#return of the dark brotherhood

[thewatcher727]

Whispers In The Storm Is Now Live!

Shadow the Hedgehog trudged forward through the unforgiving tempest, his quills drenched by the ceaseless downpour. Each step felt like a struggle against invisible chains, as if gravity itself had grown teeth to sink into his every movement. He couldn't help but question how he had stumbled into this maelstrom of chaos and challenge.

The rain poured down in torrents, shrouding the world in a curtain of liquid obscurity. It fell with such intensity that even the Ultimate Life Form had to abandon his signature speed, reduced to a mere mortal battling against the elements. The droplets, heavy as anvils, hammered relentlessly upon his ebony physique.

With every step, Shadow's muscles strained against the weight of the deluge. His jaw clenched, the force of his will etching lines of determination upon his face. His crimson eyes pierced through the veil of water, fixated on an unseen horizon that promised respite from the storm's watery wrath.

The world around him blurred into an impressionistic swirl, shapes and shadows dancing in a liquid ballet. The air, thick with moisture, clung to his fur like the desperate hands of phantoms, impeding his progress with a chilling persistence. It was as if the heavens themselves conspired to drown his spirit.

As he contemplated his options, his gaze drifted to the right. Amidst the chaotic downpour, a familiar sight emerged from the gloom—a quaint cottage nestled amidst the verdant embrace of the Floral Forest Village. It was Amy's home, an unexpected sanctuary in the tempest's relentless grasp.

His expression remained stoic, an enigmatic mask concealing the thoughts that churned within his mind. The decision weighed heavily upon him, as his innate desire for self-preservation warred with the instinct to seek refuge in the haven that stood before him. A silent grunt escaped his lips, revealing a fraction of his internal struggle. Yet, in the end, the hedgehog chose not to risk his life further and resolved to knock upon Amy's door, his salvation within reach.

Shadow closed the distance between himself and the cottage, each step measured and deliberate. The downpour persisted, its relentless assault a symphony of nature's fury.

Raising a gloved hand, he firmly rapped his knuckles against the door, a sound muffled by the drumming of raindrops upon the cottage's roof.

The door creaked open, revealing a small crack of warm light that spilled out into the stormy night. Amy's figure emerged from the brightness within the cottage. Her eyes widened in surprise and concern as she recognized the drenched and weary figure before her.

"Shadow?"

Continue Reading:

FanFiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14292740/1/Whispers-In-The-Storm

Archive of Our Own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51156646

[blackmetalsnake]

Emotional support ASSassin for @chennnington!!! ❤️❤️❤️

He's so crazy

[jewishcissiekj]

Since Asajj Ventress appeared in recent media and is set to appear in future shows and Star Wars content, I've seen a lot of people starting to read Dark Disciple. but besides that book, there are so many stories featuring Asajj over her 22 years of existence. So if you are looking for some recommendations and entry points to Asajj outside of the TV shows, here are some recommendations to get to know her a bit better, in both the Canon and Legends timelines:

(for anyone looking for a definitive list of everything she's ever been in, I also have that)

for anyone looking for just the list of recommendations without all my babbling, scroll down to the bottom, it'll be there.

Canon

Dooku: Jedi Lost Audiodrama - Script by Cavan Scott, preformed by full cast (also available in Script format) Starting off, this masterpiece. Telling the dual story of Asajj and Dooku, Jedi Lost is genuinely some of the best Star Wars content out there, in my opinion. Taking place early in The Clone Wars, it tells Asajj's journey battling her ghosts and uncovering her Master's history. It requires only the context of the prequels and The Clone Wars, and I wholeheartedly recommend it to anyone who likes the Prequels, Dooku, or Asajj.

Brotherhood - by Mike Chen Continuing with the book that serves as an introduction to Asajj in canon (chronologically), Brotherhood presents an interesting take on her first meetings with Anakin and Obi-Wan. She's far from the main character here, only supporting the book's plot as the villain and the initiator behind some of the troubles Obi-Wan faces on Cato Neimodia. This Asajj is more calculated, working behind the scenes while still facing off face to face against Obi-Wan and Anakin, and it uniquely handles her character. The book is a Clone Wars adventure taking place before and it requires only the movies' and TCW's context, once again. *While technically taking place after Hyperspace Stories #5, it contradicts that issue's events and makes more sense if it takes place before, so I listed it first (for more info on the contradictions you can go here)*

Star Wars: Hyperspace Stories #5 - Written by Amanda Deibert, with art by Riccardo Faccini (Variant cover by Cary Nord) Taking place shortly after Anakin's knighting, before The Clone Wars show, this is a short and interesting comic story for Asajj. While tying into an over-arching plot of the series, this issue stands alone well. Simply put, Asajj is sent to retrieve a mysterious item by Count Dooku and encounters Anakin and Obi-Wan in the process. It has fun art, fun dynamics, and it's really good.

Worthless - a short story from Stories of Jedi and Sith - written by Delilah S. Dawson with an illustration by Jake Bartok This one is not as set on the timeline, but we do know it takes place while Asajj is still working for Dooku. In short, without too many spoilers, Asajj falls into a pit and has to trust on a Clone Trooper's help to get out. The story is a part of an anthology, but it completely stand-alone on its own. If you can read it on its own, I recommend it, but the rest of the book is also very much worth it if you want to buy it for the story. Dawson captures a version of Asajj that rarely gets attention, before the Nightsisters, and manages to show her identity and tell a wonderful story without that tool that's often overly used (in my opinion).

Star Wars Adventures: Return to Vader's Castle #3 - Written by Cavan Scott with art by Francesco Francavilla & Nick Brokenshire Jumping forward in the Timeline, we have another Asajj story by Cavan Scott! It has Bounty Hunting, A baby Sarlacc, pretty art, fun coloring, and Asajj. So what's not to love? Like Hyperspace Stories, Return to Vader's Castle also has an over-arching plot, but that's 4 framing pages of Vaneé being a bitch and has no effect on the rest of it. Solid stuff. (it is also the source of the first picture in this post)

Sisters - a short comic story from the Age of Republic Special - written by Jody Houser with art by Carlos Gómez Next, we have a wonderful short story taking place just before The Clone Wars episode "To Catch a Jedi". In just a few pages, Jody Houser brings conflict and personality to Asajj's time on Coruscant. And there's gorgeous art.

Legends

While Legends, and especially the comics, have some of my favorite stories with Asajj, it's hard to recommend individual issues. They can be stand-alone but still connected and ingrained in the ongoing story of the comics. But I tried to hand-pick the best for introduction and knowledge of who Asajj is a character there. So I won't recommend the 12 issues she's in, I set myself the limit of sticking with the same number of recommendations I had for canon.

Star Wars: Republic: The New Face of War - 2-issue Comic arc - written by W. Haden Blackman with art by Tomás Giorello Although I'm assuming you all have at least a passing familiarity with Asajj's character, introductions are still important. And, yes, Asajj first appeared in a different comic and after a month or so in Clone Wars (2003), but chronologically, in-universe, this is her first appearance. The Face of War is comprised of issues #51 and #52 of the Star Wars: Republic comic series, and although Asajj is only in the last page of #51, it's necessary context. This one isn't a must for me, but it sets the ground for her. And it's good. Giorello's art brings a unique perspective to Asajj's character, and by that I mean it may not be to some people's taste. So take your pick with this one.

