past her, trying to keep up with their duties without even noticing her.
She smiled involuntarily when she heard the loud clang of steel and spotted them in the distance walking under the cloisters, just as she had then, as a child, watched her uncle duel. She thought with some kind of pride, watching the sure, swift slashes of his sword, that only Daemon could now match him in hand-to-hand combat.
She felt a pleasant satisfaction at the sight of her uncle pushing against Ser Criston, leaving no one under any illusion as to who was dominating the duel.
Cole knew that her husband had taken it out on him for what he had done to her and forced him to give in every time.
She lifted her chin higher, sighing contentedly as the blade of his sword pressed against his neck, Cole raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.
Her uncle turned the hilt of his sword in his hand and lowered it, a dangerous grin full of mockery and satisfaction on his lips; he stopped in mid-motion, his eye spotting her in the distance, seeming not to recognise her at first. He blinked, watching her from afar.
Encouraged by his attention, she walked down the stone steps into the courtyard, squinting, blinded from the sun; her husband stabbed his sword into the ground, coming towards her with a lazy step.
"What is it?" He asked uncertainly, his face expressing concern and surprise, his eye wide open, as if he could not believe she had left her chamber of her own accord.
"I have always enjoyed watching you duel. Does my husband deny me that pleasure?" She asked softly; she saw his Adam's apple wave as he swallowed hard, his lips parted slightly.
"Tis not my desire." He hummed, and she felt a pleasant shiver run along her spine at his words.
She felt as if they were children again.
There was something wonderful about it, something joyful, something that made her feel a renewed desire to live.
She trembled when he tentatively raised his hand, when his fingers touched her cheek, when his thumb ran over her jawline, his eye watching her thoughtfully.
When he leaned in, when he pressed his warm lips to hers in a soft, wet kiss she felt a wonderful heat in her lower abdomen, her heart sang with pleasure, her fingers touched his wrist.
He pulled away from her, looking at her with misty gaze; she could smell his sweat, hear his quiet murmur of contentment as she stroked his cheek with her palm, when her lips placed a soft, butterfly kiss on the tip of his nose.
She knew that Criston Cole, the guards, the servants could see this and it delighted her most.
Though distrustful at first, she agreed after her husband's persuasion to accept an invitation from her uncle to dine with him and Helaena in his chamber.
She felt that in doing so, Aegon was creating a faction inside the faction, showing his mother and grandfather that the fate of what was about to happen no longer lay in their hands.
Although she believed that Alicent did in fact want to protect her children, she did not trust their grandfather and knew that Aegon had no love for him either.
As it turned out, his invitation had a double bottom.
"Furious Borros Baratheon is on his way to King's Landing with his daughter, whom he expects and agrees you should marry. I fear he will regard your secret marriage as invalid and demand that you fulfil your vows." Said her uncle, putting himself a bit of roast from the tray, handing it to his sister-wife, who looked at her uncertainly.
She felt her heart begin to pound like mad, terrified, and looked out of the corner of her eye at her husband, his lips pressed into a thin line.
"It's out of the question." He said coolly, and she felt instant relief at the thought that he hadn't changed his mind.
That he wouldn't betray her.
"I am aware of that, however, the matter is delicate and complicated. I have decided, on the advice of my wife, to simplify it. Today you will marry in the presence of the Septon."
She and her husband looked at each other in shock; the loud conversations of servants and guards could be heard from behind the open window. Aegon took a deep sip of wine from his cup, putting it down on the table with a loud clink of steel.
"The King and Queen will witness your wedding. The Septon will write a proper marriage act, which he will sign under threat of losing his head. This will officially settle the matter and enrage Borros Baratheon, but it will also surprise him. I will then offer him a seat on the Small Council for his son and financial compensation, which you, my brother, will cover from your annual income."
Said her uncle; she heard her husband turn in his chair beside her with a loud creak of wood and nod, swallowing hard, playing with his cup in his hand.
She glanced up at Aegon and frowned as she saw their eyes meet; she lowered her gaze immediately, thinking with disapproval that although part of her abhorred him, it was only because of him that there was any hope for her and his brother.
"Do you love him?" She heard his impassive, calm voice, saw Helaena and her husband move uneasily in their seats.
"− Aegon −"
"I am not speaking to you." He replied coldly to his brother, looking at her, stretched out comfortably in his chair.
She looked at him in disbelief and swallowed loudly, feeling her lower lip begin to tremble, tears of pain gathering in the corners of her eyes at his question.
Gods.
"I stayed here for him. I gave myself to him." She muttered regretfully; Helaena quickly grabbed her hand lying on the table, squeezing it in her own.
"My brother has been calling you a little whore all these years. He used to say: she surely fucks with her guards like her pathetic mother." He said softly, cocking his head, curious about her reaction. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that her husband had covered his face with his hand, devastated, his sister cast him a quick, sharp look full of regret.
She involuntarily chuckled at his words, feeling the pleasant evening breeze flowing in through the open windows envelop her heated cheeks.
"I am aware of it. He shared those very thoughts with me the very first evening when we spoke to each other years later." She sneered; Aegon burst out laughing loudly, placing a hand on his stomach, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Indeed, it sounds like something my younger brother would do."
After her uncle shared the details of his plan and informed them of the location of their clandestine meeting, they returned to their chambers to prepare. Her husband escorted her to the door, tense; she could feel that what had been said filled him with anxiety.
"Do you still wish to do this?" He asked in a hoarse voice, as if he thought what he had thought of her over the years and what she had learned might have influenced her decision.
"And has anything changed, uncle?" She answered question for question; she saw that he threw her an impatient look in which relief lurked at the same time.
"No."
"Then you have your answer."
As promised, Helaena brought her one of her rich gowns; being a prisoner in King's Landing, she only had a few of her garments, as the rest of them were left in Dragonstone. Her aunt helped her comb her hair, forming a bun from some of the curls at the nape of her head, surrounded by braids, letting the rest flow freely down her back.
The gown she'd brought her was gold, with open, exposed shoulders and wide sleeves slit at elbow height, its cut perfectly emphasising her pleasing figure. Looking at herself in the mirror, watching as she put pins with gold pearls into her hair, she thought that this was not how she had imagined her wedding day, but she felt happiness nevertheless.
She knew that this time it would look the way it should.
Her aunt had put a plain grey cloak over her shoulders and placed a hood over her head, hiding her attire that might arouse suspicion. Looking straight into her eyes, she thought with warmth in her heart, squeezing her hand in her own, that during this time she had been watching over her, being there for her during the hardest moments of her life.
"I am grateful to you for everything you have done for me. I wish your husband would give you what you deserve." She muttered, stroking her skin with her thumb, wanting to show her in any way that she also wanted her happiness. Helaena stroked her shoulders, turning her head, her gaze dreamy and calm, her lips curved in a gentle smile.
"He is the father of my children." She said softly, folding her hands on her womb, looking somewhere far away thoughtfully. "And it is only the fate of our children that matters."
They left her chamber together, not speaking to each other, heading ahead along the corridor; just as they suspected, they came across guards who wanted to know where the princess was taking the prisoner.
"To the King, as ordered by him."
"Queen Alicent has commanded that she not leave her chamber after dark."
"I am the Queen, Ser."
The guard swallowed loudly, looking at his companion, and then nodded, letting them pass.
Helaena grasped her hand, turning suddenly, leading her down a steep staircase into an underground lit only by barely smouldering torches.
It was rare for anyone to go down there, judging by the smell she concluded it was a former larder. She shuddered as she heard a rat run past her feet and swallowed loudly, wondering how Aegon had found this place and what he was doing here.
After a moment they emerged from the dark corridor into one of the chambers where she spotted three figures − a man of similar age to their grandfather dressed in modest grey robes tied at the waist with a cord, next to him stood Aegon and her husband. She swallowed loudly seeing his attire.
He wore a dark red tunic with gold ornaments in the shape of writhing dragon heads, she had never seen him in such colours before.
Neither Green nor Black, just like her.
Their marriage was supposed to be beyond division, a symbol of reconciliation.
For some reason she felt distress and anxiety, as if this was indeed her first wedding; her hands trembled as she untied the knots of the cloak she had pulled off with the help of her aunt, her golden gown shining in the firelight. She saw her uncle-husband's pupil narrow at this sight; he swallowed hard, trailing his gaze across her entire figure, tense.
She looked uncertainly at Helaena, and she nodded, so she gathered her courage and moved ahead, this time of her own accord, fully aware of what this entailed by going to marry the man she thought she had lost forever.
She involuntarily breathed through her mouth as she stepped in front of him, playing with the fingers of her hands in a nervous gesture, looking straight into his eyes.
The expression on his face a mystery to her, his gaze seeming to almost burn her, piercing and dark.
She felt the Septon cast an uncertain glance in Aegon's direction; he nodded, ordering him to begin. The man grunted quietly and turned to her husband.
"You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection."
She saw her uncle swallow heavily, turning towards his elder brother, who handed him a golden cloak embroidered in shiny red thread with their family crest. With a sweeping gesture, her uncle placed the cloak over her shoulders; she was unable to look away from his face, hearing in her mind his words spoken in rage to her father.
She is my wife.
Who her father was no longer matters, for she belongs now to my family, for our children will bear my name.
She heard him swallow hard, clearly filled with extreme emotion as much as she was – she sighed as he took her hand in his, lifting it up.
"We stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife: one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder."
Said the Septon tying their entwined hands with a ribbon, thus symbolically uniting them for eternity.
She could not believe that this was really happening.
"In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words." Said the Septon lowly, and they looked at each other, breathing loudly, clutching their fingers tightly.
"Father,
Smith,
Warrior,
Mother,
Maiden,
Crone,
Stranger
I am hers | I am his
and she is mine | and he is mine
from this day, until the end of my days."
They both fell silent, hearing the echo of the words they had spoken spread around them, looking at each other in disbelief.
She could see that his lower lip was trembling, his nostrils twitching in accelerated breath, his eye wide open, red with emotion.
He should say that he was sealing the marriage with his kiss, but it seemed to her that he was unable to get anything out.
He was moved.
This thought, the thought that he really craved this, that he had really waited for her for so many years, hating and desiring her at the same time made warm tears one after another flow down her cheeks; she pressed her lips into a thin line feeling her breasts rise and fall in quick, ragged breaths.
And then he did something she hadn't expected, which was sweeter and more tender to her than any kiss.
He drew her to him, locking her in a desperate, strong embrace of his arms; his fingers dug into her skin hidden beneath the thin material of her gown, cuddling his face into the hollow of her neck.
They were husband and wife.
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pianostarinwonderland · 26 days ago
Text
Thoughts on the Lost in the Book Halloween Event [Ep 1-3]
hello 🤠🤠 guess which bitch decided to kick this blog alive after checks calendar 6+ months of inactivity.......
unfortunately, twistie wonderworld has created a not-azul character that appeals HEAVILY to my tastes 🧍‍♀️ and you may as well call me dead with how much i've thrown myself off a cliff over mr skully j graves
this is also not counting that AZUL MOTHERFUCKING ASHENGROTTO IS IN THE EVENT AND THEREFORE I GET DOUBLE WHAMMIED
SO ANYWAY. I WOULD HAVE DONE EPISODE BY EPISODE SCREAMING AND CRYING BUT MY ASS HAS BEEN TIRED AND BUSY THE PAST TWO WEEKS. BUT THIS RECENT UPDATE HAS GOTTEN ME BY THE T H R O A T SO IM UP. REVIVED. AND ABOUT TO BLOW PPL'S EARS OFF WITH MY THOUGHTS ON THE LORE, AZUL, AND SKULLY
since all 3 episodes have been long out, i'll just give my thoughts on the theories that sprung, thoughts on moments that struck me, and thoughts on the most interesting lore we get
Episode 1
it is embarrassing to admit how many times i've entered 1-4.
when i heard the voiced line, i was like ?!??!1/1!?!1 because not even rollo and fellow got that much voiced lines
and then when i saw the translation, it was joever for me
YOU CANT JUST GO "hello, hey, you who slumbers in my arms, can you hear my voice? please wake up for my sake" AND EXPECT ME TO BE NONCHALANT ABOUT IT................ IM JUST A GIRL
anyway when he said moshi and wagahai, that was when people started going oh fuck is he even from the present?? IS HE EVEN HUMAN???? and his asking what magical pens are does Not Help
all i can add further to this discussion is that i have not seen enough discussion about the fact that we don't really see his ears in the live2D............
his school lore is rly interesting too because he implies that magical stone distribution isn't equal unlike what the nrc cast have now (which is that they each have 1 stone of the same quality). so if the theories about him being a past nrc student are true, then it opens up a lot more lore about nrc's history
speaking of "skully being a past nrc student" theories, i do actually support them! for one, epel was silenced by jamil when he was about to say that they're students of night raven college. writing direction wise, i find it a very suspicious move to cut epel off just before he mentions where they go to school. but i think the strongest evidence right now is the detail that a jp tweet pointed out, in which skully also called the town in sage island the foothill town. said tweet said that night raven college students would call it the foothill town because it's how they see it from their point of view of being on a cliff. to them it's the town on the bottom of the cliff, or the foot of the hill. but for royal sword academy students let's say, since the town is just right next to them, they wouldn't call it the foothill town because it doesn't make sense in the perspective of where they're located. tho ill say, im not really sure if it Is officially called the foothill town in the twisted universe (it is called the foothill town officially in location names though). if it is officially called the foothill town in-universe, then consider this evidence null
its pretty crazy to me how deliberate the cast choice in this halloween feels because u really feel it when riddle called for a leader's meeting and it was just first years left alone. overblottees altogether is already an INSANE choice that i'll get back to later in this post, but for majority of them to be dorm and vice dorm leaders, it's p interesting. but it ends up making sense tho later on when they start doing halloween prep (and let's be real, if it was the others, barely anything would be ready)
it. left me insane. how skully gave everyone a kiss. like sure, it probably wasnt the best feeling to have your hand kissed without consent. BUT. I REALLY LIKE THAT HE DOES IT TO EVERYONE. INCLUDING US. im pretty weak to being included in general, so skully rly stole my heart here, like the kiss on the hand (WHICH IM ALREADY WEAK TO) isnt already stealing my heart. it adds sm to his character too 😭 when u account for how he's been made fun of, him talking to everyone and including even yuu is a way of him coping with the loneliness he's experienced 😭😭 he tries to be gentlemanly to everyone he meets
hinterlands!! just a side note, but when i was watching nightmare before christmas earlier, i realized how similar the hinterlands doors are to the mirrors in twst. cause u can still arrive at the hinterlands from the different towns, the doors just let u travel faster to them. the beginning of the movie also specified that nightmare before christmas was set in a time long long ago, when it was the age of the holidays. though the halloween townsfolk aren't familiar about twisted wonderland, it's a really cool thought to consider that maybe they were in the same world, it's just that they wouldnt have called the entire world as twisted wonderland, they just know of their own towns. or at the very least, in-universe, the writing of hinterlands' doors was inspired by OR PROBABLY inspired mirror travel
SKULLY LOSING A BIT OF HIS POLITE SPEECH WHEN HE MET JACK SKELLINGTON, IT'S SO CUTE 😭😭😭 but i also wanna bring it up now that having this event feature both the og character and the character twisted from them is BIG. the moment jack skellington was teased in the trailers, i knew twst was starting to bring out the big guns. i always figured ever since way back then that twst was going to let us meet the great seven, but we just don't know How. but it's Big that we even get to see the interaction between the movie character and the twisted character because it may be a possible foreshadow to what may happen once we start to tackle the historical revisionism of the great seven's' stories and how our characters will react to it. halloween 2 and glorious masquerade were also used to foreshadow book 7, so lost in the book nbc event foreshadowing something like book 8 or hell even book 9 would make sense.