Star Wars: Republic #53 - written by W. Haden Blackman, with art by Brian Ching If the last one isn't a must, this one is. It is a stand-alone adventure, almost feeling like a (better) TCW episode. Obi-Wan is off to infiltrate a Techno Union base with a team of all-star legendary Jedi that are introduced, and everything goes wrong when they run into the Confederacy's best, Durge and Asajj Ventress. I say it's a must because it establishes the nature of the rivalry between Obi-Wan and Asajj, and gives us such a sense of who those people are. It also lays the foundations to my next comic recommendation.

Dark Heart - short story by August and Cynthia Hahn This one, a 1784-word story, originally published on Wizards.com as a part of The Living Force roleplaying campaign, is definitely not a must, but it's barely 2k words, just read it. In all seriousness though, it captures Asajj's essence and I just. love it. You can read it right now, that's the link in the name, it's up online for free legally. While it is a part of the RPG campaign, I read it individually and had no trouble at all.

The Cestus Deception - by Steven Barnes (The Japanese cover is prettier and has Asajj, ok?) Obi-Wan Kenobi and Kit Fisto head to the planet Ord Cestus to try and convince Ord Cestus's government to ally with The Republic. But under the surface, a mysterious scheme had developed and it gets messy. Never ask me to write a publisher's summary. Asajj is the villain of this one, and I don't have much to say about it, but it is good. Fair warning: it hasn't aged the best in my opinion, and not even in a politically correct sense, some of the descriptions and relationships were questionable at best. If you like Kit Fisto and political adventuring and Clone Wars fights and a mascarade ball, if I remember correctly, this one's for you. It's not much of a story for Asajj but it is a fun read.

Star Wars: Republic #60 - written by W. Haden Blackman with art by Tomás Giorello I have never ever not once said it but this right here is my favorite Asajj story of all time ever. It does require context, though, so here's it: after the battle of Jabiim, Alpha-17 (Legends Arc Trooper, you may have heard of him) and Obi-Wan (a staple in Asajj's stories, he needs to gtfo women's business) are blown up and declared dead. Turns out Asajj Ventress has been holding them in her castle on the planet Rattatak and this is the daring story of their escape. In this issue, Asajj's origin story is revealed, before the Nightsisters had anything to do with her. More than any other Legends issue, it differentiates greatly from anything you know about Asajj in TCW/Canon. She's a warlord, with armies at her beck and call, a military commander, And it's fun. Her origin story is told in this issue, and it's such a great story that shifted my understanding of her a lot. The art, once again, is by Giorello, keep it in mind.

Yoda: Dark Rendezvous - by Sean Stewart (Japanese cover, once again) Last but certainly not least, the Legends Clone Wars book I've heard the most positive reviews of, and was not disappointed in the slightest. It is as good as they say. The story doesn't focus on Asajj, and she isn't even the main antagonist, but she gets a meaningful role in it and has her place and her arc in the story. It's also my favorite approach to how Asajj would act when she has to deal with children. Worth the hype and an excellent book to read unrelated to Asajj.

Alright, that's all! I hope you check out at least one of these, they're all great. As said before, I also have a complete list of everything Asajj in chronological order. Feel free to ask me anything about the list and the things in it. I can also give a complete comic reading list for her, since it's a bit more than just the issues she appeared in. For anyone struggling with the accessibility of these recommendations, I have a hopefully comprehensive guide in the complete appearances post. And now just this list because I promised that:

Canon 1) Dooku: Jedi Lost Audiodrama - Script by Cavan Scott, preformed by full cast (also available in Script format) 2) Brotherhood - by Mike Chen 3) Star Wars: Hyperspace Stories #5 - Written by Amanda Deibert, with art by Riccardo Faccini (Variant cover by Cary Nord) 4) Worthless - a short story from Stories of Jedi and Sith - written by Delilah S. Dawson with an illustration by Jake Bartok 5) Star Wars Adventures: Return to Vader's Castle #3 - Written by Cavan Scott with art by Francesco Francavilla & Nick Brokenshire 6) Sisters - a short comic story from the Age of Republic Special - written by Jody Houser with art by Carlos Gómez

Legends 1) Star Wars: Republic: The New Face of War - 2-issue Comic arc (Star Wars: Republic #51-52) - written by W. Haden Blackman with art by Tomás Giorello 2) Star Wars: Republic #53 - written by W. Haden Blackman, with art by Brian Ching 3) Dark Heart - short story by August and Cynthia Hahn 4) The Cestus Deception - by Steven Barnes 5) Star Wars: Republic #60 - written by W. Haden Blackman with art by Tomás Giorello 6) Yoda: Dark Rendezvous - by Sean Stewart

tag list: @thechaoticfanartist @charmwasjess @metalatl @redsandspirit @slutshartsstuff @housepartyfortwo @karma-malfoy @thelivingforce

[poptartmochi]

love having a new Guy because then all the pre-existing guys get a cycle in the washing machine w him 🌪️🌪️

[wxstros]

Bonds Forged in Fire

In a world where dragons did not dance and Rhaenyra reigns unchallenged on the Iron Throne, her legacy endures through her three valiant sons, with the Targaryens having bowed to their rightful queen. You, a traveller in this medieval tapestry, have at last discovered the opportune moment to seek solace in Essos, intending to live out your days unburdened and free. No longer are you compelled to mend the fragile bonds among feuding cousins, having already nurtured a brotherhood among the Velaryon and Targaryen youths. Freed from the duty of attending to Alicent, appeasing your father Daemon, or strategizing for the benefit of the realm and its beloved Rhaenyra, you stand on the cusp of true retirement... or do you?

warnings: typical targcest/inc*st. DARK CHARACTERS; controlling behavior, manipulation, gaslighting. cursing. reader is a modern human. dance of the dragons did not happen. canon typical violence. yandere behavior!

pairings: hotd x reader, daemon targaryen x daughter!reader (platonic)

CHAPTER TWO: NO LONGER A FREE WOMAN

Quiet and Commanding. Graceful and Bloodthirsty — you were both the calmness of the sea and it's tempest. In a desperate act of survival, you reshaped the fate of Westeros; a no ordinary feat by all means, and you bore the scars of fabricating this delicate peace.

You sought to end a war before it grew to become one. Tearing the heart of the dragon so it no longer bore heads, you suffered the consequences of your meddling, self-preserving nature, from the curse of Targaryens.

Madness. Delusions. Paranoia..

Paranoia is ever common among people of power, and in your whimsical rendition of the present, you found yourself ensnared in the very web you sought to untangle.

Your knowledge of the succession of events was vital in its formative years; you were the weaver of histories yet unwritten, the keeper of secrets that shaped destinies. In the quiet chambers of the Red Keep, where whispers carried more weight than steel, you stood as a sentinel of wisdom amidst the unfolding of ambition and intrigue.

Once, you navigated the tapestry of Westerosi politics with a sure hand, guiding alliances and decisions that now lay woven into the fabric of a new era. But the future you once knew, predictable as the turning of seasons, now unfolded with unpredictable swiftness.

The absence of war reshaped the contours of power, leaving uncertainties where once there were certainties... and you had become one of it's unfortunate casualties.

"If I may speak, my lady," she began, her voice a whisper that hung in the air like the fragrance of roses in bloom. You turned to face her, your expression calm yet attentive, silently inviting her to share the secrets that threaded through the underbelly of courtly life. A strategically placed informant, a madame you kept in your good graces, for her valuable informations.

With practiced ease, you gestured for her to continue as you returned to your preparations, the delicate clink of jewelry punctuating the quiet conversation between you. The madame hesitated, her words measured and cautious, betraying the weight of the information she carried.

"I've come upon certain... revelations," she finally ventured, her tone laden with the gravity of her disclosure. She recounted, with a waver in her countenance, the princes' preferences— their specific demands echoing through the chambers like whispers of scandal. Each word revealed a world hidden behind closed doors, where fantasies intertwined with the obligations of royalty and it's stifling constraints.

Your hands paused momentarily, the silver earrings poised between your fingers as you absorbed the implications of her words. You feared the unspoken consequences of such desires. One that transcended the boundaries of rank and decorum, casting shadows upon the noble facade that adorned the princes in public.

"They call for you," she had confessed in a hushed tone, her eyes troubled yet resolute. "Not just any women, but those with your likeness. They cry out your name in the throes of passion, seeking to recreate a semblance of what they know in the sanctity of their chambers."

With a nod of dismissal, the madame withdrew, leaving the chamber with a bow of deference. Alone once more, you resumed your preparations, the morning light seeming dimmer now as you contemplated the delicate balance between power and discretion within the heart of the Red Keep. Yet, the madame's parting words lingered, her voice tinged with an urgency that unsettled you.

"Forgive me, if you must call me insolent." she had said, her eyes wide with concern, "Leave this place once you get the chance. These princes... they are not what they seem. Their love is a dangerous thing."

The weight of her warning wasn't missed, nor unrewarded. Leave, she said. And you almost wept at your desire to do so. The thought of escape had always been present, but now it seemed more pressing, more necessary.

The Targaryen madness... a curse that had plagued their bloodline for generations, was not a mere myth. It was a living, breathing beast that lurked within the halls of the keep, a beast that had ensnared even the most unsuspecting hearts.

The tales of their ancestors, the whispers of dragons and fire, echoed in your thoughts.

You had seen the cracks in their facades, the fleeting moments when the mask slipped, revealing the turmoil beneath. It was in the soft utterance, in a mad whisper of devotion.

with me, no harm shall come your way; rhaenyra, whispers.

i would kill anyone who tries to take you from me; daemon, vows.

you must always have me in your heart. it must have only me; aegon pleads.

It was devotion that threatened to consume you. It was in the quiet plea for acceptance. It was in the vulnerable displays, where the attachment grew into something you could no longer control.

never leave me; jacaerys utters with conviction.

tell me you need me; aemond, grips you.

tell me you love me; heleana whispers.

tell me you're mine...

The madness was not just in their blood; it was in their very souls, a consuming fire that threatened to engulf all who drew too close.

As you finished your preparations, you pondered your next step. To outmaneuver the most powerful people in the realm; to extricate yourself from their grasp, required more than just cunning. It required a keen understanding of the intricate dance of power and madness that played out within these walls.

As you stepped into the corridor, the weight of the madame's warning heavy upon your shoulders, you knew that your journey was far from over. The road ahead was treacherous, but with each step, you inched closer to the freedom that lay beyond the reach of the dragon's fire.

The small council was filled with nobles loyal to Rhaenyra's claim. People who were wise, honest, and unbearably scheming. Aemond was among the council, a concession to allow for unity and to placate those who supported his family. Yet, his presence was more than strategic; Aemond had always been smart and decisive, qualities that made him a valuable asset in matters of governance and warfare. His sharp mind and keen insights often cut through the labyrinth of political machinations, bringing clarity and resolution to complex issues.

Jacaerys, the crown prince, also held a seat on the council. As Rhaenyra's eldest son, it was imperative that he learn the intricacies of rule and the delicate balance of power within the realm. His participation was both an educational experience and a symbol of continuity, showing that the future of the realm was in capable hands. Though Aemond and Jace had a fraught history, they had reached a tenuous truce, understanding the necessity of cooperation for a shared cause. Their interactions were civil, even if not genuinely friendly, a testament to their shared commitment to the greater good.

Aegon, noticeably absent from the meeting, was occupied with securing an allegiance with a rich noble visiting. His transformation from a reckless youth to a responsible leader was a surprising deviation from the expected path, proving that even the most unlikely individuals could rise to the occasion when the realm demanded it.

Where there was once dignified discussions had unravelled into a heated one...

"A marriage allegiance, to the North?" Daemon repeats incredulously, a frown marring his features at the absurd suggestion from one of the lords in the small council.

The man, while relatively small in stature, held his stance despite receiving hostile glares from multiple pairs of scathing gazes. He was certain they wished to command his head off, but the loyalty to your cause remains in him. "The princess is of the right age to marry; it would strengthen our ties with the North and ensure their loyalty," the lord persisted.

Aemond tensed, repressing the urge to draw his sword and cut the insolent bastard's tongue for his brazen suggestion. His dear, sweet cousin, would not debase herself to a mere wolf when she had the blood of a dragon coursing through her veins!

Jace had a similar, quiet indignation. You would not marry to distant mountains, let alone to a foreign man. It was one thing to share your affections among their family, an entirely different one, should it be directed to another entirely.

Rhaenyra, at the head of the council, was first to voice her dissent, her expression calm yet resolute. "The realm is at peace. What need have we for an alliance with the North? We do not need to complicate matters with alliances that may bring more harm than good."

"Peace reigns now, the future is uncertain. Strengthening our ties with the North ensures stability in times of unforeseen turmoil. The marriage alliance is a precautionary measure, one that could safeguard the realm," the lord insisted, gathering murmurs of support around the table.

Daemon slammed his fist on the table, his voice booming. "We have dragons! We should be the ones feared, not groveling for alliances like beggars. The North should be seeking our favor, not the other way around. This talk of marriage is a distraction, a needless concession."

"We do not need to rally more support. Our house is strong enough without resorting to such measures," Jacareys adds, stoic though his eyes blazed with unspoken fury.

The defiance in the room was palpable, a wall of resistance against the idea of your marriage to a northerner, the famed Cregan Stark warden of the North.

Every time the notion of marriage was presented, they always had an excuse, a reason to dismiss it. Their hatred for the idea was unmistakable, rooted in their desire to keep you close, to maintain the unity of the family within the confines of King's Landing.

You never much bothered to disagree. Marriage was never your priority; you were trying to stave off the extinction of the Targaryens, where could you find the energy and time to please a husband?

However, this time, you decided to break the pattern.

"I agree," you said, your voice steady and calm. The room fell silent, all eyes turning to you in shock.

"You what?" Daemon's voice was low, dangerous, a silent threat hung in the air as if begging you to repeat your agreement.

"I admire Cregan Stark," you continued, ignoring the rising tension. "He is known to be handsome, domineering, strong, and capable. Such a match would be beneficial for our house."