HAHAHA AZUL BEING ABSOLUTELY TERRIFIED WHEN JACK SKELLINGTON SCARED HIM AND EPEL EVEN JUST A LITTLE BIT YEAH GET REKT ASHENGROTTO HAHAHAHAHA KEEP DOING WHAT UR DOING PUMPKIN KING 🥰🥰🥰 SEEING AZUL SCARED SHITLESS IS SO FUNNY
Episode 2
ok episode 2. god fucking damn it this episode RUINED ME PERSONALLY
but before we get to that, i wanna talk about skully's vision of halloween because i found it very interesting
when he was talking about how halloween should be silent, dark, and a time of reflecting on repentance and atonement where you can have an aid for it (like a pumpkin or a candle), i genuinely felt my catholic upbringing hit me way harder than with rollo. i SWEAR i've had my mom tell me once or twice while i was a kid that halloween is supposed to be a holy day because of the word hallow, and how it was called hallows eve😭😭 and how it's not good to dress up in costumes of witches, monsters, and devils because it's devil worship or smth. and it's also why we never had halloween decor growing up. im pretty sure she no longer remembers that cause we're now way more lax about those things, it's just that damn, i'm just saying y'all, i would 100% believe a person in 2024 celebrates halloween similar to skully's version
maybe it's just me being stupid pilled, but i really find the situation very ironic. i know that the interjection of the night raven college boys to voice out their disagreements about skully's way of celebrating halloween is to mirror the interjections of the townspeople when they were trying to understand and even voicing out disappointments about jack's presentation of christmas. but i find the scenario very very interesting because irl, christian puritans and conservatives would scoff at the pagan traditions, call them barbaric while we're at it, and do the whole thing of inserting christianity into it. it doesn't help that pope gregory III called november 1 as a day to honor all saints and then oct 31 was called all hallows eve, and then the christians celebrated some of the samhain traditions as well. but you see here in the story how it's the night raven college students, who promote a festive and more modern halloween, calling skully barbaric for his ideas of halloween, especially for the elimination of ghosts.
some ppl might find skully's ideas boring or too traditional. for me, it's kinda just a matter of differing cultures. like, i've grown up having a mix of trick-or-treating halloweens and halloweens where i just stay indoors. and i grew up in a catholic sphere where halloween in skully's vision is much preferred. so maybe it's just me but i can't really hate his vision. at the same time, i've also been on the side of completely shutting down people who bring up arguments rooted in strict catholic tradition, simply because i looked down on them. but i got lectured (not directly) that we shouldn't immediately shut down those arguments because hey, there are points that are made, esp if worded right. so reading this conflict in episode 2 tickled my brain. in the end, though, my overall thoughts are: i think that while skully looking down on people for disagreeing with him is something for him to improve, nrc students aren't totally in the clear either. they're all fair for having their disagreements, but in twisted fashion, they're all stubborn as hell
this also made me think about the ghosts and how the vast majority of twst might perceive them. the population of twst is still vastly non-magical, and while the dead are generally celebrated, i can't help but wonder if nrc's harsh reactions to skully's bias against ghosts is due to the fact they are in a campus where ghosts are able to manifest all year round and therefore they get to interact with them. but for a good majority of the population that cannot see ghosts nor are they mages, how do they really feel about the ghosts? i find it to be food for thought. and on that topic, people also avoid ramshackle because it's haunted. though,,, from the way halloween is characterized in twst, it sounds like everyone really celebrates the ghosts coming to the living, esp because the magic is stronger everywhere. but are all cultures receptive to that..?
anyway, poor skully had to meet the jack who's been seeking out something different for halloween (esp bc movie jack was dissatisfied initially with his pumpkin king schtick) so he's had to have his ideas rejected
jamil's so kind as to comfort skully. very interesting part though from azul 👁👄👁 he's like "well if his ideas get rejected then he should just make a new proposal, don't give up" and it's just a nice lil look into his projection. like dang azul :') it's obvious that he gets up very quickly after every setback, but knowing that in his mind, he Has to get up quickly, and thus expects everyone to do the same,,, ,he never gives himself time to breathe and process, i kinda cry for him. jamil thankfully being like "yea he can do that but still, it sucks to be rejected" like yes jamilllll say it!!! on another note, this feels like a really good idea to write for an azujami fanfic :)
THE MUSIC GROUP SEGMENTS. WHY ARE AZUL AND SKULLY INTERACTING REGARDING MUSIC. TWICE.
like the first one, we get to know the music tastes of azul, jamil, riddle, and skully. azul, being the gay ass bitch he is, exposes jamil's music taste, being fast tempo music one can dance to
as a classical music girlie, i personally lost my mind when skully asked if it was waltz or tango music 🤡🤡🤡 LIKE. WAAAAHHHHH WALTZ AND TANGO MUSIC ARE ABSOLUTE BANGERS PLS I NEED PPL TO BE FAMILIAR WITH THEM AND OUGH OUGH THE THOUGHT OF DANCING A WALTZ WITH SKULLY AND—
azul u bitch telling us that u listen to a lot of genres and play jazz music for mostro lounge fucfkfufkcff LIKE THE JAZZ IS A GIVEN. BUT AZUL WDYM BY A LOT OF GENRES. DO U STILL LISTEN TO JAZZ AZUL? OR HAVE U DABBLED INTO TAYLOR SWIFT AND OLIVIA RODRIGO? ARE U SECRETLY A CHAPPELL ROAN AND CHARLI XCX GIRLIE? HAVE U LOOKED INTO INDIE ROCK BANDS? DO U ALSO LIKE CLASSICAL TOO PLEASE SAY YES
riddle, in typical fashion likes classical music!! AND SKULLY ALSO LIKES CLASSICAL MUSIC YYYYYYYYYYESSSSS FUCKKINIGFIGNFDNKGNKFD WINNINGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
AND JACK ASKED HIM WHAT SKULLY LIKES AND SKULLY SAID HE LIKES OPERA AND IM SO HAPPY THAT SKULLY GOT TO FANGIRL ABT JACK ALSO LIKING OPERA AND EVEN SINGING FOR THEM (and jack's singing is amazing like no cap)
but also suddenly i regret not listening to more opera in my life. im sorry puccini for ignoring u all this time. i may or may not have binged some opera music the night of the update.
BUT THE SECOND MUSIC DISCUSSION. REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
WHAT DO U WANT FROM ME TWST ISTG. WHAT ARE U DOING MAKING SKULLY GO "ooh ive been thinking of learning how to play the piano" AND AZUL GOING "i know a bit of the piano!" U CANT JUST TEASE US ONCE AGAIN ABOUT AZUL'S PIANO EXPERIENCE WHILE ALSO MAKING SKULLY WANT TO PLAY PIANO.. .. ..... ...
that aside, idia also mentions doing programming music, so like MIDI and shit. wooo sound prod idia lezgooooooo
i do love also that skully asks us if we play music!! AND AZUL BEING EXCITED IF WE DO SAY THAT YES WE CAN DO MUSIC, OUGH AZUL U PREDICTABLE MF BUT ALSO THE WAY U MOTIVATE ME
anyway, just before the second music group segment, we get a really nice conversation between skully and sebek, in which skully shares that he's afraid if everything he's known is so far from reality. and sebek's like ok u respect tradition but u also have ur ideals, u should be more firm in ur ideals. and skully's poetically thanking sebek for showing him the light, and ty sebek for contributing to the future shitshow that skully will start in episode 4
Episode 3
ah yes. the episode where i lost all my marbles
first part, we get lock, shock, and barrel popping in. jack said that they were going to help out, but they ended up causing a lot of chaos
absolutely LOVE how they rattled almost all of the students, like i wheezes at lock calling epel a shortie and epel losing it. then vil's like, epel that is a CHILD insulting u, dont stoop to their level. and then lock was like ewwwww ur eyelashes look like centipedes, and vil was like SAY WHAT BITCH and jamil's reminding him of what vil just said.
AND THEN THE FUNNIEST MOMENT OF THE EVENT: LOCK GIVING JAMIL A BUG ON HIS HAND, AND JAMIL PROCEEDING TO FAINT
in true gay fashion, azul tells epel and the audience about jamil's fear of bugs
SECOND FUNNIEST MOMENT: LOCK OFFERING THE BUG TO JADE BUT JADE'S LIKE nah give it to vil and epel BUT THEN HE'S CALLED BORING AND THAT FUCKING TRIGGERS HIM???? JADE LEECH, THE MAN THAT DOESN'T USUALLY GET FAZED BY PEOPLE'S THOUGHTS OF HIM, GETTING PISSED OFF THAT HE'S CALLED BORING TO THE POINT THAT HE GOES "give me the bug. i will even make exciting reactions. just give me the bug." LIKE HOLY SHIT FKDHFAKJBFSKANFKNSAF THIS MAN HAS A COMPLEX ISTG
barrel sticking candy onto riddle's clothes and then eating it, u see riddle and trey being hella weirded out by that
idia's like, i wanna go away from this i do Not like parties, but malleus completely mishears idia and is like omg party? you want an invitation to a party too? omg me too bestie and idia's like oh my god nO
then u see shock staring at malleus and sebek's yelling at her but she's quiet.... until she hops on top of malleus
sebek's like WAKASAMA ILL TAKE THEM OUT FOR U but malleus is like don't sebek.......... I WILL TAKE THEM OUT MYSELF lightning strikes
congrats to azul, trey, leona, and idia for having the privilege to just stand there and panic at the chaos going on
jack is hella sad about the state of things
and SKULLY. SKULLY IS PISSED AT HOW MUCH OF A MESS THINGS HAVE GOTTEN. AND THEN HE'S LIKE IM GONNA TAKE CARE OF THIS
ANDDDDDDD THE MOMENT THAT MADE ME DIE IN CHAT: "Light the lanterns. Scary Night (Oct. 31)!"
guys i think skully likes halloween, im not sure tho
anyway, skully's unique magic can change people into pumpkins, and lock, shock, and barrel turn into pumpkins. once skully transforms them back, they're like do it again !! but skully's like no my UM is still developing so i cant use it more than once. but still, this impresses everyone.
SOME LORE ABOUT MAGIC: jamil says that skully's um is pretty advanced because it's appearance changing magic, which is already really hard with the aid of a transformation potion. and leona points out that while it might not work on those with high mana, it can at least catch someone off guard. i think it is also worth bringing up that transformation potions generally are banned, so this is a really interesting um that can still be perfected and developed !!
poor sebek, he gets jealous and tries to assert dominance but even malleus compliments sebek, and that pisses him off more SKDFJNSDKSDSKF
anyway sebek demands a third round of splitting into different teams so he can try to be with malleus, even when everyone was already happy enough with their teams
well sebek won finally BUT poor skully, he's now separated from jack AND HE'S CRYINGGGGG
leona is so funny, he's like oh thank GOD im not with the octavinelle bitches, and azul's like aw dont be lonely there :))) istg i love these two bitches and their bitchiness rubbing off each other, it's so yummy (and with the latest octa manga update it's made even YUMMIER)
can i just point out that for three consecutive rounds, azul's been in the music team. LIKE TWST CMON IF THIS ISN'T TEASING US ABOUT AZUL PLAYING MUSIC IN A LATER EVENT, IDK WHAT IS. PLS TWST. PLEASEEEEEEEE
too bad for leona, he reunites with his bitches later on 🥰 and by GOD the banter and the lore drops here are really yummy
well first off, we gotta get to the convo between leona and skully. skully compliments leona and stuff but leona's like ok bro u gotta focus on urself first. don't look away from ur dilemma rn that what u thought ur idol was is not how he actually is. basically, skully gotta acknowledge the disillusionment that he's experiencing
OH DEPENDING ON UR CHOICE, IF U AGREE WITH SKULLY THAT YES JACK'S PUTTING A LOT OF THOUGHT INTO THE HALLOWEEN PREP, HE'S GONNA BE LIKE "yes yes!! u see it too!!" AND THEN HE KISSES UR HAND like maaaaaaan THIRD KISS IN THE EVENT UWEEEHHHHHHHHH i feel so loved 😩😩😩
anyway you, skully, leona, jack, jade, and azul meet. we get more details about skully's way of celebrating halloween, he shares that he spends halloween alone, but jack's like nono! halloween is something we should spend with everyone! and this is probably skully's last straw because he ends up shocked and asks to leave, saying he'll help out lock, shock, and barrel
oh girl bye it's about to start
now music group's gotta compose AND WELL. FINALLY I GET CONFIRMATION ON THE COMPOSITION SKILLS OF AZUL (and jade). BOTH OF THEM DONT KNOW HOW TO COMPOSE....
leona's like lmao dont merfolk love singing or some shit, aND THIS ACTUALLY GETS AZUL PRETTY UPSET. Azul's like, hey not all merfolk like music or have an inclination to it! How prejudiced of u leona, and meanwhile jade's like well he's Not wrong idk any mer who dislikes music. dang did azul actually have a thing about not being skilled at music before???? or does he actually care more about his people than he lets on? both maybe?? that's so sweet tho
anyway they manage to shift the conversation to making fun of leona for not being good at singing HFSKJDHFSDKFHS octavinelle bitches i love u to the ends of the earth
top moments from this event definitely includes jade going "aw azul he's probably tone deaf" and azul dramatically gasping and going "jade how can u be so blunt?!?!?!?"
leona ends up singing the coconut song from his homeland (the one zazu sings to scar when he's caged) to show that yea he Can sing. AND AZUL AND JADE FOLLOWNSKNGSDNFNLKSDNFADNFNLNFSDF FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKK WHY IS THIS EVENT NOT VOICED,,,.,. AZUL, JADE, AND LEONA SINGING THE COCONUT SONG TOGETHERR.
LORE DROP: the song is also rly popular in the coral sea, as in they learn it when they're really young. and leona's like well it makes sense, the sunset savannah faces the sea, so trade between us and the coral sea is very likely to happen. WORLDBUILDING MY LOVE
HAHAHHAAHHA AZUL IS LIKE "wow leona ur so good at singing, u should sing for the mostro lounge" AND LEONA'S LIKE "yeah and my payment should be u guys fighting against us in magift" AND THE WAY AZUL AND JADE WENT OK NEVERMIND HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AND AZUL'S PANICKED FACE IS SO FUNNY GET REKT AZUL LMAOOOOOOO
anyway we go to the trey, jamil, riddle, and idia group AND THIS IS A FUNNY ASS GROUP TOO
POOR IDIA GETS SCOLDED BY TREY BC THEY ASKED IDIA WHAT HE EATS AND IDIA MENTIONS HE BASICALLY EATS JUNK FOOD AND TREY'S LIKE UR NOT TAKING CARE OF UR JAW!!! UR JAW'S GONNA BE WEAK!!!!! AND UR TEETH!!!! OH MY GODDDDD
riddle mentions he eats the daily special in the cafeteria bc he can calculate the amount of nutrients that he gets. dang that's some habit to get from his mom, i really hope he's getting his fill this time :')) at least get some more protein riddle
trey was so close to being screwed bc he says he rly loves the hamburger steaks in the cafeteria and they're so good he could eat them every day. but then riddle gets mad because there is a queen of hearts rule banning hamburger steaks on tuesdays AND TREY HAS TO CLARIFY NO I DIDNT ACTUALLY EAT IT
jamil meanwhile mentions he rarely eats at the cafeteria cause he makes food for kalim anyway so might as well make his meals. honestly real and good for him.
AWWW SALLY WANTS TO MAKE FOOD FOR JACK AND JAMIL GIVES HER ADVICE well that backfired on him cause now she wants him to taste test her soup BYEEEE
AND JAMIL DOES THE SAME THING MOVIE SALLY DID WITH FINKLESTEIN he uses the spoon with holes, pretends to like it (which shocked EVERYONE AT FIRST) and then he tells the others fuck no yall i didn't taste it, it looks rancid af (and honestly smart move jamil bc there is a nonzero chance that the soup contains deadly nightshade in case sally wanted to poison dr finklestein, and if not deadly nightshade, frog's breath would be terrible to deal with)
anyway moving on to the vil, malleus, sebek, and epel group!! ok this group is so cute cause the two first years are together, and their senpais are with them!!
WE GET A LOT OF LORE HERE OMG so they used to dye cloth with plants in lilia's house because they got,,, three colored sauce,,, on the curtains. malleus offered to buy new curtains but lilia said no. me too vil and epel, idk what three colored sauce is. ik it's a reference to the three fairies BUT HOW DO U GET THREE COLORED SAUCE LILIA PLS I HOPE IT'S THREE SAUCES IN DIFFERENT COLORS NOT ONE SAUCE IN THREE COLORS
finklestein mentions oh we have witches here too u know! and vil's like omg they must be beautiful like me
if u watched nightmare before christmas before this scene, you KNOW this is the start of the punchline. unfortunately, i did not have the pleasure of watching nbc before this so i did not get to enjoy the joke BUT I DO NOW
so the witches come in and OF COURSE VIL'S FUCKING HORRIFIED THAT THEY'RE UGLY AS SHIT. AND THE CHERRY ON TOP IS SEBEK BEING LIKE "ohhh this is a punchline" HAHAHHADKABSJDBJS
BLESS THIS UPDATE BECAUSE THE LORE DROP HAS BEEN SO GOOD THIS WEEK we get broom lore in which not every broom can be used for flight. the ones in school are standardized to be good for flight. i feel like i've heard the first part in another place, probably a book or so, but the second one is new
anyway after all that prep that everyone does, skully's asking lock, shock, and barrel 😨😨😨 THEY ALSO MENTION BOSS. SO OOGIE BOOGIE EP4???? PLS?????? ESP KNOWING THAT SKULLY AND OOGIE HAVE A LOT OF SIMILARITIES TO EACH OTHER SO LIKE MMM MM MMMM M
zero is soooo cute :')) he liked leona, and he found the smell of tea on jamil rly nice too
ZERO SNIFFED THE SUS ON TREY AND JADE AHAGAGAHAAHSFDHGHFHGC RIP TO THEMMM tho lowkey treyjade won too bc hey :) trey said he never got to own a dog cause his home (a bakery) couldnt have one. jade finds dogs adorable. treyjade could 100% have a dog in their house
riddle and idia were criticizing how they approached zero LMAOOOOO AND IDIA EVEN SAID HE WATCHED VIDEOS OF APPROACHING DOGS. WELL CLEARLY THOSE VIDS WORKED W HOW ZERO RAN AWAY FROM U IDIA.
SALLY ACTUALLY GOT TO GIVE JACK THE LUNCH SHE MADE HIM 😭😭😭 im so happy for her honestly, esp cause in the movie, she snuck it to him :")) but here, she gives it. well, she still sneaks it BUT SHE DOESNT HAVE TO JUMP OUT THE WINDOW AND MAKE A PULLEY SYSTEM TO HAND IT TO HIM!! bless jamil for helping her too
AZUL PLS "id love to help sally out" whats w u and ppl in love, huh, azul 🤨
oh hello 3-19 whats gonna hap-
🧍‍♀️
chat he's lost it
CHAT HE'S KINDA HOT WHEN HE LOSES IT.