And he lives in the desolate cold. Far from King's Landing. Come winter, and no dragon, however mighty, could cross its threshold.

Rhaenyra was speechless, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to find words. Daemon's face turned a deeper shade of red, his anger barely contained. Aemond and Jace looked as though they were on the verge of losing their composure, their fists clenched tightly.

"You would leave for the North?" While emotionless and composed, Aemond was anything but.

"This is absurd. You can't possibly mean this," Jace added, his tone equally tense.

You met their gazes with unwavering resolve. "This alliance is strategic. It ensures the realm's continued prosperity and stability. It is a decision made for the greater good."

Daemon's expression darkened, his frustration palpable as he struggled to reconcile his paternal instincts with sound reason, and not violent tendencies. He thiught it much easier to wield a sword and conquer cities.

"Whoever wove these tales, planting fairy-tale notions of a prince charming into my daughter's head, is a deceiver. They think they can trick her, make her believe in an idyllic fantasy. My daughter is naive and innocent in their eyes, easy to sway. But I will find this manipulator and have his head for daring to poison her mind with such nonsense!" He uttered, voice laced with venom, a final threat to whoever disagreed with his judgement— Daemon thought you naive, and gullible to suggestion, believing it was not your own will, but a treacherous cunt's ideas.

Afterall, you would never desire to leave him; your poor father... and the rest, whoever they may be. He still has no idea which was whom; he kept a tally of one or two silver haired kid, and the rest were lost to him.

Rhaenyra took a deep breath, her composure returning as she placed a hand on the table, grounding herself.

"We must weigh all options, think of the ramifications. A marriage... it is not a decision to be taken lightly."

Despite her words, you knew her mind was already made up. She had always been fiercely protective, and the idea of you leaving King's Landing, leaving her side, was something she could not easily accept.

The path to freedom was fraught with peril, but you had come too far to falter now. Your nod to the Arryn lord, was subtle— indicating he back down from his duel of wits. It was an issue for another day. Rhaenyra had made it so.

With a determined breath, you resolved to tread carefully, to gather the strength and allies needed to break free from the chains that bound you.

The Targaryen curse was a formidable foe, but you were no stranger to battles fought in the shadows.

***

do comment if you want to get tagged! 💗☺️

[uesp]

Did You Know: Vivec may be responsible for the existence of the Dark Brotherhood? The author Ynir Gorming speculates that following the backlash from the assassination of the Potentates, the Morag Tong agreed to worship Vivec instead of Mephala in return for clemency. The branch of the Morag Tong that refused to give up Mephala became the Dark Brotherhood.

[spectrum-color]

So we all know GRRM, like all authors, took a lot of inspo from real life fairy tales, religion, and mythology. There are a ton of parallels but I picked out a few to put in this poll

Propaganda: Before anyone says anything, I know a lot of these are dark spins on the original. I’m not trying to say Littlefinger is a handsome prince or whatever. Also note that some of this is based on either things that haven’t happened yet but are highly likely to happen in Winds/Dream up to and including being confirmed by GRRM.

Arya and Jaqen as Hades and Persephone-the young maiden of spring is found by the lord of the underworld, who gives her an object (in this case a coin) to trick her into being trapped in the world of the dead. When she leaves home, winter comes, but when she returns, so does spring.

Sansa as Rapunzel-a princess locked in a tower by an evil sorceress (or just queen) who is spirited away by a man who wants to marry her. Strong focus on her hair as a symbol of her identity.

The Brotherhood Without Banners as Robin Hood and his Merry Men-a band of outlaws who defend the common people against corrupt authority figures. This one is really self explanatory.

Cersei as the evil queen and Margaery/Sansa/eventually Dany as Snow White-a vain, cruel women terrified of her beauty fading and being replaced by a younger woman who outshines her, so she tries to destroy her perceived rival, ultimately leading to her own downfall. The girls in Snow Whites slot are the popular choices for the identity of the YMBQ and the one Cersei is currently convinced it is.

Jaime and Brienne as Beauty and the Beast-a double subversion. Jaime is handsome and Brienne is ugly, but when they meet she’s brave and kind while he’s selfish and cruel, so it’s the beast who helps the beauty be better.

Lyanna, Rhaegar, and Robert as Helen of Troy, Paris, and Menelaus-a beautiful woman fiercely desired by two powerful men, she either runs off with or is kidnapped by a prince, leading to her (soon to be) husband retaliating by starting a tragic war.

Stannis and Shireen as Agammemon and Iphegenia-a king and commander sacrifices his daughter to the gods to win a war. Bonus if this ends up causing Stannis’ downfall.

Lady Stoneheart as Demeter-a mother wanders the land bringing destruction and misery as she searches for her daughter(s.) When her daughters return to her, spring comes.

Cersei and Jaimes children as the emperor wearing no clothes-the emperor walks around naked insisting that he’s a wearing magic invisible outfit, but everyone is afraid to tell him the truth until finally a child points out that he’s wearing nothing at all. See: everyone pretending not to notice that Cerseis children are the result of incest with her brother, and Ned finally realizing the truth when his 11 year old daughter points out that Joffrey is nothing like Robert.

Bran as the Fisher King-the Fisher King is a character from Arthurian myth. He is the guardian of the magical holy grail, protecting it so it (and power) does not fall into the hands of the unworthy. Notably, he also has a deliberating injury to his legs or groin (depending on the version.) Of course the endgame Bran of the show is a blatant rip-off of Leto II from Children of Dune, but I think the Fisher King sounds more like GRRM would do.

Dany as Moses-a leader who has prophetic visions, who after performing a miracle, frees her people from slavery and leads them on a harsh journey to a new land. Notably regarded as a critically important figure by a monotheistic religion.

[shimaa20sblog]

Dear Friends ♥️🤍🖤💚

I write to you today with a heavy heart, from the suffering land of Gaza. The war that has invaded our lives has taken everything from me: my home, my stability, and even some of my loved ones. Our streets are empty, our homes are in ruins, and our dreams have vanished under the weight of the shells.

I cannot fully describe what we experience daily, but I feel as if I am writing from a heart in pain. Our children miss the safety, and our women carry burdens that never end. There is no water, no electricity, and no hope for a better tomorrow. With each passing moment, we live in an endless nightmare, our hearts shattered by loss and separation.

I need your help, for I have no hope but in your hearts. I ask you to extend a hand of support to me and my family, so we can overcome this ordeal. Every donation, no matter how small, could be a glimmer of hope in our dark lives.

Your solidarity can change our fate and restore some hope to us. I appeal to your humanity and brotherhood, for together we can face these challenges. Thank you from the depths of my heart for your support and solidarity.

With all my love💙🖤,

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@halalgirlmeg @im-smart-i-swear @wellwaterhysteria @bartholomew-junior @thecoffeedesk @dogbound1128 @stupid-dumb-bitch ... I need your help to ensure my message reaches as many people as possible. The war in Gaza has destroyed my life and dreams, and I believe there are those who can help me rebuild what I've lost. If you could share my story or support it, I would be very grateful. I want to be a voice for those who have none, and I need support and donations to achieve my dreams and return to my studies. Together, we can change reality and restore hope to those in need.