SHFCJGCJGVGHVHJ SKULLY CONFIRMING JACK'S VIEWS ON HALLOWEEN AND THEN HE. PUTS JACK TO SLEEP. WITH A DRINK. BRO PUT DEADLY NIGHTSHADE IN THAT.
AND SKULLY REPEATING HIS MONOLOGUE IN THE PROLOGUE. AND HIM GOING "ahh jack-sama pls dont worry, ill protect the true halloween, even from u jack" girl everyone smelled the yandere. have u seen jp twitter/bluesky? the yandere is BAD
and it's hot on him. good god
AND THEN OH GOD WE COME IN CAUSE GRIM WANTED TO EAT JACK'S FOOD BUT WE FOUND SKULLY
AND SKULLY TURNS GRIM INTO A PUMPKIN THINKING THAT GRIM CAUGHT HIM. NO SKULLY U JUST OUTED URSELF, GRIM'S STUPID AS FUCK
oh god i got dizzy w this last part YUU HAD THE CHOICE TO SAY "why are you doing this" OR "we won't tell anyone". AND IF U CHOOSE THE SECOND OPTION, SKULLYYYYY GOES OH REALLY?? we're kindred spirits indeed we were fated to meet
girl i fell off a cliff. i drowned even. passed away.
GIRL I ATE ROCKS. WTF. I SWEAR. THE WAY SKULLY TALKS TO US FR LIKE WHAT IM BEING SWEPT OFF MY FEET HERE EVEN IF HE'S GOT SOME SCREWS LOOSE
ANDDDDDD HE TAKES US AWAY.
HAH HAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA................
YALL HAVE NNNNNNNNNNO IDEA HOW INSANE I WENT ON MY IG 💀💀💀 literally i had a status that said "OMG YALL MY POOKIE KIDNAPPED ME 🥰🥰🥰" and now my irls are scared. they think i have stockholm's now.
honestly i just love the skullyuu dynamic too, like they're just two ppl who are lonely in their own ways. while skully would talk to everyone as much as possible, he rly talks to yuu.
delusionally, i like to think yuu saying i won't tell anyone is them not being scared but understanding skully too. like, they cant blame him for losing his shit
alot of ppl are also thinking omg skully overblot might happen. and i wanna yell NOOOOOOOOOO to that. on one hand, everyone said the same thing abt rollo and well, he didnt. BUT ON THE OTHER HAND, SKULLY LACKS SLEEP, AND THE NARRATIVE REMINDS US TWICE ABOUT THAT. WE DONT KNOW IF HE EVEN ATE FOOD. AND HIS MAGIC IS EMPHASIZED TO BE ADVANCED. AND HE DOESNT HAVE A MAGICAL PEN AND WE DONT KNOW IF HE EVEN HAS A CRYSTAL. THE MAGIC'S GOING TO HIS BODY. AND THE WORST PART IS THAT ALL 7 OVERBLOTTERS ARE IN THE EVENT. THAT CANT BE A COINCIDENCE. FUCK'S SAKE, ONE OF THEM WORKS IN STYX. THE ONLY ARGUMENT AGAINST SKULLY NOT OVERBLOTTING IS THAT HE MIGHT NOT HAVE ENOUGH MANA FOR IT CAUSE HE HAS EPEL'S MAGIC LEVEL. BUT STILLLLLLLLLLLLLLL cries
but also having all 7 overblotters may mean that twst wants to hint to us that this event could foreshadow a future arc where we meet the great seven and explore the disillusionment they may face. i'll dedicate a longer post to that though. but im excited for it
i do hope that in ep4 and 5, ppl realize that there is merit to skully's ideas of halloween. in the movie, jack skellington realizes that maybe doing christmas just doesn't suit him and sally was right. and at the end, santa gives halloween town a taste of snow. i'd like to see a merge of the ideas of nrc boys and skully's. at the same time, i hope skully realizes too that halloween can be celebrated with everyone, and in fact, it's more fun that way :'))) i want all of them to learn from each other. i want skully to be happy.
anyway i eat this event. it genuinely made me go back to playing twst as actively as i used to (never mind the fact that i put irl responsibilities to the backburner until urgent-), and im so excited for the last 2 updates 😋😋😋😋 i may also post a few more things about this event before the update on monday because god, my brainworms are terrible
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water-to-drink · 28 days ago
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Be a Gladiolus in a Field of Belladonnas pt15
Into the Secret Archives
(Summary): After her meeting with the archons, Nahida decides to do some further research into the mysterious brooch found in the Akademiya’s secret archives, while you and company get ready to depart from the comfort of Dawn Winery
Part 1 Last Part Next Part
✧ Masterlist ✧
(Characters): Nahida, traveler!Lumine, abyss prince!Aether, Paimon, Childe, Diluc, & Kaeya
(Tags/Warnings): Men being petty, possible inaccurate character lore, use of (y/n), (if I missed anything lmk)
(Word Count): 1.3k
(A/n): Sorry if this might read a bit awkward, I’m a bit rusty with writting
Italics = book excerpts
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A mess of scrolls, tablets, and books litter the floor of the basement of the Akademiya, a room that the attending students nor most of the faculty doesn’t know about its existence
There the dendro archon sits on the floor reading every document she can find pertaining to the life of the creator; sleep threatens to overtake her for she has been at this for hours but she is determined to at least find something that could aid her and the other archons
Her small hands rubbing the weariness from her eyes she picked up another scroll and began to read it, the document seemed to be useless like the previous ones until her eyes came upon an interesting sentence
“I once saw the creator with a chest pin during their battle with the adversary from another land.”
All tiredness left the little archon’s body. The brooch was seen by at least someone and “adversary from another land?” could this person be talking about a descender? If that’s the case then why would a descender come to Teyvat to fight their Grace?
She looked to see who wrote this manuscript, John Dee. She heard that name before, quickly skimming through the scrolls, tablets, and books she found the researcher’s name. An astrologer, alchemist, and occultist from over 4000 years ago. With newfound vigor Nahida thoroughly read the each of his manuscripts he wrote throughout his life and found that the brooch fascinated him
“Could this chest pin have gave their Holiness their power?”
“During the battle I saw 4 stones in the chest pin, one was yellow, the other was purple, the third was red, and the last one was white. They all shine with a brilliance that no precious stone on Teyvat could.”
“Perhaps the pin could be a way for their Holiness to connect to Teyvat? Or maybe the gods to be connected to humans?”
“Upon further reflection the chest pin could be a source of their powers.”
“The brooch could be a source of their Grace’s powers?” Mumbled the little archon
That can’t be, can it… the all powerful creator needing to rely on external power and not having it within them?
Picking up another book by the same man Nahida quickly read through the pages until she stopped at an interesting excerpt
“Oceanids are known to segment themselves into mimics. Perhaps the same could be said with their Holiness, segementing themselves into 4 different beings?”
Thinking back on her first encounter with the brooch, the small god did feel 4 different auras but they felt similar to each other, all felt similar to your presence whenever you would use her as a vessel
Whatever the case may be, all that Nahida knows is that once the gems are put into the brooch many answers will be revealed
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On the other side of Teyvat there you are letting Aether write a letter for the Tsarita and her Harbingers
“My sword training have been going well, I’ve been told that I’m making excellent progress. Also thanks to the Cavalry Captain and the twins they have helped me in controlling my cryo powers, however they still need a lot more work. The ship heading to Fontaine is coming soon so I and the others will have to get ready to depart. Sincerely yours, (Y/n).” You finished
Aether puts the pen down on to the desk and you opened the window and called for a bird. After a few exchanges the bird took the rolled up letter and flew off into the horizon. After you closed the window and drew back the curtains you turned towards the blond
“Your Grace, the spell that I put on you is about to wear off.”
It took you a couple of moments to remember the spell that hides your divine presence from anyone and especially your doppelgänger, you didn’t realize how long it has been and to be honest really impressed at the duration of the spell
“Okay, do what you need to do.” You said standing in front of the prince
Aether’s hand began to glow in the deep blues and purples of the abyss, he brought his hand to your head and instantly you feel something covering your entire body in manner similar to a blanket. After Aether brought his hand down from your head you looked at your hand to see the cool colors slowly fade away, you turned towards the twin
“How long does this spell last?” You asked
“It only lasts for a about a couple of weeks, I would saw at most 3 weeks.” Aether replied
“Is there a way for me to learn the spell so I don’t have to bother you every time the spell is about to wear off.”
“Oh, you can never bother me, your Grace. And I like doing it for you.” You saw a subtle blush creep on the young prince’s features
He’s so babygirl!
You almost hugged him but was stopped when your attention was diverted towards the door opening. There you see Diluc in the doorframe
“Your Grace, the ship is almost here. Let’s get you settled in your crates.”
You and Aether followed the redhead down to the cellar, there you see Lumine, Paimon, Childe, and Kaeya waiting for you. You also see 4 crates, all have cushioning. Diluc leads you to one that has the most padding
“Here is your crate, your Grace.” Diluc lead you to a crate that had a lot of cushioning
“Hey, why does my crate have less padding than theirs?” Childe asked leaning in to take a look at his crate which does have a lot less padding compared to yours even less than the twins
“I ran out of padding, Harbinger.” Diluc hissed out
“Diluc, don’t be like that!” You scolded the redhead before turning towards the ginger. “My crate has a lot of padding, I’ll give you some of mine.” You said, but before you can take some of the cushioning out you hear Diluc clear his throat
“I just remembered there might be some more upstairs!” Diluc urged before he went up the steps
You heard Kaeya chuckle and you turned your head towards the Cavalry Captain
“Sorry about my brother, he has a rocky history with your organization.” He opened his good eye and looked at the harbinger. “I don’t blame him, considering what happened with-”
“Kaeya!” You warned the blue haired man. “I don’t have to tell you to be civil with each other!”
Kaeya raised up his hands in defeat. “I understand, your Grace.”
Diluc finally comes down with cushioning that doesn’t look has pristine as the cushions in yours and the twins crates
“Good the both of you are here. So I don’t have to repeat myself, we all have a common goal in defeating the imposter. If we bicker about past grievances we will get nowhere and worse my doppelgänger might get their hands on me.” You advised
“You’re right, your Grace. I will do my best to be as civil with these people.” Diluc said, his disgust evident on his face, but you take what you can
You look at Kaeya to see him nodding in agreement with his brother
“Bwah, it’s so scary that their Grace can be super intimidating on a whim.” Paimon said as she hid behind Lumine
“I don’t mean to scary, I just don’t want infighting!”
“Their Grace is right, we all have an enemy that has all of Teyvat and the archons under their control. If we lose focus then we risk the possibility of that imposter capturing their Grace again!” Lumine said as she crossed her arms
Childe walks towards his crate before turning towards Diluc. “If you’re still raw about what happened, we can fight after all this blows over.” Childe said and then he entered his crate with the new cushioning in it
You and the twins enter your crates and you watch as Diluc secured the top to your crate, leaving you in total darkness
“Safe travels your Grace.” Diluc said
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Taglist:
@chuuya-brainrot @creation-magician @tartarsaucechi1de @vvyeislazzy @aludicpoet @undecidingfate @annoying-mary @randomnatics @bore2808 @esthelily @yurivision @angelamelamela @chocolatekuns @ghost-mint @mmmhyperfixation @legendaryexperthideout @lapinaenmicoche @sinsdumbdrabble @rebeccawinters @imyme20 @nymphsdomain @sun7lowxr @blackcoffex @itz-luna @flowerpesky @land-of-eternity @deathcvltcivilofficial @d4y-dr3am3r @yuriclouds @artwitch @mercy-not-merci @xyaxyn @starxvs @dreamoffireflies06 @desirabletravel @bidisasterforevermore @dxprived4-starboys @angstylittleb1tch @lhaol
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k-nayee · 9 months ago
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Wife to the Winds Epic: The Musical | i
wc: 1.7k a/n: currently obsessed with anything Ancient Greek right now - ESPECIALLY Epic lol. it technically picks up after the song, but if ya wanna here's the animation to it!
Traveler M.List
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ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ
You felt nauseas, sick with fear as you cautiously made your way through the stone corridors.
Distant clash of swords and muffled shouts of Greek soldiers rummaging the palace heightened your urgency. 
With every turn, the looming threat grows: facing an enemy and their weapon stained with the blood of those you've grown to know.
"Lord Apollo...Please...let me be there in time..."you prayed silently, the image of Astyanax's sleeping face urging you forward.
Thoughts racing almost as fast as your feet, you nearly miss a group of men around the corner.
"Imagine the glory we'll have after this!"
Too caught up in conversation, they miss the sight of you slipping into a dark alcove.
"Praise? Forget that! I'm claiming the prettiest whore out of the bunch. You seen all we captured? Deserve some softness after all this."
Hidden in the shadows you're able to take in the blood splatters and dirt on their passing frames.
"You got that right! One thing I'll admit about Troy, they have some nice women..."
You shiver at their crude remarks and wait until their laughter fades into the distance before moving once more.
After a few more dodges and turns, you find the narrow passage and squeeze through.
There, you travel the secret route you'd discovered months ago having spent years exploring every hidden nook and cranny.
The weight of the glass feeding bottle in your hand is a constant reminder of the innocence you're desperate to protect, even as the world around you crumbled. 'I'm on my way Astyanax...'
Inside the walls with only the sound of your heartbeat and the distant chaos; a haunting, pain-filled voice echoes through the air as you near the babe's chamber.
"...I'm just...a man..."
Compelled by the unexpected softness, you peek through a sliver of space at the ornately disguised door (its decorations masterfully concealing its true nature).
There, at the balcony, you're met with the view of Odysseus. And in his hands he drops—
Your heart stops.
No, it shatters.
The baby prince, your charge, your little Astyanax, is...
A heart-wrenching gasp escape your lips, the forgotten milk bottle slipping from your hands to shatter against the stone floor.
Odysseus's head snaps around.
The warrior within him awakened instantly, his eyes narrowing and scanning the shadows.
"Who's there?" he demands, voice sharp and commanding as it sliced through the quiet.
Hand already on the hilt of his dagger, he draws it with a sound that promised death and begins the search.
His feet echoes on the stone floor, each step feeling like a countdown to your end.
The air around you thickens with tension, you struggle to breath against the fear that threatens to overwhelm you.
In hopes of blending in the shadows you press your back harder against the cool wall.
'Be still...Be silent,' you chant even as your heart frantically beat against your ribcage.
Not even daring to breathe too loudly: your inhales and exhales are measured and deliberate despite the panic clawing at your throat.
Memories of Lady Andromache's warnings swirled through your mind—of men turned monsters in the heat of battle, their souls stained with the bloodlust of war.
"The taste of blood...changes a man." Dark brown eyes, somber and knowing, stare into your own. "Leaves him with a hunger for violence that's never fully sated..."
Her words, a distant and cautionary tale you never understood, now rang with terrifying clarity.
With Odysseus so close, the fear becomes so palpable it wraps around you.
Your eyes clamp shut when his footsteps nears, a feeble attempt to shield yourself from the impending horror.
Tears cascade silently down your cheeks in hot paths. There, you mourn not just for the young prince but for yourself and what may come of you.
Suddenly, the footsteps began to fade, leaving a silence so profound it feels like a scream in the void.
Minutes pass, each second an eternity spent in the clutches of fear. Then, there's a sound: the door closing—it cuts sharply through the stillness.
He left...
Relief washes over you, albeit tinged with the sorrow and shock of witnessing your charge's murder.
You wait. Counting each breath, allowing the minutes to stretch until it feels an eternity has passed.
No sound follows, no sign of his presence remains.
Emboldened by the silence and finally convinced, you allow yourself to move.
With cautious steps you emerge from your hiding spot and move toward the center of the room.
The need to escape, to distance yourself from this nightmare of death and close calls pushes you forward.
It's a relief short-lived.
Realizing the silence was a trick, it's already too late: arms encircle you.
The cold kiss of his dagger at your throat shatters any illusion of safety.
His body is pressed against your back, a wall of muscle and tension. You're acutely aware of him—the heat of his breath, the controlled movements, the slight shift as he adjusts his grip on the knife.
Your breath hitches from the terror and despair mingling in your throat, choking you.
"Not a sound," Odysseus whispers, his voice a lethal calm that contrasts the violent actions. "Now tell me: who are you?"
For a moment, neither of you moved.
Your life...choices...everything you had or could have depended on the mercy of the man who had just taken a child from the world.
Fear wars with desperation in your heart. 'Please...let this not be my end. I have so much left to live for...'
"P—please..." you stammer, the words barely escaping your lips. "I won't tell anyone, I swear it. Just let me go..."
"I said," he ignores your pleads, choosing to press the dagger closer for emphasis, "who are you?"
In a flash of desperation and unexpected courage, you act.
With a swift, practiced move born from hours of watching the palace guards train, you suddenly shift your weight.
Pivoting on your heel you wrench his arm away from your throat and use the momentum to twist his wrist; forcing him to drop and send the dagger clattering to the ground.
You jump back, chest heaving with exertion and the shock of your own audacity. You lock eyes with Odysseus who stares at you in stunned silence.
For a moment, he is visibly taken aback; eyes widening not just at the loss of his weapon but at the sight of you.
"By the Gods..." he murmurs, the edge of his battle-hardened demeanor softening as he truly sees you for the first time.
The fire of the torches cast a soft glow on your brown skin, making the stone of the palace around you seem even more dull.
Your hair is nothing he had seen before. There amidst the curls that frame your face, lays a bold streak of white that runs into the mass of hair.
However, it's your eyes that truly captivate him—they glimmer with an intensity of deep grief yet unwavering determination.
For a fleeting moment, the fierceness in his eyes dims as a cascade of thoughts sweep through.
Odysseus, a man who faced gods and monsters...
...a man who has navigated the treacherous whims of fate...
...finds himself lost in the mere mortal beauty before him.
In another life, he might have allowed himself to be drawn in; to explore your being and the depths of those violet eyes. 
The fantasy flickers through his mind of what could have been, momentary indulgence if you will.
Yet, as quickly as it arrived, it is quelled by his love and loyalty for Penelope. The memory of her steadfastness and unwavering faith in his return casts a shadow over any fleeting desire he might feel.
Taking advantage of his internal conflict, you find your voice and interject. "W-wait! I mean no harm nor am I an enemy! I was just trying to survive."
Curiosity piqued, Odysseus gestures for you to continue.
"I come from land that's oceans away, taken against my will. Here, I became a servant for Lady Andromache out of exotic curiosity," Your voice steadies as you speak, gaining strength from the truth of your words. "But then my purpose evolved and I became the caretaker for the prince—a child now dead, through no fault of my own."
The Greek king could only narrow his eyes at you in assessment, voice regaining some of its earlier edge. "And why should I spare you? You are, after all, of Troy."
"Not by choice!" you counter quickly, the words tumbling out, "I am no citizen of Troy, bound by loyalty nor blood. My life here was never of my choosing. My only wish is to live a life beyond wars, serving as a pawn in the games of Gods and Kings."
A smile wry of acknowledgment touches Odysseus' lips.
"You're clever," he admits as the tension in the room shifts, becoming less hostile.
"But why should I trust you?" he probes further, bending down to retrieve his dagger yet making no move to use it. "You, who managed to disarm me?"
Your gaze held a weariness it almost felt bone-deep,, "I have nothing left. The same ambush that brought me here as a servant...massacred my family. The only wish I have now is to live a life of medicine, as my mother was and hers before her. My hands are meant for healing, not for war. Let me serve in your kingdom, and I promise, my loyalty will be yours."
Silence hangs between you two, thick with possibilities.
Then, slowly, a smile begins to form on Odysseus's lips; the first genuine smile he's probably shown in years.
"A barter, then. You propose your freedom for my journey home?"
"Yes!" your voice is firmer now, pushed by his response. "I have skills, knowledge that can aid you. Take me with you, and I swear to devote myself in ensuring your safe return to Ithaca without further misfortune."
Odysseus studies you for a long moment, weighing your words and the sincerity in your eyes. "You truly believe you can ensure my safe passage home? After everything?"
You keeping eye contact with him, the intensity of your gaze unwavering. "With all my heart..."
The quiet that follows is heavy with contemplation, with the unspoken thoughts that flicker behind his eyes.
Finally, he nods, a decision made.
"Very well. But know this," he adds, his tone leaving no room for doubt, "any betrayal, and it will be the last thing you do."
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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 2 months ago
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The Silver Dragon (17)
The Legend of Gahaelon and Aeremys
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After being reunited after so long, Aemond has one request of Arianwyn: to read him a story.
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x OC (Daemon and Rhea's daughter)
Warnings: none
Series Masterlist - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter
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Arianwyn could have spent the rest of her life with her face pressed against Aemond’s cheek, savoring the feeling of his strong arms around her and inhaling his familiar scent of parchment and steel – now laced with brimstone. But the commotion from the Velaryon arrival was fading, and she knew the crowd’s attention would soon be drawn to the prince openly embracing a young lady in a way that was not entirely proper. She opened her eyes and pulled away from him. Still, he did not break contact, keeping his arms firmly around her waist.
As expected, those in the training yard and on the ramparts were staring at them—knights, courtiers, servants… and her stepbrothers.
Luke still cowered behind his brother, fearful now that the uncle he mutilated had become such a fierce warrior. Jace was far less intimidated. His stare was filled with the promise of retribution, and Arianwyn knew that as soon as he had the chance, he would report everything he had seen to Daemon.
Desperate to escape those dark, prying eyes, Arianwyn shyly looked back up at Aemond. “Do you need to return to your training?” she asked, “I believe Ser Criston is waiting for you.”
For a moment, she thought Aemond would not respond. He just stood there, looking at her as if she were some mythical being. Like he wasn’t entirely convinced she was real. “No,” he said, his voice low and soft, a rich sound that seemed to rumble through Arianwyn’s chest like thunder through the sky. “I have been here since dawn; I am long overdue for a break.”
With that, he took her hand and surged up the stairs, pulling her with him into the passageways of the Red Keep. Arianwyn was so delighted to be with him again, her jubilant laughter echoing off the stone walls, that she did not realize where he was leading her until they came to the door.
Her door.
She released her hand from Aemond’s and laid it on the dark wood. “Why have you brought me here?” she asked, tracing the runes they had carved into the door years ago to ward off monsters and spirits.
Aemond was nearly silent beside her, but she felt his presence as if it were the air she breathed. A heavy but welcome weight upon her heart – a perfect embrace. “They are your rooms. I thought you would be eager to see them again.”
She turned back to him and could not suppress her smile. After all these years, they were together again. They stood before the rooms in which they spent half of their youth. It felt like it was meant to be. As if they were always fated to be here again.
“Surely they belong to someone else now,” she said. “It has been eight years.”
A subtle smile spread across his lips, not the broad, toothy grin she remembered as he reached around her to open the door. Then, he stepped back and motioned for her to enter. She did so hesitantly, half-expecting them to be walking in on some stranger’s afternoon tea.
They did not.
Her solar looked precisely as she remembered it.
The same furniture, the same curtains and tapestries. Her old cloak, made of thick brown wool and lined with bear fur, was still draped over her favorite reading chair. Two ancient bronze swords, their fullers engraved with Runes, still hung above the fireplace. Hanging from their handles, tied with faded green ribbon, were scraps of parchment bearing Aemond’s writing – the translation of the Runes they had written years ago.
Arianwyn approached the mantle, reaching out to read the note written in Aemond’s youthful scrawl. The paper was brittle with age, but the ink had not faded. When she tied them on so many years ago, she had not realized that he had drawn a figure, whom she could only assume was the prince himself, wielding the blades as he defended a long-haired maiden from some shapeless beast.
“How?” she asked, unable to tear herself from the artwork.
Aemond came to her side, the space between them sizzling like air broken by dragonfire. “Ser Gerold wanted to empty it and bring everything back to Runestone after he and Lady Arryn failed to secure your release. I would not allow it,” he murmured. “Though he and mother lost hope after that, I knew that eventually, you would return to me… and to all of us.”
She, at last, looked away from the note but remained with her back to Aemond as she stared into the long-cold ashes in the fireplace. “I came close to losing hope as well.” So many times throughout those years, she would fall into loneliness and despair, and not even Brynna or Ser Adrew could draw her out. “I would have, were it not for your letters.”
Knowing that he was still out there, that he still thought of her each day and cared enough to send long, thoughtful letters even when he was infirm, was like the sun breaking through dark, stormy clouds. Each piece of fine parchment bearing his seal was a lifeline she clung to, each one still resting in a trunk in her tower, just below her favorite window. She would read them so often, not only for the lack of books at Dragonstone but –
“What is that?” As she turned to face him, her eyes were drawn to the far corner of the solar, where her bookshelves had once been. Upon closer inspection, she realized they were still there, only now buried within a massive pile of neatly stacked books so high it nearly reached the ceiling.
“That,” Aemond said, setting his hands on her shoulders and leading her across the room, “is eight years of reading for you to catch up on.”
“You cannot be serious!” Arianwyn let out a barking laugh as she craned her neck to take in the entire pile. It was so tall that she would not be able to reach half the books without assistance from someone taller. She took a step back, coming to rest against Aemond’s chest. “You’ve read all of this since I’ve been gone?”
“I’ve read more,” he replied with a smug smile that she could not see but heard in the lilt of his voice. “These are just those I thought you would like, or wanted to discuss with you, or… what I wanted to hear you read aloud.”
At that, Arianwyn turned to face him, the corner of her mouth quirking/”::: up in a wicked grin. She raised her brows in an expression of mock pity. “Are you still struggling with the big words?”
Aemond did his best to scowl at her, but it quickly faltered and morphed into that new small smile of his. “Not for years, Aria.”
Her laughter faded when he laid a hand on her waist, guiding her backward until she was pressed against the wall of books, and he raised one hand above her head. He was so close – their lips so near to meeting. All she had to do was lift her chin ever so slightly.
But before she could truly consider doing so, Aemond pulled away. He held a small grey book, a ribbon hanging from within. He tugged on it, coaxing it open to the page he had marked. “Some stories require your voice to do them justice.”
Arianwyn glanced down at the book. It was a collection of Valyrian myths, illustrated with lovely gilt illuminations. She did not recognize the title, The Legend of Gahaelon and Aeremys.
“Will you read it to me?” Aemond asked, as reverently as if it were a prayer.
Entranced by the intensity of his gaze, Arianwyn nodded. She slipped past him and walked to the velvet couch where they had often read together. The fabric had faded slightly but was kept clean enough. She sat in her usual place on the right, where she so often laid her head against the armrest while commanding Aemond what to write down.
After a moment spent simply staring at her, Aemond sat in his place on her left.
The air between them – smaller than she had remembered – crackled with something that would only take a single spark to ignite as she opened the book once more. Then, with one more furtive glance at Aemond, Arianwyn began to read:
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“The island of Aethios was one of the greatest jewels of the Valyrian Freehold. The sands of the beaches sparkled as if made from pure gold, the forests lush and green, and the dragons raised on its shores grew large and strong.
This paradise was ruled by the dragonriders of House Cephaeos. Its Lords ruled wisely and justly for hundreds of years, making the island the greatest power in the Narrow Sea. It was even said by some that the Cephaeosi had made a deal with the Merling King to ensure the tides were always in their favor, for no man alive could remember a ship bearing its blue-scaled sails ever meeting a bitter end. 
But so many years of good fortune so easily won often breed weak leaders. At the height of Aethios’ power, its throne fell to Lord Aeravon – whose most demanding trial came when he had to settle a dispute over the ownership of four crab traps. He was a boastful man, certain that the glory and honor won by his ancestors was also his to bear.
One day, Aeravon was feeling particularly prideful and boasted to his court that so great was the might of House Cephaeos that even the smallest of his family’s dragons – a young beast with scales the white of sea foam which his daughter had only just taken to wing – could surely best and devour any of the Merling King’s monsters.
The court fell silent. Surely their Lord would not be so foolish as to provoke the wrath of the Merling King? Aeravon’s advisors begged him to rescind his words, but it was too late.
A great wave, taller than the topless towers of Valyria itself, crashed over the castle, bringing the pale stone roof down upon Aeravon’s court. Then, the Merling King himself stood before Aeravon’s throne.
“Your tongue wags with dangerous words, boy,” the Merling King said, pointing his three-pronged spear at the prideful Lord. “You have no respect for the sea which I command nor for my children who you now insult without shame. For this, you must pay a price equal to the offense. Bring forth the dragon of which you speak, and we shall see how it fares against the youngest of my children.”
The Lord’s daughter, Aeremys, pleaded with her father to beg the forgiveness of the Merling King so he would spare her beloved dragon, but he ignored her desperate cries. He had been issued a challenge in his own castle, and his pride would not let him refuse.
The young dragon was brought to the throne room bound in heavy chains. The pitiful beast trembled in fear along with its rider when the Merling King lifted a clawed hand to summon his child.
The court cried out when one massive webbed foot, the size of a fishing boat, seized the side of the cliffs behind Aeravon’s throne. Another followed, and the blood-red head of the Caetus came into view. It loosed a horrible roar from its mouth, filled with jagged teeth longer than ballista bolts. The ladies of the court fainted as the beast hauled its enormous body over the edge of the cliff, propelling itself towards the castle with startling speed.
All that is, except for Aeremys, who continued to cry out for her poor dragon. As the creature was devoured, chains and all, by the fearsome Caetus, it was said that her wail shattered every piece of glass on the island.
Lord Aeravon looked on with unbridled terror at the dreadful might of even the Merling King’s youngest. His skin paled as white as his hair when the Merling King again pointed his spear at him.
“Foolish man,” the Merling King said. “To think that your feeble beasts could pose a threat to my children. You and your people will suffer for your vanity.”
Even Aeravon cried when the Caetus reached out and grabbed Aeremys, carrying her away from the castle and the island as quickly as it arrived.
“You shall watch as your innocent child is devoured by my waters,” the Merlin King decreed. “Only when your heart is broken, and you cry out to your fickle gods to save you, will I grant you the mercy of death. You. Your family. Your people. Your very island shall fall to my power.”
The ground beneath the island rumbled, and great spouts of water began to spray from the cracks in the throne room tile. But Aeravon was blind to the suffering of his people. All he could see was the stone pillar that had emerged from the sea, where his beloved daughter lay naked and chained, exposed to the roiling storm that had formed around the island.
He cried to the gods, begging them to spare her, begging them to spare him and his people and the island of his ancestors. They did not listen.
Aeremys resigned herself to a painful death, anticipating the sting of salt water in her lungs or the burn of lightning on her skin. But death did not come.
Her eyes, which she had kept tightly closed since the slimy hands of the Caetus closed around her, opened to find the rain falling upon her had ceased. Instead, she beheld the gleaming silver scales of the largest dragon she had ever seen, set aglow by the light of the storm.
Astride the dragon’s back was a fearsome warrior she had met once before. Gahaelon of House Belaerys, The Silver Knight of Valyria, who had flown the entirety of the world atop his steed, Tyvaros. There was no monster he could not slay.
As if it sensed the prowess of the new arrival, the Caetus again emerged from the sea, diving with an open mouth towards Gahaelon and his dragon.
“Dracarys!” Gahaelon shouted, and his dragon obeyed. A great cone of white flame enveloped the monster, boiling the water from its very blood. As the Caetus wailed for its father to save it, Tyvaros charged, allowing Gahaelon to carve it from tooth to tail with his greatsword, Aemandra.
Before the two halves of the beast could fall into the water, Gahaelon leaped from Tyvaros’ back, using the bloodied sword to cleave Aeremys’ chains and set her free. He held her close as he wrapped her in his cloak to hide her nakedness before mounting them both upon Tyvaros.
“Come, let us save your father!”
“No!” Aeremys replied. “He has made his choice. Let him suffer the consequences.” Gahaelon needed no convincing beyond the rage he found in her eyes.
The Merling King watched as the silver dragon flew away from his storm. Though he mourned the loss of the Caetus, he remembered how Aeremys begged her father to apologize and how she cried when her dragon was devoured. He watched as Gahaelon gently kissed the tears from her cheeks with a love the Merling King had not felt in millennia. Such a love deserved mercy, he resolved.
Then, the Merling King unleashed his ultimate wrath on the island of Aethios, reducing it and its people to stones and sand that sunk to the bottom of his sea.”
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Aemond barely heard the story, though he knew Aria read it beautifully. She always did. But as she read, she had shifted closer and closer to him, and he to her. He could focus on little else but the way her head rested on his shoulder, his chin nestled in her hair.
She froze momentarily as if she, too, realized how dangerously close they were. Yet she didn’t pull away.
Emboldened, he slowly moved the arm he had slung over the back of the couch down until his hand was on her waist. She did not hesitate to lean back into his chest. Though his heart raced, and he was sure she could feel it, Aemond felt calmer and more at ease than he had in years.
“I never thanked you for the book of Runes you sent,” Aria whispered as she let the book fall into her lap.
Aemond took her hand, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss. “There is no need to thank me, Aria,” he kept his voice soft, too, as if any noise may shatter the small piece of paradise they found themselves in. “If anything, I should be the one to thank you for the gift you gave me.”
“Do you have it with you?” She looked up at his eyepatch as if she could see what lay beneath.
“I do,” he answered, though he was unsure if he wanted to show her. The last time she had seen what remained of his eye, she had fainted. He did not want her to be as afraid of him as so many were.
But then she looked at him with those perfect silver eyes brimming with fondness and reached with hesitant fingers for the edge of his scar. “Can I see it?”
How could he deny the woman he loved? How could he ever think she could fear him? Keeping one arm around her waist, he reached for the patch.
The moment his fingers touched the leather, the door to the room swung loudly open.
In an instant, Aemond realized how they must look, entangled in each other, alone in an empty room. Suddenly desperate to protect her reputation, he hastily uncoiled his arm from her waist and stood from the couch, leaving Arianwyn dazed by his sudden retreat.
Turning to the door, he was greeted by a smiling Queen Alicent, followed by Helaena and her children.
Perfect timing, he thought wryly as he forced an innocent smile to his face.