[xmalereader]

Leon S. Kennedy RE2R X Male Reader

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|| Masterlist ||

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Authors Note: IM ALIVE YOU SONS OF BITCHES and I bring you some porn. I want to apologize for the long hiatus that I had, but during my long ass break I was able to do some writing along with creating new ideas now that my era for Leon and Conner are back it’s possible that I will make many more crossovers between these two and more!!

Summary: Reader is a mafia leader who becomes attached to none other than Leon Kennedy after the new rookie saved his life.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, MDNI, blowjobs, RE2 Leon, sub Leon Kennedy, Dom reader, mafia leader, alcohol, possessive, manipulation, death, language, more plot than porn, mentions of murder, modern AU, no umbrella, no virus, rookie Leon, officer Leon, slight angst, some fluff too, slight dark theme, praise kink, good boy kink.

Word count: 2.6K

—

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Leon didn’t know how he ended up in this position, sharing the same bed with the cities most powerful and dangerous man ever of Raccoon City. He didn’t expect himself to spend passionate nights with a deadly man who will kill anyone wit

He met Y/n by accident. He was injured and alone in an alleyway, his torso held a bullet wound as he coughed up blood. It was pouring that night and Leon was on patrol when he found the man, slumped against the wall as he quickly helped him. Leon had no idea that the man he was helping was Raccoon City’s most feared mafia man. The leader of the brotherhood who caused trouble for the city but kept his work clean and hidden.

He had bandaged him up and carried him back to his place due to his patrol shift being over and living close to the area. He provided him a place to rest for the night until the next morning, Y/n was a lot better. He looked healthier and the bleeding had stopped, Leon had wanted to ask for his name or help him return home only for his apartment to be stormed in by men with guns out and pointed at him.

Y/n had stopped his own men from shooting his helper and demanding them to lower their guns. It only took Leon a few minutes to figure out who the man is, putting the pieces together Only to find out that the man sitting in his apartment was the most wanted man. Leon was in shock to even move or say anything as Y/n collected his things, thanked him and left with his men.

Leon didn’t hear from him again until two months later. He meets Y/n on accident again, bumping into him when arriving to the towns bar to get a drink due to the stressful day that he had and in hopes of finally relaxing only to find out that Y/n’s owned the bar and that he too, was relaxing on the same day as him.

Y/n knew not to mess with the RPD, but couldn’t help himself to approach the young officer and Introduce himself properly. He gives him his name and offers to buy him a drink which Leon kindly rejects until the other pushed on, convincing Leon to accept the offer as the two sat side by side at the bar.

Drinks in hand as the weather outside grew cloudy and rain began to pour. Leon knew how to control his alcohol, but due to todays stressful day he ended up drinking more than what he was suppose too. His tipsy self had automatically opened up to the Mafia leader, telling him about his past and the fact that his parents were murdered and that he was on his own. Telling him that his parents killer was never captured and how the police gave up on his investigation. He grew up wanting to be an officer of the law in order to help people.

Y/n felt sympathy for Leon, smiling sadly at the man as he removes the drink from his hands and replaces it with a glass of water. Leon was in pain and still grieved for his family along with blaming himself on the death of two cops that he befriended on his first day only to loose them that same week. It was during a shoot out that he lost his friends, causing his stomach to twist and fill with guilt.

After that he stopped asking for partners and rejected them, too afraid to lose another.

Y/n watched Leon spill his feelings and thoughts to him. Too drunk to probably remember the events tomorrow as he rambled away, getting the other man’s attention who listened closely. It wasn’t until the clock stroke midnight that Y/n helped Leon get back home, offering him a ride and driving in the silent car as the officer next to him leaned his head against the window.

Upon arriving to Leon’s apartment he’d help him inside and gently lie him down in bed. He’d also remove his gear and make sure that he’s comfortable. Before he passed out, Y/n had leaned down to whisper soft encouraging words to him, praising him for his hard work and reassuring him that the death of his partners wasn’t his fault.

Leon had already fallen asleep, giving the other man a glimpse of his vulnerability. After that night when Y/n returned back to his own home he couldn’t help but think about the young officer who had helped him and let him know about his past. The expression that Leon did when talking about his family and friends caused him to grow protective and perhaps a hint of possessiveness that the cop riled out of him.

The next few weeks end up with Leon receiving special intel from an anonymous user who gave him locations of drug labs along with criminals full names and background. He didn’t know what to think about and figured it was fake until he presented it to his director who looked into it and sent a team out to investigate while Leon was stuck behind a desk.

Imagine there surprise when the intel they received was true, bringing in multiple criminals with various evidence of their activity. Leon had given the file of evidence that sat on his desk a glance, eyes narrowed as he clearly knew who it came from. He didn’t tell anyone when he made his way to the bar, keeping his uniform hidden and entering the place. His eyes scanning the room until they land on Y/n who casually drank a glass of whiskey with his other comrades.

Without hesitation Leon had tossed the file on to the table towards him, getting Y/n’s attention.

Y/n eyes the file and sets his glass down.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” Leon asks while Y/n flipped through the file, turning to his men and clearing his throat. “Why don’t we discuss this somewhere else?” He collects the papers and comes to a stand, glass in hand as he drinks the last amount of alcohol before making his way towards the back where Leon followed.

“I’ll be in a meeting, make sure no one disturbs has.” Y/n had told two guards who stood at the entrance of his office door as they both nod in understanding.

When entering the office the minute the door closed behind him, Leon is quick to hold his gun out. Aiming his weapon at Y/n who leaned back against his desk, showing no signs of fear.

“Why give me this?” Leon asks, nodding towards the file in Y/n’s hand.

“I simply wanted to help.”

“Bullshit, the mafia doesn’t give a shit about this city.”

Y/n frowns. “This one does.” He tossed the file on his desk.

“What do you think I do here, Leon?” Y/n’s voice is full of venom as he pushed himself away from the desk, taking small steps forward and approaching Leon who takes hesitant steps back.

“I know that your a criminal and that you've killed many people. I know that you launder money and don’t care about the law.” Leon’s hand grips tight around his gun, heart racing as the other takes another step forward.

“I’m cleaning up the streets, I’m doing what your people can’t.” Y/n began to explain. “I’m making this place better by putting the bad people down and protecting those who need it.” He lifts his hand, fingers gently wrapping around the gun as his face softens. “I’m protecting people from experiencing a tragic death—just how you lost your parents.”

His words cause Leon to freeze in place.

“Do you really want people like that roaming freely?” Y/n lowers his gun, fingers moving up the gun and to Leon’s wrist where he pries the gun away from his hand. “I looked into your parents—I know that your upset because the man who killed your parents is roaming freely and continuing on his work. I know that the man who did it has killed more families after yours and faced no consequences because he was never captured.”

Leon gasps, feeling the others fingers grip his chin and facing him. “I can change that. Let me change that.” Y/n’s voice is soft and seductive. “Let me help you.” Leon can feel his warm breath against his face, the others eyes darting down to his lips before looking him in the eyes again.

Leon should be pushing back, pulling away from the man in-front of him only to cave in to his seductive words as the other swoops down to capture his lips in a deep kiss, catching Leon by surprise as he feels his warm tongue caress his lips open. Y/n’s hands are on his torso, pulling him closer, their chests pressed up against each other.