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featherandferns · 2 months ago
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pirates : where are they now?
jj maybank x bestfriend!fem!reader
word count: 1.5k.
read pirates | Thank you so so much for 1000 followers!!! Since starting this blog in May of 2023, I have written so many characters and storylines. I get so many lovely anon messages telling me about their favourite universes and wondering what happens next after my fics have ended. So, I thought to celebrate 1000 followers, I’d indulge. Here’s the (current) where are they now for all of my fics so far…
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The route to Pirate’s Cove was as familiar to you as the smell of grass and the taste of orange juice. It was as familiar as the feel of JJ’s hand in yours, fingers intertwined just as your lives had been since you were children. In your spare hand you carry an old blanket and in his, he carries a cooler loaded with snacks and seltzers. The birds chirp from trees and there’s the distant rustling of bushes and shrubs hinting of critters lurking. It’s likely that gators bathe in the watery swamps that you pass by but you seem to have finally outgrown your fear. Maybe that’s just JJ’s effect on you, though. He always makes you feel safe. 
The transition from friends to lovers was only slightly rocky at first as the two of you found your footing. It felt different changing from referring to one another as ‘friend’ to ‘babe’. It felt almost too easy not to turn when the other was changing though. But none of it was weird or bad, just different. The Pogues had taken your relationship easily. You assumed that most saw it coming from a mile away. That’s what your parents said when you filled them in on yours and JJ’s situation. Of course, the conversation with your parents then nicely bled into the always painful ‘safe sex’ talk. 
Now, a year in, you could hardly remember a time when JJ wasn’t your entire world. Can hardly fathom not looking to him as your rock, your shelter and your light. Can hardly comprehend him being your dorky best friend instead of your dorky boyfriend. 
“Alright, I got one,” JJ says, “that time when you convinced John B that girls shed their balls at the age of five.”
You immediately crack up, the memory flashing back to you. As you laugh, you feel JJ squeeze your hand just that slightest bit tighter. Something about it makes your smile grow. 
“Oh my God, the look of pure horror on his face,” you giggle. 
“Swear to God, that’s the most shit-scared I ever seen him,” JJ chuckles, shaking his head at the memory. 
“Don’t know why he was acting like I was about to yank his nuts off him,” you snort. 
JJ groans at the visual. “Great. Now all I can think about is John B’s balls. Thanks.”
“My pleasure,” you tease, sticking your tongue out at him for good measure. 
As the journey of reminiscing comes to a close, the two of you approach Pirate’s Cove. The ivy had grown unruly over the years, creating a type of canopy that led into the opening of the cove. Moss covered rocks and water kissed stones; wildflowers and overgrown shrubs; logs for frogs and toads to bask and layers of leaves for critters to call home. The smell of damp soil and pollinated greenery submerges you in memories. As if sharing a thought, the two of you take a pause and look it all over. It felt like a lifetime since you’d returned to the cove. Things have become busy and, quite frankly, chaotic in life lately. The jovial search for treasure revealed some rather dark corners of John B’s life. Now you were lucky to spend your days not running from one square grouper or another. But here, in Pirate’s Cove, the two of you feel safe from the worries of the world. Safe from JJ’s ever angry father. Safe from the madness that came with searching for the Royal Merchant. 
This is where you beat JJ in countless imaginary sword fight. This is where you shared your first kiss, rosy cheeked and puppy-fat faced. This is where you first introduced John B to the sacred hideaway. This is where you realised that maybe you liked JJ a little more than just a friend. The years pass you by like scenes of a show, and each rerun fills you with a melancholic joy of times been and gone. 
“Rope swing’s still here,” JJ observes, bringing your attention to it. 
You smile. “Yep. Still here.”
He finds a comfortable spot near the water, still dry on land, and dumps the cooler. You follow his lead and lay out the blanket and the two of you settle side by side. It’s second nature to rest your head against his upper chest. It’s second nature for him to slip his fingers into yours atop of the blanket. With his free hand he retrieves two cans, cracks them open, and hands one to you. 
“Well,” he hums, sounding somewhat nervous, “happy anniversary.”
“One year down, smelly,” you muse.
You clink the lip of your can against his and the two of you sip the icy cool beverage, eyes fixated on the babbling creek. As your eyes slip shut, soaking in the moment, you decide this is happiness. This is bliss. This is your sanctuary and if heaven is real, this is where you hope you’ll find yourself. Sacred ground that only yourself, JJ and John B knew of. But even still, John B knew this was your place more than his. He never went alone - never without yourself and JJ. Kiara and Pope were oblivious to the cove. A crossed heart promise is paramount to keep. 
As the day ticks on, you remain resting with your head on JJ’s warm, muscle-tee clad chest, him on his back, both of you drifting between sleep and wake. From time to time, he threads his fingers in your hair and toys. When a thought passes through one of your heads, you share it, and the other usually hums in agreement or acknowledgement. It’s light and easy and comfortable. 
“I’m fucking hot,” JJ announces. 
“Wanna go for a swim?” you wonder, glancing to the water. 
“Fuck yeah,” he agrees, already shifting.
You remove your head from his stomach and the two of you get to your feet. He strips off his shirt and you do the same. Living in Kildare meant living in swimsuits rather than underwear most of the time; it saved the hassle of changing when you inevitably ended up in water. JJ lingers as he waits for you to step out your shorts and the moment you realise, is the moment your childish mind conjures the idea. 
Sighing, you place your hands on your waist and look to the water. You’re happily aware that his attention is on your body. One year into this thing and you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of having JJ look at you like that. 
“It’s probably gonna be cold,” you say. 
“Probably,” JJ agrees. 
“Mhm,” you hum, pretending to have second thoughts. You glance away from the water and check out the cove. “I’m just thinking–”
“Yeah?”
Your grin gives you away, moments before you blurt, “last one there has to clean the truck!”
You take off into a sprint towards the water, hearing JJ’s cussing behind you as he follows. His hands grab at your waist, pulling you back, fighting you away. Through your laughter, you try to squirm out of his hold. It’s no use though: he’s too strong. He picks you up as if you’re a bag of chips and tosses you over his shoulder. You screech and holler and giggle like crazy, gently slapping his back as he crashes into the water. Then you’re unwillingly dunked under the surface. 
You break back to air and shove your wet hair off your face. JJ is lounging in the water, laughing like crazy. You waste no time in lurching yourself at him, battling him down until he’s submerged. He gladly brings you along and under the water, and you feel as if you’re in another world. His hands trace up your arms, onto your shoulders, until one finds purchase on your jawline. You brave opening your eyes and can make out his face through blurry vision, a smile on his sunkissed features, blonde hair fanning out in the water. He guides your lips to his and kisses you until both of you have no choice but to return to the surface for a breath of air. When you do, JJ keeps his hands on your body, coaxing you near to him, not letting you drift apart. His forehead rests against your own. 
“I love you,” JJ quietly says. 
“I love you too,” you return. The words come as easy as air to the lungs. 
“Crossing this line was the best thing we ever did,” he tells you, pulling back far enough to meet your gaze. He tucks a strand of wet hair behind your ears. “Pretty risky move since we could’ve, you know, ruined like nine years of friendship.”
You bite back your laugh and squint jokingly. “Meh, we were never that close anyway.”
Rolling his eyes, JJ pecks your lips. Just as he pulls back, your fingers latch into the tethers of his hair at the back of his neck, keeping him near. 
“Nu-uh, smelly. Better kiss me like you mean it.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice. 
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a-person-whos-alive · 11 months ago
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Why TotK fails Zelda
Heads up, this is a long post. Ive cut this down like a motherfucker but it still reads very long. My thoughts are divided into four main categories;
1. Her relationship with her magic & tech
2. Her relationship with Hyrule
3. Her relationship with Link
4. Her relationship with the player
Also, these are my opinions, I'm certain there are people with far better analysis skills than me! I am just in love with this franchise and a little disappointed with the recent game. Zelda as a character holds a special place in my heart and its sad that her character was done dirty like this.
Theres a TLDR at the end and before I forget, SPOILERS!!!
1. Her relationship with her magic & tech
Zelda is not someone who magic came easily to, and I think BotW & AoC did a great job exploring that. They contrasted her natural interest with the sheikah technology and her lack of power and it was 😘👌
How did TotK do? With the Zonai tech being the main selling point, how would Zelda, a scholar at heart, interact with it? To my memory, the only interaction she has is to put Mineru's soul into a piece of Sheikah tech and hand it to a construct.
Well what about magic? Finding out she has light AND time powers was at first a great throwback to OoT with the Sage of Time. The fact that her Time magic awakened immediately unlike the Light magic in the last game was a nice contrast. But then, she immediately has a similar dilemma, she can't USE her magic to propel herself forward because she doesnt know how. Unlike BotW though, she has the "mother" she was lacking to teach her. This was a decent set-up. It was different enough to be its own thing but still was familiar enough. This is up to memory 4 - Mineru's Council
The issue the NEXT MEMORY, memory 5 - Gerudo Assualt shows her being even more proficient than Sonia. We don't see her train, or struggle, or even ask a question about how the stone works. She just does. It's not until memory 8 do we see her get any guidance about her powers? And even then we don't see her attempt recall at all. In the next memory she simply uses it perfectly and effortlessly.
The purpose of her strengthening Time Magic was to get back home. Yet, she gets back home by swallowing a sacred stone, that she already had the ability to do at any point. She turns into the LIGHT dragon, using her LIGHT magic to strengthen the Master Sword. Her whole arc about her magic was pointless because in the end she used the powers from the previous game for everything important.
2. Her relationship with Hyrule
Positives first! Its clear that Zelda loves her people, and during the 7? year gap she obviously took the time to connect with them and problem solve. Penn's quest really demonstrates this, and so does the Hateno school quest. (Even if the children don't believe in the Calamity). I found it very endearing that the people had such faith in her, that even with Ganondorf causing havoc with her face, people refused to believe it. The Great Fairies MUST have seen wrong because it was dark, Dorephan MUST have been mistaken, the Stable Trotters MUST have seen someone else - Zelda wouldn't do that.
I additionally liked that Zelda wasn't immediately trying to set up a monarchy again. In fact, she seemed to be doing the opposite. She wasn't living in Central Hyrule, at Looking Landing, she was living in Hateno. She was a teacher, and on some level a researcher (even if the Don Dons were scrapped ideas from the first trailer).
But the second she goes to the past, she is put back in her box. Her interests in tech are non-existant, she does not interact with anyone who isn't royalty, the King doesn't listen to her about Ganondorf and tells her to not to worry - after all she's just supposed to wear that white dress and hope her magic works soon. She's regressed back to before the Calamity, waiting for something terrible she knows is coming and is powerless to stop.
Crucially, she doesn't speak to Ganondorf once.
This is by far the most egregious waste of their characters in my opinion, and I've just deleted a 3 paragraph Ganondorf discussion - another time. But come on! This is legitimately the PERFECT scenario for Zelda to find about about WHY people opposed her royal family, WHY everyone she's ever loved died in Calamity caused by this guy, WHY she's had to go through all this. But no, if they did talk, it wasn't on screen.
Ive seen in translations of parts of one of the interviews with a developer saying she was able to see what a ruler should be like by going to the past, but until a see an official source I'm going to hope that's not true
3. Her relationship with Link
"Link is still entrusted with the role of protecting Princess Zelda." - Hidemaro Fujibayashi https://www.npr.org/2023/09/13/1199307678/zelda-tears-of-the-kingdom-dlc-video-game. Maybe I'll write a post about Link sometime, but I'm focusing on just him and Zelda.
Whether you ship the two or not, the pair would obviously have a unique bond from both fighting the Calamity and losing the Champions/everyone. So, how did the pair cope with the destruction of everything the love? How did Zelda come to terms with the ruins of Castle Town, the harsh reality of all those who were dead? Zelda doesn't have Link's amnesia to temporarily soften the inital blow.
TotK explores none of this.
Similarly, there is a level of formality on how Zelda speaks of Link. When she tells Rauru of Link she starts, "He is a royal knight. He had been originally appointed for my protection, but later he became a hero by saving both me and Hyrule from a great evil". Not "he and I became close" or even "he became my friend". Zelda is talking to the two people closest to her right now,
All their interactions are the bare minimum.
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Link has ALWAYS been a self insert for the player, but he's still a character, and more recently Nintendo has been acting like having emotions means a player can't project onto them. Zelda is Link's closest person, and when she returns he is piece of cardboard, at least help her up!
4. Her relationship with the player
First, as everyone who played BotW will know, many things were removed or changed in TotK to allow it to be standalone for new players. Sheikah tech was removed, important characters forgot Link, the majority of the last game was rarely if ever mentioned. Kass
However TotK does not properly establish Link and Zelda for new fans AND doesnt not elaborate for old fans. They interact twice until the end - the intro and memory 1. All of her characterisation is in that little history moment, the rest of it is 50% sacred power lore and 50% time power lore. Additionlly, anyone who is new to the game has no context for her light powers.
Actually, TotK literally retcons her light magic to be from Rauru and not Hylia. Which was the WHOLE POINT of BotW so great sequelling there guys.
TLDR: The Conclusion
Wow, you made it this far. Or you skipped to end, I would too. My main gripes with Zelda:
> She doesn't interact with Zonai Tech.
> Her arc is about learning time power to go home, only for her to not use said magic and instead use the light magic from the last game to fix the sword and be a light dragon.
> Having her worries about Ganondorf shot down by the King and not holding her ground/ insisting (did you learn nothing from Rhoam??)
> never interacting with Ganondorf him being in Hyrule as a diplomat
> nintendos approach to her and link, they dont once touch while both conscious. Not even a handshake or pat on the shoulder. See images above with prev. Zelda and Link.
> the instance on making it not complicated for accessibility to new players, but also not fleshing it out enough to be compelling on its own.
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saintsbuffy · 2 months ago
Text
You’re an angel, i’m a dog.
Pairing: Lucanis/Rook Lucanis/Rook/Spite
TW: injury detail, heavy sexual references, abuse, grief, suicidal idolisation, implied non con, spite being a freak, possession, substances.
Word count: around 5000
Chapter: 2/?
2 - DEVIL LIKE ME
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— Rook is injured, Lucanis tries to help.
Lucanis - Bold
Spite - Italics
We've been waiting for this haven't we.
Spites familiar voice echos in Lucanis's head, the feral creatures nails claw his mind as the shadow figure takes form beside him.
Rook tentatively approaches as Lucanis glances around the room before pulling over a large crate for him to sit on and gesturing for Rook to take the armchair opposite him. Even though the crate is slightly too small for him and a few inches shorter than the chair it manages to hold his weight and leaves him eye level with her.
She's watching him and he moves the equipment to one side, careful to pick up any glass shards as he piles tubes and viles into a corner and stacks the books clearing the space between them. His face remains a mask of ease but she can't help but notice the small bead of sweat that forms at his brow. When was the last time he had hosted a girl in his room? He couldn't remember. Come to think of it, when was the last time Lucanis had hosted anyone in his room?
Lucanis shifts in his seat, crossing and uncrossing his arms. He had always been bad at making small talk but now he felt like he'd forgotten how to speak entirely. After a moment the silence is broken by a low humming noise, some variation of a song his grandmother would sing to him many years ago. The noise fades in and out but Rook dosent react, Lucanis is the only one who can hear it.
Quiet.
The girl is studying he realises. Head cocked to one side she watches how he moves and breathes, her guard his up, her discomfort increasing and yet she dosent make a move to leave.
"So..." Rook rests her arms on the oversized chair, one knee crossed other the other, fingers tapping on the edge. "Are you going to tell me how you did that thing out there." She raises her hand and seems to be trying to project her power but all he sees is empty air.
He had felt her magic approaching of course, the thrum of power had given him plenty of warning. The spell she had encountered had taken almost a decade to perfect, he had spent countless hours working on it with his Cousin. The barrier could be locked to one room and only lasted as long as the creator was present. It was supposed to keep out any magic users that didn't possess the Dellamorte bloodline. Clearly it was faulty if Rook had gotten through. He'd have to ask Illario about that when he next saw him.
"I am not entirely sure." Lucanis takes in the way her eyes waver, she doesn't seem annoyed that the spell had managed to stuff her magic but curious, perhaps slightly hopeful? "I do not use many spells, my specialities lie more in weapons and potions. My cousin helped with this one, you might have seen him around.”
She can see that from the display on his desk to the objects that fill his room and line the shelves, a few swords hanging on rusty nails that stick out of the stone.
"Ah, the handsome one." Rook recalls, as he shoots her an unamused look. "So could you, create a spell or a potion to stop it?"
"Why would you want to stop it?" He queries watching the way her hand goes to a chain around her neck, the small opaque crystal attached to it resting just between her breasts, Lucanis moves his eyes away quickly. His gaze goes back to her face then to the wall behind her as he avoids her eye contact.
He had seen the necklace before but had never gotten a good view of it, in fact he could not recall a time he seen her without it. No bigger than a marble, the edges jagged but dull enough to not cut into her skin. Whatever it was it meant something to her. Another piece of the puzzle.
"I mean, to help control it. Like the way your daggers seem to hold power, I can't have another mission go sideways because of me." A half truth.
He does not have to look her in the eyes to know that's not exactly what she meant.
"Perhaps you should ask Emmrich about that kind of stuff, maybe he could make you some sort of object to hone your energy."
In his time here Lucanis had seen the man do incredible things with his gifts, he had even come to him for help occasionally to identify any objects found whilst out on missions.
"I don't think that would work." Her lips pull into a grimace as she continues to fiddle with the silver chain. "And besides i'm not really sure how to feel about the old man, he frightens me a bit." Rook was both equal parts unsettled and intrigued by the man and his skeletal companion.
Lucanis raises an eyebrow but lets her talk.