One minute, Leon is kissing the cities most wanted man and the next he’s bent over his desk while Y/n fucked him from behind, hands on either side of his head as he whispered praising words.

“Look at you, taking me in so well.”

“You’re perfect.”

“My good boy.”

“All mine.”

Leon had sobbed out a moan, pleasure coursing up and down his body as he allows the other man to do as he pleases, hitting all the right spots. Feeling a pair of warm lips, kissing and marking his neck as he picked up speed on his thrusts. Leon’s moans and whimpers echo around the office, ignoring the thought that the guards outside could hear everything.

Ever since that first day they spent together, Leon didn’t stop visiting.

Y/n’s men has grown concerned at the fact of an RDP officer visiting and knowing their location, worried that he would later turn his back against them and giving up their location. But, Y/n had reassured them that he kept Leon on a tight leash and will do anything to make sure that it wasn’t broken. He’d provide Leon names, locations, dates, deals, anything to keep him from betraying him and Leon never noticed his charisma.

Their relationship continued on for three years, enough time for everyone to know that Leon Kennedy was fully under Y/n’s control.

—

“Leon.”

Leon is startled by Y/n’s presence, upon entering his own apartment that Y/n had tried to convince Leon to sell and move in with him but the young officer had grown attached to his new home awhile back. Y/n knew that he couldn’t argue with Leon and allowed him to keep the apartment.

“What are you doing here?” Leon is quick to asks, eyeing the man up and down and taking in his appearance. He wore an all black suit, hair brushed in a proper way as he sat in his living room couch.

Y/n sighs softly and comes to a stand. “I’ve come to let you know that I am to be heading out on a business trip to France.”

“France?”

Y/n nods.

“What exactly is it? If you don’t mind me asking.” Leon questions, removing his shoes by the doorway and setting them aside before moving to his vest.

“I found out that my little brother has gotten himself into some trouble and must go to clean up his mess.” Y/n had rolled his eyes at the thought of his little brother causing a mess back in France, perhaps getting himself killed in the process which wouldn’t surprise Y/n by a lot. His brother was known to cause trouble, he was in charge of an assassins organization and wouldn’t be too worried if he found him dead due to him double crossing people on deals.

Instead he focused his attention on Leon, giving him a faint smile. “I’ll be back sometime next month.”

“A month?” Leon stumbled in his step, removing his pants as Y/n steps forward to keep him up right and chuckling. “Yes, my love. This business can end up taking some time and I want to spend as much time as I can with you.” He whispered his last few words, lips pressing up against his cheek and trialing down to his jaw.

Leon shudders under his touch, leaning into him as he sighs deeply against his neck.

“Y/n—“

“Don’t talk, just relax and let me take care of you. Let me hold you tonight before I leave.” He placed his hand behind Leon’s neck, fingers grazing against his jawline before pulling him into a kiss as Leon pressed up against him, lips slotting together in a perfect fitting form.

Leon felt Y/n’a hand slowly stroke down from his side, sensual heat spreading under his skin as Y/n lowered himself down to his knees, pushing him up against the wall. A gasp escaping between his teeth as Y/n’s spreads his thighs. Leon’s eyes widen, whining as he felt his fingers graze over his hard on.

“Shit, your adorable.”

He hears Y/n purr, pressing his face against his thigh, licking and biting until his fingers wrap around the waist hand, pulling his boxers down to free his hard on. Leon hissed, head falling back and can hear Y/n chuckling below him.

“Don’t hold back.” His hand is wrapped around his cock, giving him a few strokes before placing a kiss on his head, feeling him shutter and squirm under his grip as he smirked. He doesn’t wait to take in his length in a smooth sweep.

“Y—Y/n!” Leon’s eyes widen, hand balled into his hair as he threw his head back. He could feel y/m nose brushing up against his crotch, subtle but overwhelming all at once. The hot wet heat of Y/n’s mouth around his cock sending shockwaves of pleasure stuttering up his spine. The man sucked him off, humming pleasantly, and Leon could feel tears prickling the corner of his eyes, overwhelmed with sensation as Y/n held his hips down hard against the wall. “P-please, I’m—I’m not gonna—”

Y/n pulled off him with an obscene pop, grinning down at Leon as he looked up with him desperately.

“You can cum, it’s okay.” He said, making a show of licking his lips. He went back down on Leon, and the man bit his lip, hard, trying not to buck into Y/n’s mouth as he fought the noises escaping his mouth.

Suddenly he felt a wet finger brush against his entrance, and Leon’s eyes went wide. His orgasm ripping through him, hand gripping the receivers hair and bucking into his mouth, releasing his relief. Y/n bucked off him, chuckling to himself as he licks his lips and swallowed down his cum, cleaning his mouth with the back of his wrist and glancing up to Leon.

“Oh my god.” Leon breathed out, leaning against the wall as he pants. “That was—“ his face grows red, embarrassed to say anything else.

Y/n stands from where he kneels, brushing their noses together, hot breath against his lips as he pulls him. Their lips slotting together, Leon came taste himself on his lips and whines in pleasure, pulling away and licking his own lips. The man before him grins widely, fingers trailing up to grip the back of his neck.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

[hugebellyhoglover]

The Brotherhood of Girth

In a hidden corner of the old industrial district, behind an unassuming door marked only by the faintest engraving of a bear and a beer stein, stood a place known to only a select few. This was the Brotherhood of Girth—a private club, a sanctuary where men could gather in absolute freedom and comfort, without fear of judgment. Each member of the club was over fifty, bald, bearded, and as ruggedly masculine as they come. But the true bond that connected them ran far deeper, bound by a passion not often spoken of openly, at least not outside these walls.

Inside, a thick haze of smoke and the low rumble of laughter filled the air. The clink of steins, the frothy heads of dark ales, and the earthy scent of aged leather created an atmosphere unlike any other. These men weren’t here to discuss business or sports or politics. They were here for one reason: to indulge their love of immense, powerful, and beautifully round bellies—the kind that took years to cultivate and an unabashed appetite to maintain.

This was no ordinary club, and these were no ordinary men. They took pride in their appearance, each presenting himself like a monument of masculinity: broad, thick-shouldered, bearded, and proudly bald, embodying a rugged virility that seemed timeless. And yet, it wasn’t their imposing frames or fierce beards that brought them together. Their passion, their fascination, lay in the beauty of large, perfectly rounded guts—the bigger, the better. It was a shared joy, one that they celebrated with a camaraderie that was as open as it was intimate.

Every Thursday, they gathered, relishing the ritual as much as the act itself. As the evening progressed, they would settle into one of the club’s specially designed rooms, cozy but with plenty of space to accommodate their grand builds. Here, the men shared stories, ribbed each other good-naturedly, and toasted to the beauty of belly.

The evening would often begin with a few hearty burps, released freely as each man loosened his belt and leaned back, showing off the fruits of his labor. There were no airs to keep up, no need to stifle the sounds of satisfaction that came naturally after a hearty meal or a round of beer. In fact, these bodily exclamations were part of the charm, part of what made the place feel like home.