"Don't tell him I said that though, you two are friends right?"
She recalls the few times she had watched Lucanis enjoying himself over dinner and drinks, in the library studying whatever it was he was searching for. Out of everyone here the two men seemed to click, both quiet and strange in their own way.
"I do not know him that well." Lucanis does not have friends. He is here to complete his contract and keep his home safe, that’s all.
Misunderstanding his blunt reply as sarcasm, Rook laughs. It's muffled by a hand over her mouth.
His chest tightens, wondering what it would sound like to hear a full true laugh from her. He wanted to find out. There was no question that Rook was attractive. Her elven features mixed the human way she spoke and carried herself made most people find her off putting. She tried to make herself invisible, had spent her first weeks at the Lighthouse brushing off everyone's attempts of inclusion but Lucanis had seen the way she made their companions laugh without even trying, the way her smile lit up a room. She didn't even have to try, he couldn't stand it.
Had the room always felt this small? Of course it had he was sleeping in a dammed storage closet for gods sake.
The desire that coiled low in his stomach was not as easy to ignore now as it was when he'd first laid eyes on her. All it takes is one moment of wanting and a mirror image of Lucanis draped in shadows manifests through the table. The creature contorts and twits its body, limbs cracking into place until it's crouched beside Rook. Lucanis closes his eyes reaching deep inside to sever that tie between man and demon but it's already started to knot. The door a-jar.
Lucanis grits his teeth as Spite inspects her, but the more he tries to shut him out the more the demon takes form. His discomfort and Rook's distraction only seems to make Spite more excited as it moves from side to side head twisting like a starved animal about to feast.
I can see why you're so fascinated by her. Such a pretty little thing.
Spites hand is less than an inch away from caressing Rook's cheek, hand going, lower, lower, until it comes to rest just below where Lucanis can't see under the table. Lucanis lets out a disgruntled cough, clearing his throat then scoots his crate back from table.
Spite's eyes snap up at him, and it lets out a laugh the look of hunger fading into a feline grin.
Leave us. Do. Not. Touch her.
You can't make me.
If you're going to stay, be quiet and behave.
Spite lets out a whine and glares back at him but obeys hands up in surrender as those glowing eyes ablaze. Some days Lucanis could push him out if he really tried. It would take all his strength and then some but each day was different. Recently the active days seemed to be outweighing the quiet ones. It had taken him years to train his mind against the demon, to build up walls and keep the doors locked. But no matter how badly Lucanis wanted him gone he would always let Spite back in.
There was no one without the other, they depended on each-other for survival. He had wasted almost his entire life trying to find a cure for this curse placed upon him and had come to accept the grim fact that if he wanted to live, Spite would be along for the ride.
Fine, fine. She's all yours. I won't touch her...unless she asks us to.
Lucanis stands to his full height kicking back the crate, he moves through the shadow demon purposefully causing the the smoke to separate. As Spite's form reconstructs itself it watches him as he places two china cups onto the table, both different sizes and designs. Rook lets out a small yawn as she waits, utterly unaware of the domestic currently playing out between the demon and the man as she watches Lucanis. There's a clattering of boxes being moved and rearranged then he lights a flame under what appears to be some sort of homemade stove. After a few minutes he returns with a steaming pot and the smell of coffee fills the small room.
Rook holds out her cup for him as he pours out the dark brown liquid until it reaches the top then fills his own. Now that he's closer she can see the black power under his nails, a cluster of tiny white scars standing out in contrast against his tan skin. She wants to ask about the experiment he was doing when she had interrupted him earlier or pry more about her magic but it's late and she's exhausted. Shes beginning to ajust to the dim candle light, the subtle warmth the flames gave off as the occasional gust of cold air moved past her and the presence of the man sitting opposite her.
Sure, it was a bit awkward and she wasn't sure if he was utterly repulsed by her or just had invited her out of civility but Rook had been searching for a distraction from her restless sleep and she had found one. They didn't need to speak, to fill the silence, just being in each others presence was enough. Maybe it was the adrenaline wearing off that had made her feelings intangible but could swear she felt a strange sort of comfort when she was with him.
Instead of voicing the million questions she yearned to have answered Rook leans back in her seat against the worn velvet and lets the cup warm her hands as raises the it in a thanks then takes a sip. It's bitter and warm, not hot enough to burn but the taste leaves an unwelcome flavour on her tongue. The disgusted expression on her face forms because she can stop it. Lucanis is waiting for her reaction.
"What? No milk or sugar?" Rook's voice sounds strained as she gulps down the liquid mid sentence forcing herself to take another sip.
She'd had coffee before, at the training camp it was valued as much as gold. But that had been a watered down version, reheated and shared between large groups, whatever Lucanis had was strong and fresh. Perhaps this was another thing she'd have to adjust to.
The corner of Lucanis's mouth raises, those full lips forming an almost smile as he watches her drink before trying his own.
"I like it black." He states before refilling his cup.
Rook hides another nervous laugh and gives him in a look that says of course you do. She would not make a very good spy he thinks.
She coughs as she reaches the bottom of the cup wiping a hand over her mouth before placing it down and pushing it slightly away from her. A fake smile of gratitude plastered across her face.
"Thanks for the coffee, and the company."
Lucanis's doesn’t seem to register the comment, his gaze entirely focused on the spot just behind where she sits, eyes occasionally flicking to check that she hadn't moved then back again to not so empty space. The humming song starts again.
There an obviously tension between Rook and Lucanis but neither of them quite wants the moment to end. Lucanis had never been very good at making friends, hell, he struggled enough as it was to keep loose acquaintances. But since he would be staying here for the foreseeable future he might as well try to be civil with her. He couldn't leave now, not when he was so close to finding a cure, not when he and his cousin had a chance at freedom, not when this girl was before him could be the key to everything. Regardless of his intentions Rook had played a part in his rescue and he would be indebted to her until the contract was completed.
I think she's starting you like you. Thats a first, should we tell her what we really are?
I thought you were staying quiet.
How can I when I can hear all your thoughts. I wonder what she would say if you told her what you want to do to her-
Spite seems to forget what it was saying as the creature stops mid taunt, turning in a circle sniffing the air its hollow eyes turn from Lucanis to Rook and back again.
Oh, this is going to be fun.
Lucanis's temple is throbbing as he rubs the palm of his hand against it trying to mask the feeling with more questions. If he could keep her talking for long enough maybe he could gain back enough control for Spite to leave them.
"When you have these nightmares, what do you see. Tell me about them."
Straight to the point then. Rook thinks, it would be easy for her to lie about it but she has nothing to lose.
"You want me to help you or not?" Lucanis barks out when Rook doesn't immediately answer. He doesn't mean for his tone to come out like that, cruel and disingenuous. Every step he makes towards Rook feels like another two back into the dark.
"Sorry-" She starts only to be cut off by his raised hand.
"Stop apologising." He shuts her down. "Just start from the beginning, anything you can remember might help us to better understand your...situation. When did they start."
She should be sorry, she was a Mage who had killed tens, if not hundreds of innocent people. Even if she had been following orders, even if it had been an accident, she had killed, no man would ever mourn one less Mage in the world.
You have more blood on your hands than she does.
I take no pleasure in killing, unlike you.
It’s impolite to lie Lucanis. I know you get off on it as much as I do. Oh look you've made her cry…
Spites observation panics him for a moment but when he looks at her there's no tears present. The only evidence of sadness is a fait sheen to her pale eyes, that haunted look he had seen before in the mirror on his own face. Greif.
As Rook recalls her nightmares and the memories that interlinked them she wished, not for the first time that they had left her to die in that rubble. How was it fair that the gods got to pick and choose who gets the power of creation, of life and who gets that of death and destruction. How she longed to be able to bring her friends back from the dead, reach down upon the earth and feel the roots grow.
"I think they must have started when I was a child but I could never remember anything, only waking up to find myself screaming. The night after the first time my magic manifested there was a thunderstorm, I started dreaming about this woman, I can't recall her face but it was like she was glowing in green flame."
Lucanis's focus is wavering as he tries to hang onto each of her words, something about green flames, a wolf, the sound of thunder, demons and the veil. His time is running out. The pain was behind his eyes now, vision blurring as he blinked over and over trying to shut it out.
"Lucanis." Rooks voice brings him back for a moment. "Are you alright?"
Smells like blood.
Get out of my head.
Can't you smell it? Let us taste her, just this once.
I said, GET OUT.
But Spite was right. The metallic tang in the air was undeniable, he could smell it. A shudder of dread snapped him back into reality. He was looking at her how, really looking. Had Rook always looked this pale? Her eyes were hollow, sunken in slightly and ringed with grey. Her lips parted as she paused mid sentence.
"You are bleeding." Lucanis's voice startles her as she has a moment of confusion before the realisation sets in.
She shifts the seat back a few inches looking down at herself before placing her hand to where the black shirt was sticking to her side. When she brings it away her palm is covered with a fresh coating of blood. Her mouth forms a silent 'oh' as she places her hand back against the wet shirt and holds it in place.
Before Lucanis can stop her she stands up swaying slightly using her free hand to steady herself against the table as he rushes to her side, the crate he was sat on lets out a screech against the stone as he flys across the room towards her.
Told you I smelled blood.
"LEAVE US." He doesn't mean for those words to be voiced aloud. Lucanis's voice comes out through gritted teeth, if Rook notices him speaking to the air she doesn't react - too focused on trying not to pass out.
It's not the blood that makes Lucanis feel like he's going to throw up but what comes after. This is how Spite feeds, the demon can't touch her in its usual state but pain, death and bloodshed calls to it the way a holy man might call upon the gods. When in battle the bond between Spite and Lucanis is forged from violence, all it takes is for the first kill to commence and then two become one. Most days the demon can do little more than cause him headaches with taunts and mind games but in battle Spite can take over fully possessing him and using Lucanis's body as a vessel for violence.
He wasn't sure if Rook's injuries would be enough to let Spite in all the way there was no rule book for this kind of thing but he didn't dare send her away. Not when she was in so much pain, not when seeing her in pain caused him so much.
With one arm under hers and the one carefully hooked around her waist so not to touch the wound he guides her to the table and holds up her weight against his own until her legs secure against it, the table is low enough that when he pushes her back slightly she's able to sit on it without much strain.
"Keep pressure on the wound." He leaves her for just a moment hurrying across the room and pouring out something that look like water onto his hands then wiping them clean on his sheets.
Lucanis was not healer but had learnt survival young and patched himself up after many a battle. He had been nine the first time he'd had to fix a dislocated bone, thirteen when he learnt how to stitch his own wounds.
Rook winces as she feels the throbbing pain grow, her skin heating as sweat begins to coat her skin. She has no idea how long it’s been bleeding or when the stitches had ripped. It was as if until she saw the blood there had been no pain and now it felt like she had an arrow in her side all over again.
When Lucanis returns he's holding a pile of clean cloth and a bottle of clear liquid. "I'll need to redress the wound and clean it."
Rook continues to look down at her side fingers now slick with her own blood she acknowledges him with a faint noise that he can’t make out.
"I need you to look at me. I don't think Varric will forgive me if I let you bleed out on my table." That earns a pained laugh. "This is going hurt." He adds.
"Okay." She nods again this time meeting his eye as Lucanis hand holds her chin to look at him. Defiance lives in her eyes but she agrees to let him help her, this is a woman who does not want to be pitied or saved. He knows exactly how that feels.
Lucanis lets her go and pushes his sleeves up further until the material can't go any higher up his biceps. With little effort he rips the cloth into strips and places it onto the table beside her along with the bottle. Slowly, cautiously, he stands infront of her assessing the situation. Rook moves her body slightly so that she's turned half to the side giving him better actress to her and her hand beings to pull up the bottom of her shirt.
"Do you want me to stop, it's not too late. I can wake one of the others-"
"No it's fine." Rook cuts him off. "It really doesn't hurt that much." Her face says otherwise.
It would be easier for him to remove her top completely but the thin material leaves little to imagination, it's clear Rook wears nothing underneath. Instead Lucanis pulls a dagger from his belt and cuts away at the ruined fabric leaving only enough to cover her. The bulk of the bandages are almost completely soaked through. As he unbinds them from her ribs and throws them onto a pile on the floor Rook swears when the wound is exposed to the cold air.
We could have her right now, on this table.
"It's not as bad as I thought, but you're to need to sit still for the next part. Drink this." He holds the bottle up to her lips and lifts it so she can drink, one hand underneath to catch anything that spills.
Rook splutters and coughs as it burns the back of her throat but takes a few gulps as Lucanis lets out a loose a breath.
With the old bandages removed and blood wiped clean he can now see only three out of the eight stitches had torn open, and other than the irritated red skin around the wound there’s no sign of infection.
"That was fucking disgusting. Do me a favour and just keep talking. If I don't pass out from this, I might die if you serve me anymore beverages." Rook states, eyes closed as she lets out a low whimper whilst Lucanis begins to wipe away the blood. “And if I die.” As grits her teeth. “I will come back and fucking haunt you.”
Such dirty words for such a pretty mouth.
Don’t look at her.
Imagine the sweet sounds she would make.
"I'm not very good at talking." Lucanis confesses, undeterred by her empty threats.
He doubts very much that she would want to hear about how he'd spent almost his entire childhood being experimented on in a cage by the only maternal figure he'd never known.
"Oh i've noticed." Her eyes are wide and alert now, pupils dilating. "Seriously say anything, sing a song tell me a story, make something up. Tell me about possessed life, I bet he's here isn't he, the demon, is he here? Is he a he?"
Rook might not have been thinking clearly to start but now she’s racking her brain for everything she learnt about this man so far. Not only was she about to let an almost stranger - at best coworker, operate on her in a storage cupboard she was about to let a man possessed by a demon to do it. Other than overhearing Neve refer to the demon as 'Spite' once she had no idea if that was its name or what it even was.
Did demons even have pronouns?
"It's here, it likes the blood." If Lucanis was trying to comfort her he was failing miserably.
From the corner of his eye Lucanis can see spite crouching beneath the table, its slightly see through finger poking at the small pool of blood on the ground. Despite the finger going through the blood and stone floor Spite puts it into its mouth and pretends to lick the finger clean.
Delicious.
"Great, well there's plenty of that here. Sounds like a charming guy." Rook lets her head fall back and stares up at the ceiling as she waits for Lucanis to fishing threading the needle.
Lucanis bites down on his bottom lip as he finishes threading the needle then sterilises the wound with what smells like alcohol. He dabs at the blood with no warning and she clutches back as it stings sending shivers down her spine that make her want to kick him.
"What does it feel like?" She asks the corners of her eyes glistening but again, no tears fall.
"At first I thought my soul had been split in half. But now, it’s more like having two sets of hands instead of one, eyes in the back of my head. The power is…unimaginable."
He pulls her skin together holding the flesh with a forefinger and thumb as the needle pushes through for the first stitch. Over rooks deep breathing he swears the faint sound of thunder booms overhead.
"I have heard sories of demons that can possess men. The Grey Wardens knew a lot about dark magic. How did you come to be this way? I mean what happened to you. You weren't born like this, were you?" Rook seems to be sitting straighter now, the tonic kicking in and numbing some of the pain.
"That-Is none of your concern."
"Does it hurt?" Rook knows she should probably change subjects from the strain in his voice but when she looks up at him the answer is written all over his face.
"Yes and no." The look of agony is gone in seconds and he's back to concentrating on her wound.
His hair despite being tied back falls over his shoulder as is long enough that she feels it brush against her bare skin. She can feel his warm breath against her torso and the occasional faint tickle of his beard as he gets too close.
"Does it hurt right now?" Rook wonders looking around the room as if she would find a demon spawn hiding in the shadows, but she sees nothing.
"You don't have to worry about me. You are the one bleeding."
The second stitch is though.
"I'm bleeding all over your bedroom and you won't even tell me how you got possessed by a creepy demon, wow." Rook tries to make an exaggerated gasping sound but it's cut short as the third stitch goes though and the wind is knocked out of her. "Fucking ouch."
"You are very dramatic." He was glad she couldn't see his faint smile as he continued to work.
This was good, if she’s was coherent enough to make jokes and swear at him hopefully she wouldn’t pass out anytime soon. Lucanis makes a mental note that Rook often uses humour as cover when she's hurt.
The pain has faded to a dull ache now, Rooks body already starting to feel a bit stronger with each passing moment but her mind is still hazy. She’s trying to stay awake but all she can think about was how wants him to never stop talking. Each word keeps her tethered to this plane. That accent, she could listen to it forever.
“We are almost done.” Lucanis moves closer to her - his large body is almost completely covering hers as he leans so that he can tie the bandages around her back. He stops half way realising he can't quite reach it without the possibility of hurting her. Rook feels his hand lightly touching her shoulder indicating which way she needs to move as she swings her legs back round to give him better access.
Now Rook sits on the other side as he leans over, legs hanging over the table, back facing him. He doesn't mean to stare when he looks down at her exposed back but there's no helping it as his eyes travel from the bottom of her spine to the top of her half ripped shirt and the array of scars that covered almost every inch of skin in between. Some more faded than others, the freshest couldn't have been more than a year old. Each one thin and precise line, this had been no accident, she had either been forced to take a beating or let someone do this to her.
"Arms up." He instructs as she strains lift them with little protest but manages to keep them held in place long enough for him to loop the cloth around.
He begins to tie the fresh bandages around her, one hand laying flat across her ribs to keep them in place. The rough contrast of the tips his fingers brush against the exposed skin above her bandages. Once he's sure the bandages are tight enough he feels himself moving without thinking. Rook doesn't react as a finger traced the outline of a particularly deep bit of scar tissue that falls almost directly in the centre of her spine.
He had seen this kind of torture before, often inflicted on disobedient soldiers or deserters. It was possible to get rid of most scars and wounds with certain kinds of magic, for cosmic or personal reasons he had seen it done more than once. But some were not as easy to remove as others and perhaps she had chosen to keep them as a reminder for what had been done to her. He shouldn’t care, it was none of his business.
He could feel the demonic energy that ran in his veins drumming under his skin as he flexed his hand by his side. He was only human-ish after all.
Who did this to you? He wondered. I will make them beg for my blade. He should have no right to care. He had done that and worse to his own enemies, what made seeing it on her so different? Spite who had had been suspiciously dormant the entire time Rook had her wounds tended to was now flicking in and out of existence behind her. The demon Rook from its crouch by her side and for once the demon had nothing to say.
They were both thinking the same thing.
"These are not from battle." Lucanis states as he pulls the cut up edge of the shirt back down to cover what he can see of her side.
"No, they are not." Rook answers as she moves off the table to stand. Her cheeks have more colour to them now he notices as she refuses his help when she steadies herself. "Thank you, I think i've ruined your night enough. I should get going now."
Lucanis accepts her thanks with a nod not sure what to do now. He wants to ask her to stay. Only so he can keep an eye on her incase the wound gets worse of course. He couldn't exactly offer up his bed, a girl like her deserved to sleep on beds of silks and feathered mattresses.
In his first week at the Lighthouse he had been given a large room in the north wing with a plush four poster bed and a dozen pillows. It had felt like he was suffocating in the comfort of that bed, he had tried removing all the bedding on the second night. Placing the mattress on the floor on the third then welcoming the cool stone against his bare back on the fourth. None of it had worked. He felt like a dog without the comfort of its cage. It had been years since he'd slept on anything more comfortable than a couple of crates pushed together with a blanket over the top. Not that he slept much as it was.
As Lucanis begins to put away his things he can feel eyes on him as Rook stands as if she's waiting for him to say something. "Right, of course." Lucanis clears his throat then grabs something off his bed and passes it to her. "Get some rest if you can, i'm no healer so you should probably get somebody to look at that in the morning if you can."
Rook takes the shirt from him and begins to pull her old ruined one over her head with one hand as Lucanis turns to give her some privacy. He can feel his blood heating as the awareness that she’s half naked in his room sinks in. She places the discarded top on the pile of bloody cloth and bandages and cringes as she takes in the mess around the room. Dried blood on the floor, glass on the table, the door hanging on its hingers. After today she didn't think she would ever be able to face him again.
His cream collared shirt reaches her mid thigh, the size of it looking ridiculous on her. She was shorter than the average elf and even though Lucanis was tall for a human he only had a few inches on her but his build had made the shirt seem least thrice her normal size. When she finishes dressing Lucanis is still facing away from her - arms resting against the table as he tried not to think about what Rook might look like in his shirt. He can hear Spites perverted thoughts begin to pile up in his mind making him want to flip the table and its contents scores the room. Instead he re arranging his work and places the books back onto the table as he finishes cleaning off any trace of blood, any trace of her.
"Goodnight, Rook." Lucanis mumbles.
The way he says it sounds like goodbye. So this was it then.
"Goodnight."
Rook waits a few more seconds to see if he will turn back and then, she’s gone.
end chapter notes -
everyday i learn something new about his family and backstory (thanks twitter)
this chapter was only meant to be 3k long but i ended up writing about 6k and cutting it down a bit, their dynamic is so fun to write. anyone has information, head canons or theories about him pls share id love to hear them!
do we hate grandma or not? (i think we do)
as always @/saintscain on twitter, hope you enjoyed
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shy-urban-hobbit · 7 months ago
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Have some Aiden & Kid!Jaskier interaction!!
"It's you!"
Aiden turned his attention towards where Jaskier was sat by the fire alongside the wolves, the bard's face a strange mixture of disbelief and elation, as was his scent. Aiden crinkled his nose slightly as he fought back the urge to sneeze or cough at the unfamiliar combination being directed at him.
"Yeah, it's me. Happy to see you too?" Aiden ventured, despite the fact that it couldn't have been more than an hour since they'd last seen each other. Aiden had gone back out into the courtyard after dinner to run some drills, despite the harsh weather, and get rid of the excess energy he could already feel building up. Vesemir was gracious enough to refer to it as 'extra training' and not act like it was a necessity if they all wanted Aiden to avoid getting so restless he literally started climbing the walls.
"No! I mean...I didn't realise before now until I saw you silhouetted like that with your swords and everything, but it's you!"
Aiden suddenly found himself with a limpet of a bard hanging off him, determined to cling despite the rainwater which now soaked both of them.
"Jaskier, I-"
"Oh right. You probably don't remember, what am I saying, of course you don't - Jaskier you fucking idiot. It's been thirty years, no doubt you've lost count of how many humans you've dealt with in the meantime. But-"
"Jaskier." Lambert huffed out from where he was dozing on the fur which acted as a hearth rug, not even bothering to open his eyes, "Let Aiden go dry off and then maybe some context to go with your twittering, Birdie."
By the time Aiden returned, Jaskier's excitement was enough that even the Wolves were giving him their full attention as he re-entered the main hall. Eskel and Geralt's books lay abandoned on a side table while a now awake Lambert was sat leaning against the wall by the hearth. He pulled Aiden down to sit next to him, the fire hot stone through his thick, wool shirt creating a pleasant warmth against his back.
"Alright then." Jaskier started from where he was sat cross legged in one of the old armchairs, leaning forwards as he once again addressed Aiden directly, "Before I start, do you remember anything about a night in Lettenhove thirty years ago. At the Viscount's estate."
Aiden shook his head, although something about this was starting to niggle the back of his mind.
"Name of Panktratz. Little boy, around six years old?" Jaskier continued, eyes growing sadder as it became clear this memory was potentially very one-sided, "Somehow convinced you to-"
He wasn't sure if it was the name or the wide-eyed look the man was throwing him, but Aiden felt something suddenly tumble into place. "Wait, I do remember that night!"
Aiden fought back a growl as he took in the various toys littering the floor, the miniature four poster bed...whose occupant was an even smaller lump under the covers.
That son of a bitch! That slimy twat had hired him to 'take care' of his nephew so he'd be next in line for the title instead, implying the whole time that his relative wasn't exactly deserving of the title. Aiden had accepted the job - what difference did the inner squabblings of Nobility make to him afterall.
In hindsight he probably should have asked more questions but he didn't have a copper coin to his name and this guy had paid upfront; enough for him to be able to eat regularly and maintain his gear for the foreseeable. He started planning after his employer graciously provided him with a blueprint of the estate and pointed out the targets rooms. He'd failed to mention however, that said target looked to be scarcely old enough to wield that wooden sword properly, nevermind any degree of power.
Fuck it. He should stay as far away from this potential mess as possible. It was bad enough when their employers pointed the finger of blame at them when they assassinated an adult, but a child? That was a complication none of them needed. Mind made up, he turned to climb back out of the window (which had been concerningly easy to coax open from the other side), making sure hood and mask were still firmly in place.
"Hello."
Aiden froze. Speaking of complications....
Rookie mistake! He'd been so caught up in everything else he'd forgotten to keep one ear focused on the other heartbeat in the room. He ran through possible scenarios: he could do what he'd been paid to do, but now the kid was awake there was every chance he'd scream and alert the house before Aiden could even lift a finger. Same potential problem if he tried to leave. He could always cast somne...
"You're a Witcher aren't you? I can see the shape of your swords!" Aiden's nose twitched at the boys scent. Strange. Even through the cloth covering the lower half of his face he could tell the boy didn't smell afraid. He smelled excited, happy even?
"I know all about Witchers. You keep us safe from monsters. Is that why you're here, is there a monster in my room?" The small voice turned slightly fretful as a faint whiff of fear started to sour the air - yet more strangeness in the fact that it was due to imagined monsters rather than him.
Aiden dared to turn and look, something about this child's initial boldness piquing his curiousity (who the hell starts questioning a stranger in their room instead of screaming the place down?). A small boy stared back at him with large eyes as he clutched the soft looking sheets to him like a shield as he curled up in the centre of the bed. "My Uncle Desmond says that monsters like to come out at night and eat little boys. I don't like him. He's mean."
Aiden gave a bittersweet smile at the pout he could see on the little face.
'Oh. You have no idea just how mean, kid.' He thought to himself.
"No, no monsters here. Go back to sleep."
The boys pout turned into a frown, "You didn't even look."
"Because I don't need to."
"Please, Mister Witcher." His bottom lip wobbled in a practiced tremble as his eyes grew even bigger.
Aiden bit back another smile. Kid was good, he'd give him that. Such audacity deserved some sort of reward.
"Alright. One very quick monster check, then you go to sleep. Deal?"
The boy nodded enthusiastically, "My name's Julian, by the way."
"I don't care."
"...are you going to tell me yours?"
"No."
"Can I see your swords?"
"No."
"How about your-"
"How about no talking until we make absolutely sure there's nothing waiting in your wardrobe?"
Turns out the only monstrous thing in Julian's wardrobe was a few hideous combinations of frills and lace. Behind the curtains yielded nothing, as did underneath the bed.
"Ok. Now you hold up your end of the deal and go to sleep."
Julian scowled at him in response from where he was now stood up on the feather mattress to watch rather than huddled under the sheets, arms crossed expectantly.
"What?"
"You're supposed to say sweet dreams."
Aiden blinked at him before replying "Sweet dreams." Monotonously.
"Tuck me in?"
Aiden cast the sign for somne, Julian's body flopping down before he'd even finished. Cheeky little fuck would've been wanting a lullaby next. Still, it wouldn't do for him to get cold, there was no fireplace in this room after all. He grabbed the quilt from the bottom of the bed, not bothering to straighten it as it fell haphazardly over the small body before doing what he should have done thirty minutes ago and taking his leave back through the window.
"I told my parents about you the next morning. They didn't believe me of course. Said it was probably just a dream and that if there had been a Witcher in my room I'd be dead. Although, I suppose that explains why my Uncle Desmond looked apoplectic when I came down to breakfast. I never knew he'd hired you to, you know." He flicked a hand across his neck in a throat cutting motion. "Why didn't you by the way? Not that I'm saying I wish you had or anything. I was a human child, you could've killed me multiple times as easily as scratching an itch but you didn't. Why?"
Aiden's features settled into a frown, "Oh trust me, if your Uncle had waited ten more years it probably would've been a very different outcome. As it is, once I had all the facts, I just decided against accepting a contract on a kid. The one who offered me the contract however..."
Jaskiers eyebrows shot up as he shuffled further forwards, "Are you saying you offed my uncle? He did just sort of... disappear."
"Not exactly. I merely broke back in and left evidence of what he'd planned somewhere I knew the current Viscount would find it. What he chose to do with that I had no involvement in. If he just so happened to be on the lookout for an assassin and I was coincidentally still in the area, well...no Witcher is ever going to turn down such well paying jobs so close together."
Jaskier laughed, causing the wolves to look at him in shock, "Oh don't look like that. I didn't learn the extent of it until I was older but besides trying to murder me he was an absolute cock. Definitely not somebody you'd want in charge of anything!"
"The ones that desperate for power usually aren't." Eskel mused, Lambert raised his cup in agreement.
"You know, I'm so happy that Geralt ended up being the Witcher I ran into in Posada. But when I started out from Oxenfurt, I was actually looking for you."
Aiden straightened up in slight surprise, "Why?"
"Because I wanted to do this." Jaskier got down on the floor and once again wrapped his arms around Aiden, the Witcher returning the hug this time.
"Thanks." Jaskier muttered, "For humouring a scared, probably irritating as hell, little boy."
Aiden tightened his hold slightly, "You're welcome, Julian."
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nadas-dirthalen · 15 days ago
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I Saw Solas's Origin in an Achievement Icon and It Opened My Eyes on 15 Years of Lore
— PART NINE: if you haven't read previous parts, do it now! —
[ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ] [ 6 ] [ 7 ] [ 8 ] [ 10 ]
Welcome, friends and travellers! I wanted to get some thoughts recorded before Veilguard's release so I could see if I am right about an absolute BOATLOAD of theories I have.
In short: I saw the achievement list when it was released. I have seen the backstory hints for Solas included in said list. AND MY MIND WAS BLOWN.
You have been warned: THIS COLLECTION OF THEORIES INCLUDES SPOILERS FOR EVERY DRAGON AGE GAME AND ALL PROMOTIONAL MATERIAL UP TO AND INCLUDING OCTOBER 18, 2024.
Come sit down with me. Make a nice cup of tea (and hide it from Solas). We've got a lot of unpacking to do.
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(no, this gif isn't the spoiler, I just like it.)
The Story of Solas: Him Solas Evanuris, Da'durgen'lin (2/3)
— The War That Made Him 'Sing Our End' —
If you're still here, I thank you, from the bottom of my tired heart.
From one single achievement icon, we've unearthed (hah) the workings of Thedas, its realms, its magic. We've come to understand the Evanuris, and we understand one of the youngest of them.
Now, we understand his title: the Dread Wolf, Fen'Harel. Walker of the in-between, as much Evanuris as he is Forgotten One. Da'durgen'lin, boy made from stone. The blight given to the Titan, Terror.
His existence opened the pathway to the end of all things. He and Mythal would fight to stop it. Mythal would lose the fight, and Solas would lose the rest of the world.
Let's keep going. Part 2 of 3, y'all.
Seriously, as ever, go read the other parts before this one. If you need to only read a few, then read 1, 3, 4, 5, and 7 (linked above). All of those matter for context here, you've been forewarned!
This post is going to be long. Let's dive right in. We've got:
The Beginning of the End, and the Rebellion that Tried to Prevent It
"The Wolf Chews Off Its Own Leg to Escape the Trap"
The Prison; the... Gangue?
Uthenera, and a Love of the Fade
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The Truth About Solas No One (in Thedas) Ever Found... but We All Heard
(screenshot from the June 11 gameplay reveal.)
There were little hints to Solas being from icy terror throughout Inquisition, and I want to make quick mention of them.
First is the fact that when you load up Inquisition's prologue, Solas does not have one point in Spirit talents, as one might expect. No: he has one singular point in Winter's Grasp. I never could figure out why. This would make sense.
But also, one more small thing I noticed? If you solve a puzzle in Trespasser (the one in the Shattered Library) and open up the Dread Wolf statue's chest, you get... Rime.
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An ice sword. The description says, "Etched into this blade: 'The way is full of tests and danger. Watch with the coolness of contemplation to stay safe.'"
Coolness. Contemplation—another word for wisdom, that was mentioned in the 'Callback' short story of Tevinter Nights as one of the potential spirits behind the big Regret demon. Both of those things being associated together: icy contemplation? Cold calculation?
Uh huh. UH HUH. OKAY MOVING ON. The next point I want to make is even more important, and I don't have time to hunt for every tiny mention of ice-Solas when we have a day and a half until Veilguard.
Take a breath in with me.
Solas has been singing to us this whole time. His song—the Hallelujah cadence—has been how he has told us of his past, the whole time. Every time he remembers his origins, his history, he is speaking in song. And the very first of those songs, that I can see?
"They're all singing. Coffers, coffins, corpses that aren't dead. A song crying out in the dark." — Cole dialogue, Trespasser
Cole is right, here. (and always.)
It is Mythal's lullaby to Solas, in the same cadence. Calling him into being, using the song he knows best.
His whole life has been a ballad. Not the ballad of his rebellion—though that was one piece of it.
The ballad of the Dread Wolf. The ballad of the blight.
Let's follow its story.
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The Beginning of the End, and the Rebellion that Tried to Prevent It
(screenshot specifically from this Kala Elizabeth video that I have seen before, i swear i am not going through youtube or looking at new content!)
Remember what we know so far: Terror was the first Titan gone wrong. Before that, the elves did not call them Forgotten Ones, because there was nothing dangerous enough to necessitate forgetting.
It was Andruil, stalker of the Void, who would hunt the Forgotten Ones AFTER they had been named such. Who would break rules, cross boundaries, and return blighted.
It was not Terror she hunted. It was Pestilence. The other Evanuris each had their own Titans that they mined, and the others were all fighting back.
Solas's rebellion—which I imagine Mythal was his ally during—aimed to stop the Evanuris. Who better, after all, right? Who better, than the one who had survived what they hoped to unleash? Who better, than the one that the People recognized as stronger than the blight?
But to just curb their usage of blight magic would never have been enough.
It does not matter what the Evanuris did with that blight, initially. It matters that the blight existed at all, and we know that every single one of the Evanuris did actions that caused every Titan to fight back. That's why they have the names they do: terror, malice, spite, pestilence.
The world was doomed either way, because when the Titans turned before the time of the Veil, that meant that the Fade, a part of them, was also doomed.
There was nothing the damage would not touch. The only possible thing would have been to somehow have the Evanuris make up for all their many, many horrors—and would you forgive them, if you were a Titan, knowing what they've done?
We don't know the exact details of his rebellion, yet, and so I cannot properly analyze the legends of Fen'Harel that would have taken place during this rebellion (such as the one with Andruil and Anaris). I also do not have the time to devote to researching them before finishing part 10 of this series.