As the night settled in, the men began their ritual of sharing more than just drinks and stories. They took to displaying, admiring, and enjoying each other’s bellies with unrestrained enthusiasm. The warm amber glow of the club’s lamps cast a flattering light on their vast midsections, each one swollen and grand in its own unique way. Some bellies were taut and firm, others soft and inviting, but all were equally adored by the men who gathered to celebrate them.

In one corner, Big Jim reclined on a leather armchair, his expansive belly stretching out like a proud monument to his years of indulgence. His stein rested comfortably on the curve of his gut, which rose and fell with each hearty laugh. Next to him, Walt, known for the impressive girth he’d cultivated over the decades, placed a reverent hand on Jim’s belly, giving it a firm, friendly pat. A glint of admiration sparked in his eyes as he ran his hand over the tautness of Jim’s midsection.

“Jim, you’ve outdone yourself. That gut of yours has grown even more impressive since last week!” Walt said, his voice thick with genuine appreciation.

Jim grinned, lifting his stein in a toast. “Nothing but dedication to the craft, my friend,” he replied, letting out a deep burp that echoed around the room, met with a round of cheers and a few more burps in return.

Others gathered around, each man taking his turn to admire and even embrace Jim’s belly. There was no shame here, only a brotherly affection and a shared reverence for the hard work and dedication it took to grow such magnificent girths. Kneeling down, one of the newer members, Dave, gently pressed his hands to Jim’s belly, feeling its warmth and weight, his face alight with admiration. Dave, who had only recently achieved his own impressive gut, was thrilled to be a part of the tradition.

“You’re an inspiration to us all, Jim,” he murmured, his hands still pressed to Jim’s stomach.

Jim gave a hearty chuckle, reaching out to tousle Dave’s hair in a gesture both playful and affectionate. “Stick with it, kid. You’ve got potential.”

Meanwhile, in another corner, a circle had formed around Carl, whose belly had reached such a size that he’d become something of a club legend. The men gathered around him in awe, raising their mugs in salute to the sheer scale of his girth. Carl, always eager to put on a show, leaned back in his chair, resting his hands on his gut, and gave it a series of gentle pats that reverberated like a drum. He closed his eyes in contentment as hands reached out to stroke and admire, each man lost in appreciation.

There was something profoundly comforting about these gestures—this worship of the belly as both a symbol of pride and pleasure. For each man, his belly was a reminder of a life well-lived, a sign of indulgence, enjoyment, and the simple pleasures of food, drink, and camaraderie.

The night grew warmer as the men’s laughter and joy filled the room, their voices blending in a low, rolling melody that was as comforting as it was vibrant. At times, they would burst into hearty cheers, clinking their steins and downing their drinks, relishing the way each mouthful added just a bit more to the fullness of their guts. Some of the men enjoyed feeling the immediate bloat, the sense of their bellies expanding as they drank deeply, grinning at one another as their shirts grew tighter and their belts strained to accommodate the swell.

Those who had achieved the most impressive girths often became the focus of attention, their friends eager to touch, rub, and admire the results of years of dedication. Each embrace, each pat, each gentle rub was a testament to the mutual appreciation they shared. They were each, in their own way, sculptors of the human form, dedicated to the art of growing and glorifying the belly.

As the night wore on, they would gather in smaller groups, some kneeling in front of their friends to get a closer look at the curves and contours of each gut. There was something almost reverent in the way they treated each other’s bodies, like ancient artists admiring a sculpture. They would run their hands along the vast expanse of each belly, patting and rubbing, letting their admiration flow freely.

The room echoed with compliments and cheers, a round of laughter often punctuated by the sound of someone loosening their belt, or the sudden, unapologetic rumble of a burp or a fart. There were no pretenses here—just men who had found joy in the simple pleasures of life and weren’t afraid to show it.

Occasionally, they would share stories, each man recounting the meals, beers, and indulgences that had helped him grow his belly to its current glory. These tales were often told with a sense of pride, each man reliving the moments that had brought him closer to his goal. They spoke of rich feasts, late-night snacks, and the joy of sharing a drink with friends, each story painting a picture of a life spent in celebration of good company and good food.

And while they indulged in this ritual of admiration and affection, there was an undeniable sense of brotherhood that filled the room. They were more than just men with a shared interest—they were a family, bound by a love for life’s simplest pleasures and a commitment to living it to the fullest.

As dawn approached, the men gathered for one final toast. The air was thick with the smell of beer and the warmth of camaraderie, their bellies full and their spirits high. Raising their steins, they cheered to another night well spent, to the joys of brotherhood, and to the beauty of the belly.

“To the Brotherhood of Girth!”

[gffa]

Star Wars: From a Certain Point of View: Return of the Jedi | "Brotherhood" I NEED YOU TO UNDERSTAND THAT I STRAIGHT UP CRIED REAL TEARS AT THIS MOMENT. IT WAS EXACTLY WHAT I HAVE ALWAYS WANTED TO READ AND IT HIT ME RIGHT IN MY EMOTIONS. I was so wary going into this story, because the concepts of Force Ghosts are deeply important to me on a narrative level, that the Force and Lucas' philosphy in the movies and for the worldbuilding is that the message is: You need to let go when it's time. You can't hold on beyond anything or anyone's time, it will only cause you and others suffering. So, when Anakin's fiery determination seemed to be what kept him around as a Force ghost, I sighed a bit and kept shouldering on. I did not expect to be hit by the one-two-three-four punch of Obi-Wan's gentle guidance to get Anakin to the other side of the Force, Anakin's regret for what he'd done and the heart-wrenching way he instinctively turns to Obi-Wan and listens to him, Anakin looking on over his children with pride and faith in what they would do next, and then the ultimate message: "Finally, Anakin Skywalker let go." I AM EMOTIONAL. MY BOY FINALLY GOT TO THE PLACE THAT GAVE HIM PEACE. It was a perfect build-up to where Anakin needed to be in this moment, that this story is centered around the depth of his connection to Obi-Wan, that it's instinctual for him to reach out and grab onto the hand Obi-Wan is holding out to him, to turn to Obi-Wan and listen, like a flower turns towards the sun, now that he's out of the worst of the haze of the dark side. To seeing his children, seeing Padme in them, seeing both of them in the twins, and finally, finally letting all that noise in his head go. Trusting that Luke and Leia and their friends would make their own way forward. "It just took one final nudge from Obi-Wan to get there. Finally, Anakin Skywalker let go." What a perfect summation of Anakin's character and his difficult journey, his relationship with Obi-Wan, and one of the most central themes George Lucas intended for Star Wars. Becoming a Force Ghost is about letting go--Qui-Gon said that in the original ROTS script, he said it in TCW, the OWK show basically had the same message, and now Anakin has gotten there, too. That it acknowledged his part in everything that happened and did it with tremendous compassion, because that's what Jedi are all about. Obi-Wan has let go as well, he doesn't hang onto the hurt or the suffering, especially not when he will gain so much by letting go and embracing compassion for Anakin. He gently guides Anakin to understanding that he wasn't solely responsible for everything, only for the choices he made. Those choices were terrible, he bears that mark, they aren't erased just because Anakin is sorry, but holding onto all that guilt and pain is just more suffering. Obi-Wan has let go and, through that, he can guide Anakin to let go as well, and regain his friend. This is everything the Jedi have always taught coming to fruition. So, I'm emotional for my baby boy, that he finally got there after a lifetime of struggling, that he's finally at peace, and I'm emotional as a Star Wars fan, that the themes of my favorite franchise were just knocked out of the park.