But it could only end one way.
With the Veil going up, the Evanuris locked away, all the Titans sundered from all their conscious minds—to save the Titans from THEMSELVES.
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"The Wolf Chews Its Leg Off to Escape the Trap"
"He broke the dreams to stop the old dreams from waking. The wolf chews its leg off to escape the trap." — Cole dialogue, Trespasser
I never understood what that meant, before. Solas created the Veil, yes—but what about the Veil was his leg? Because "chews its leg off" implies that Solas has done personal harm to himself, specifically, in the creation of the Veil. What would be true for Solas that is not true of the other elvhen impacted by the Veil? Shouldn't all of their legs have been chewed off, too, in this analogy?
No: because there was one of the Evanuris alone who walked among both clans of gods, remember?
Fen'Harel. Evanuris and Forgotten One. Da'durgen'lin, who the Titans recognize as their own. We do not know what happened to Solas during his rebellion or how he communicated with the other Forgotten Ones (or, I do not know yet, and have no time to find out), but we do know that he walked among both, seen as a peer among both sets of gods.
That means that, for all he looked like an Evanuris, some part of Solas still was Titan-borne, in ways none of the Evanuris were. What might the distinguishing feature of one of the Titan-borne be?
The song. The one he continues to speak in, trying to hint what happened.
Forever calling for home.
In creating the Veil and sundering the Titans, Solas broke his own home, his own source of life. In sundering the Titans, he sundered a fundamental piece of himself.
Who among the audience remembers Solas's greatest fear, as seen in the Fade during Here Lies the Abyss?
Dying. Alone.
Not dying without Mythal. Not dying without Arlathan. Not the empire of old never being restored.
Dying.
Alone.
While you're reaching for the nearest tissues, let me pull up some Varric/Solas banter for you.
Solas: Do you ever miss life beneath the earth? The call of the Stone? Varric: Nah. Whatever the Stone - capital S - is, it was gone by the time my parents had me. Solas: But... do you miss it? Varric: How could I miss what I never had? Varric: But say I did have that sense, that connection to the Stone. What would it cost me? Varric: Would I lose my friends up here? Would I stop telling stories? Varric: I like who I am. If I want to hear songs, I'll go to a tavern. Solas: You are wiser than most.
Solas is afraid. He is afraid of being the only one to remember the call of the Stone. Do the other dwarves miss it? Will they ever fight to have it back?
Solas: Is there at least a movement to reunite Orzammar and Kal-Sharok? Varric: What is it with you, Chuckles? Why do you care so much about the dwarves? Solas: Once, in the Fade, I saw the memory of a man who lived alone on an island. Most of his tribe had fallen to beasts or disease. His wife had died in childbirth. He was the only one left. He could have struck out on his own to find a new land, new people. But he stayed. He spent every day catching fish in a little boat, every night drinking fermented fruit juice and watching the stars. Varric: I can think of worse lives. Solas: How can you be happy surrendering, knowing it will all end with you? How can you not fight? Varric: I suppose it depends on the quality of the fermented fruit juice. Solas: So it seems.
Most of his people fell to disease. He was the only one left.
Solas isn't talking about the blighted elves of ancient Arlathan. He is talking about the other beings of the Stone, all succumbing to the blight. The defence mechanisms of the Titans he was forced to sunder and put to eternal sleep.
Solas: I am sorry to have bothered you with my questions about your people Varric. I see so much of this world in dreams. Humans, my own people, even qunari. Dwarves alone were lost to me, save scattered fragments of memory where some spirit cared to watch. Now I know why I see so little. Varric: And why is that? Solas: Dwarves are the severed arm of a once mighty hero, lying in a pool of blood. Undirected. Whatever skill of arms it had, gone forever. Although it might twitch to give the appearance of life, it will never dream. Varric: I'd avoid mentioning that to any Carta, Chuckles. They might not take it the right way.
Because the Titans are all gone, as far as Solas is concerned. They are gone, because it was necessary to sunder the waking world from the dreaming one. The Titans needed to be disarmed—and the Evanuris needed to be so caught off guard, they would be vulnerable. He only needed to successfully complete one ritual.
One we already know exists.
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The Prison; the... Gangue?
(screenshots from Kala Elizabeth's video. i know her channel is spoiler-free!)
Solas did not intend to cause worldwide destruction with the Veil; it was what he had to do. He put the Titans to sleep so they would not—could not—fight back, and imprisoned the Evanuris so there would be no one left alive to manipulate the blight.
"Solas doesn't want to hurt people! He's not that kind of wolf! Qunari don't see." — Cole dialogue, Trespasser
But the Evanuris could not exist in any normal prison. Had they access to their bodies in any capacity, they would have killed each other, knowing they would soon come back through their archdemons.
Solas needed to take all access to their mobile bodies away. I wondered how, because we see him standing in "fade jail." But what I had not seen, or what I had not known to look for, were the statues all around Solas.
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We know, from Inquisition, what can be done with those statues. We see it in the Hissing Wastes, and the Tomb of Fairel questline.
Until further notice: Do not tamper with the torches! Lighting them in wrong order summons demons. The inscriptions on the pillars indicate the correct order, but wait until we have confirmed the accuracy of our translations before proceeding. I have made maps to the other tombs where there are similar structures. Let the same warning stay your hand there. - Magister Gallus Below this, someone else has written complicated formulas and scribbled many notes: - Demons bound into the rock! How did the ancient dwarves manage it without mages? (Binding runes? Subtle properties of stonework? Investigate!) - "Gangue" carved into walls. Could be translated from Old Dwarven as "Stone waste" or "Impure spirit-of-the-stone." Dwarven superstition, saw demons as "impure" spirits of rock? - Study impossible with dormant demons. Ask Sephus and Urathus for help with binding.
Demons can be bound into stone. But what is a demon? A demon is a twisted spirit.
And we know from not only the Chant of Light, but prior theorycrafting in this series (part 3), that everyone who is alive has a spirit for a soul. Spirits and souls are the same thing: the thoughts of Titans.
Those can be removed from bodies. They can be placed into bodies. We've seen the Evanuris do it, with Dirthamen "taking secrets away" from the animals he experimented on.
And once put into stone? There would be no way for the Evanuris to act except for the tenuous connection to the other pieces of themselves: the parts of their souls stored in their archdemons, who would begin to whisper to the priests of old Tevinter.
But what would happen, over four thousand years?
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"The prison in which I had trapped them had begun to crumble. I was moving them to another—"
This confirms, to me, that the Evanuris were trapped in those statues, AND that it was, in fact, a good plan!
Good job, Solas! Sorry we made fun of you for an entire franchise.
Still wish you would've asked any of your friends for help, ever, and maybe not murdered some of them.
But, no matter how good the plan, the result of Solas creating the Veil, sundering the Titans, breaking his own connection to the Titans, and imprisoning the Evanuris into stone took a massive toll on him. One he would not recover from for thousands of years.
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Uthenera, a Love of the Fade, and the Desire to Remake the World He Knew
This section, thank the gods, gets to be short.
We all know that Solas, weakened, went into Uthenera: the eternal waking sleep. What I want to discuss is why he loved it so much.
Think about it with me for a moment: what is the Fade, from all we have learned in these posts? It is the sleeping Titans' consciousness. The domain of all the Titans' thoughts, and the natural dwelling place of Fade spirits—which are also the Titans' thoughts.
You know what that sounds like to me?
The closest that Solas can get to the Isatunoll he once knew, before the Veil. The one mentioned when Mythal sang that lullaby to him.
Remember what I thought of the elvish word suledin?
sul: possibly short for sulahn, "sing" e: possibly used in place of e'var, as in "our (in Isatunoll)" or "the Titans'" din: death; the dead; the end
Solas could 'sing our end' in the Fade, with the other spirits.
He doesn't have to be the lone man on the island, in the Fade. Not as much, anyway. The realm of the Fade takes the shape of the thoughts and memories of the spirits and people inhabiting it at the time. Thoughts communicate with Fade and shape it.
Is it any wonder, then, that things were always easier for Solas in the Fade, by his own admission?
He was always telling us the truth. We just didn't know enough to see it.
Solas stayed in uthenera for four thousand years (give or take?), and in that time, entrenched in his beliefs. How could he not? He had just caused worldwide devastation out of necessity, and was mourning the loss of all he never stood a chance of saving. He broke the world to break the blight—and when he slept, he mourned it. His people, made of stone, all gone. His people, in their greed, the ones who destroyed it all.
Titans and Evanuris; he walked among them both. He betrayed both.
Both betrayed him first.
Of course he planned to wake, to move the Evanuris to a new prison, and then take down the Veil. It would be so much easier, moving their harmless spirits from statue to statue. And once it was over? The Titans could wake, see that their tormentors were all gone, and—perhaps—heal.
He seeks... regeneration.
But Corypheus heard whispers from Dirthamen, long before then. Corypheus would survive what Solas had intended to kill him with. The Veil would be in danger of coming crashing down—and bringing the horrors of the Evanuris and Titans both back with its disintegration.
Solas had intended to sacrifice a world he didn't know in pursuit of healing the one he wounded.
Corypheus, however, would force him into the Inquisition—and the Inquisition would change everything.
---
Also: I am essentially FULLY OFFLINE to try and avoid game spoilers! As these reviews have just gone live yesterday (10/28), I am not reading my notifications/replies, and am appearing here only to continue posting my theories. I have heard that the embargo has been broken at least once already and I refuse to risk it, so I will respond to messages and notifications once I have played Veilguard for a bit.
(Mutuals, if you need me, you may DM me, as long as you do not mention the reviews in any capacity.)
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asumofwords · 1 year ago
Text
Smoke, Fire and Ash - Aemond POV
Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Aemond!POV, murder, violence, blood, gore, infidelity, smut.
This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.
Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)
Masterlist
Characters: Aemond!POV Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.
Note: Hello my angels, I thought I would write this up considering I've had so many of you asking for Aemond!POV chapters for when he goes to Harrenhal etc.
So I have written two short chapters, one as an introduction to Alys Rivers (I can hear you all hissing right now) and the other will be the Aemond!POV of when he finds the reader after her assault. I'm sorry I haven't written too many Aemond POV's as of late, but I don't really have the energy to do it! So, I hope this feeds you for the time being. Enjoy <3
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Alys Rivers
Alys Rivers was a woman of conviction, head strong, and assured.
Though a bastard and a wet nurse in Harrenhals walls, she had teeth that had been sharpened by the blade she had been raised on. Quick witted and patient, Alys was willing to sit back and watch things play out, and not be rushed to action.
Though, it helped to have her sight. A gift in which she had been born with, a gift in which her mother before her had guided her through.
Storm clouds and pools of water, flames of fire or cups of ale, Alys saw many visions and knew much of many things. She knew of the future, and of the past. And she saw the present as anyone else did, but with whispers of what was yet to come.
Alys had looked into the flames of a fire one night, and she had seen a vision of green and black, a vision of Fire and Blood, dripping from the earth, pooling thickly beneath it. She saw a mountain three feet tall, and she saw a man with silver hair, and one lone eye, standing tall with sword in hand.
She had seen the destruction of House Strong, and had not warned her kin.
Aemond Targaryen was a man of duty, but Alys Rivers contradicted this. For she was low born, a bastard of a House he unleashed years of collected rage and sorrow upon.
The Prince remembered the day clearly. News had come to Kings Landing, and death had come to Harrenhal in return.
He had every person, young and old, child and man grown, woman and babe, lined up for him in the yard of Harrenhal, and with Aemond’s hand, he delivered swift and unjustified death to all of them. 
They had watched one after the other be slain, all in a line, waiting for their turn to go next. Waiting on shaking legs, soiled in fear as they were pushed towards the One-Eyed Prince.
With each swing of his sword, slowly, but surely, the House Strong dwindled, and their numbers dissolved into a lump of flesh and blood. Each one begged for mercy, each child calling for their mothers, each woman begging for their life. But some of the men did not beg, and went to him without a word, eyes coldly staring into Aemond’s.
Strong. 
He supposed that was why the House was called what it was. He could not say the same for the women though, but they would fall, whether on their knees willingly or with the slice of his blade through their bones. 
Each and every single one of them was slain, until a pile of heads grew larger and larger, its base unsteady as new ones were tossed atop, rolling from the highest point down onto the blood soaked stones below. 
She had been one of the last of them.
Alys Rivers.
A Strong Bastard.
A woman, older than him, with jet black hair and bright green eyes. She had an air to her which invited mystery, allure, and Alys had walked towards Aemond, with no fear, as though she already knew her fate.
As though she knew that she would be spared. 
And she was. 
“Are you going to beg?” He had asked her cruelly, waiting for the tears to roll down her cheeks and her meek pleading to begin. 
But she didn’t. 
Instead, Alys Rivers spoke with confidence, “No.” She did not address him, “It is not my time. She waits for you…” Alys paused, seeing Aemond stiffen, hand readjusting on the large blade which dripped with the blood of her House, “Your zaldrītsos.”
Zaldrītsos.
How did she-
Aemond looked at the woman.
She was dressed in maids robes, and her hair lay shinily down her back. Her eyes were what drew him to her the most. They were the brightest green he had ever seen, brighter than the scales on Vhagar, like two emeralds that glistened behind her thick, black eyelashes. 
“Come.” Aemond had barked, flicking his sword out to the side of him, blood spraying against the stone.
Alys smiled.
She did not bow, she did not address him as Your Grace, My Lord, My Prince, she did not offer him anything but what she would willingly give. It intrigued him. And so with swift and wet footsteps, he stormed across the courtyard, leaving his men to deal with the mess that he had created, and to finish what he had started. 
Aemond had taken her, forcefully, brutally, and roughly in one of the closest rooms he could have found. His armour was dripping with blood, it dotted his face and stuck thickly in his silver white hair, clumping the strands together, and if she had any fear or worries about it, or about him, she did not show it.
And instead, Alys Rivers had welcomed him into her cunt, which was wet with her slick already without having been touched. 
And thus became a new duty Aemond created for himself.
To see her. His Alys. To watch her. Talk to her. Fuck her. Dive between her thighs, latch his lips around her nipples which leaked mothers milk into his mouth for him suck greedily, nipping at the stiffened peaks with his sharp teeth. 
As he grew to know Alys, he grew to love her too. His Alys. His witch. She sees much and more, and tells him much and most. She sees things, in the clouds, in the sea, puddles or chalices. In the flames of the fireplace, or the flames of Vhagar, who he let her ride with him, sat astride in front or behind, her soft skin pressed to him tightly. 
For any fear Alys had for him, she did not show it. 
She did not cower at his anger, nor did she shrink at the sight of his eye like others. She came to him, swiftly, confidently, and kissed the scarred skin, cradled it with milk white hands, whispered praise and adoration to him, and murmurs of her visions. 
Of his zaldrītsos.
And visions of herself. 
“I see a babe born of your blood, his fire licking at my womb. A young Prince.” Her hands soothed through his long hair, as she held him in the chambers he had demanded for her.
A Prince. 
A babe. 
His. 
Aemond hummed, “And when will the bastard Prince be born.”
“When the tenth moon comes and goes, the babe will be born as the air shifts, and another grows.”
“Another?”
“A true born Prince of silver hair and purple eyes. You will be wed to your zaldrītsos, and she will come to love you as I do.”
Aemond felt his heart race in his chest, “And you have seen it?”
“I have, my dragon. I have seen many things, heard much more. I see what is yet to come, and what has been.”
Aemond shifted, leaning on an arm so that he lay above her, “And what do you see, my witch?”
Alys looked into his eye and let a soft hand brush against his face and up through his hair. Leaning up, she pressed a kiss to his sapphire eye, then to his cheek, and then to his mouth, rolling her hips upwards to meet his own, his softened length beginning to harden again. 
“I see a union, of Green and Black. Of two great flames, united as one.” The witch rolled her hips again, feeling his length stiff and heavy upon her thigh. Reaching a hand down she grasped him and pumped him in her palm, “I see a love that was lost, united again.” 
Leaning forward, Aemond slid through her folds and into her waiting heat, pleasure rolling through the both of them.  As he moved in and out of her cunt, Alys continued to whisper her visions. 
“An ‘X’ to guide her way back to you. She walks through the dark to seek you out. To t-touch you.” Her back arched as Aemond dips a head to take a swollen breast into his mouth. 
Aemond began to thrust into her harder, “Ravens will whisper the words of a burning star, a crown forged of blood.” She cried, nearing her release as his long fingers made their way to her pearl, rubbing in slow circles, feeling her cunt flutter around his cock. 
“I saw a child, born from ice and fire, the Prince that was promised. Five years to come, from her blood, the Merciless Princess.”
Alys came with a cry, and Aemond toppled over the edge shortly after, laying on top of her for her to brush slow hands through his hair as they both came down from their highs, sighs and jagged breaths, Aemond’s cock softening inside of her. 
“She will come back to me?” Aemond whispered into her neck, feeling the heat from her body radiate up onto him.
“She will always come back to you.”
And Aemond always came back to Alys.
For she offered visions of hope, visions of love. Words of encouragement and praise. She offered a place of solitude, a place to be him. A place to get away, to hide, to seek out a warmth he never got from you, or his mother, or anyone who was supposed to love or care for him. 
Alys Rivers had seen many things. 
And she had seen you.
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Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3
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