[thewatcher727]

The Art of Dance Is Now Live!

The royal castle never ceased to amaze Silver every time he visited. The castle seemed as if it were sculpted by the very hands of gods, its towering spires and grand turrets looming like ancient sentinels guarding secrets untold. It was a place where dreams and reality danced together.

But this visit was different. As Silver sat in Blaze's royal bedroom, his fingers tracing the intricate patterns of the silken tapestries adorning the walls, he realized he had come at an interesting time

"So, what's the Celestial Yuletide?" Silver asked, his golden eyes locked on Blaze's every move.

Blaze stopped pacing with her back to Silver. She took a deep breath, steeling her nerves. "It's a yearly celebration held in the castle in celebration of Christmas," she explained. "People from all over the world gather to celebrate peace and cooperation."

Silver's head tilted, his eyes reflecting genuine curiosity. He had always been somewhat of a fish out of water in the Sol Dimension, where Blaze reigned as the princess and guardian of the realm. "So, it's a party?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of innocent intrigue.

From her vantage point, Blaze couldn't help but roll her eyes, a subtle smile playing at the corner of her lips. It was one of the endearing qualities of Silver that she cherished – his unwavering innocence. It was one of the reasons she enjoyed his company so much.

Blaze turned to face Silver, a faint sigh escaping her lips. "In a manner of speaking, yes."

Silver tilted his head once more, his quizzical expression revealing his lack of familiarity with the Sol Dimension's traditions. "Parties are supposed to be fun, right?" He recalled the chaos of Sonic's birthday during the Time Eater incident, wondering if this celebration would be similarly eventful. "So, what's the problem?"

Blaze gracefully settled into a nearby chair, her regal demeanor contrasting with the playful innocence of Silver. "Silver, when I attend these celebrations, there are always the occasional suitors who seek to catch my attention," she explained with a hint of weariness in her voice. "It's a rather trying experience, having to navigate their advances and manage their expectations."

Silver's eyes widened in understanding. He might not have been well-versed in the ways of royal gatherings, but the concept of unwanted attention was something he could grasp. As he considered Blaze's predicament, he couldn't help but feel a surge of protectiveness toward his best friend.

Silver's face took on an adorable twist as he furrowed his brow, deep in thought. His large, expressive eyes blinked slowly as he pondered, and his lips formed a subtle pout. His quills, normally neatly arranged, seemed to ruffle and quiver with each passing idea that flickered through his mind. He looked like an overgrown child trying to solve a puzzle.

In his mind, Silver ran through all the scenarios where he could be of assistance to Blaze. She was undoubtedly a formidable guardian of the Sol Dimension, capable of wielding flames and handily dispatching any threat. The castle itself was fortified with scores of loyal royal guards, making physical protection redundant.

Then, like a bolt of lightning, an idea struck him. Silver leaped to his feet, and his boots produced a soft, almost playful sound against the floor. "I've got an idea!"

Blaze's ears and tail twitched with momentary surprise at Silver's sudden enthusiasm. She raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. Arms crossed, she watched as Silver's golden eyes gleamed with determination.

"Idea?" she inquired, her voice tinged with curiosity.

Silver nodded vigorously, his quills bouncing with his excitement. "Why don't I come with you? You know, like a companion!" His suggestion hung in the air, and he awaited Blaze's response with a hopeful smile, fully aware that he couldn't offer physical protection but eager to provide moral support and be there for his dear friend in her time of need.

Continue Reading:

FanFiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14310640/1/The-Art-of-Dance

Archive of Our Own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52520977

[teecupangel]

Colossal Squid! Desmond and I'll give you my bones

“Have you heard the legends of the Kraken, Shay?”

“Every sailor has.” Shay answered politely, glancing at their guest.

Even as bitter wind gripped its claws at them, Haytham Kenway looked as prim and proper as a gentleman on his way to watch an opera.

Shay, on the other hand, had pulled the fabric around his neck up to cover his freezing nose.

“And do the stories tell of the Kraken a monster that destroys without any care of one’s status or upbringing?”

“The sea is a cruel mistress to all, Master Kenway.” Shay answered, glancing to his right. Gist just shrugged, obviously also a bit confused to why Haytham Kenway was talking about the Kraken all of a sudden.

“Yes, she is.” Haytham agreed as he walked towards the bow of the ship, “But the Kraken is not cruel.”

“He is playful and intelligent. He also has the habit of trying to show his displeasure using his limbs.” Haytham continued, making the other crew members stare at him, forgetting their tasks as they listened to a man who sounded like he knew the Kraken himself, “But above all else…”

“He is one ugly squid.” Haytham commented.

They would have laughed at that but the waters beneath them grew dark almost immediately.

Large tentacles rose from the depths and the crew shouted in fear and surprise.

Shay immediately ordered them to main the cannons but stopped when Haytham said, “It is no use. Human weaponry does not work on him.”

Shay froze, noticing that what he had thought to have been sunlight against the tentacles was actually…

Glowing lines that reminded Shay of the light of that device back in Lisbon.

For a brief moment, Shay was paralyzed, the fear and pain of that day flashing before him.

Haytham was still speaking and Shay tried to focus on his voice.

Haytham wasn’t there in Lisbon.

Shay wasn’t there in Lisbon anymore.

Haytham was his anchor to the present.

“The Kraken is what those who know nothing call him. The Templars though… had a different name for him.” Haytham continued calmly, as if the ship had not been kept in place by tentacles coiling all around it. There was no creaking sound and that only made Shay more frightened.

The Kraken knew how to control its strength so it wouldn’t damage the ship, only keep it immobilized.

That kind of intelligence…

“Desmond.”

Shay frowned.

Where have he heard the name before?

“The sea monster that Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad tamed. The ruler of the seas that cares for the Assassin Brotherhood.”

That’s right.

Shay heard Adéwalé talked about a ‘Desmond’ before. Shay had thought it was some kind of pet because Adéwalé talked about how it followed his old friend whenever he sailed.

One of the tentacles reach out towards Haytham and Shay shouted, “Master Kenway!”

Haytham raised a hand, stopping Shay from unsheathing his dual blades.

“Do not move, do not speak, do not even think.” Haytham ordered calmly, “He is here for me.”

“Will this be the day you drag me into the depths, Desmond?” Haytham asked, a slight curiosity in his tone, “Or will you still prolong this dance we share?”

The tentacle wrapped around his neck but, with how big the tentacle was, it wrapped his entire upper body instead.

Haytham didn’t seem worried, looking at the sea below as he stood at the very tip of the bow, “Well?”

Shay and the rest of the crew could only stare, frozen by fear and confusion, as Haytham was slowly lifted.

… before he was placed in the center of the ship. The tentacles uncoil around him slowly. There was a pause before it flicked Haytham’s hat off and Haytham simply gave a tired sigh.

The tentacles let go of the ship and returned to the depths of the sea.

It took a few seconds before the water returned to its normal color.

The entire crew gave out a relieved sigh as many of them fell on their asses.

“Master Kenway, what was that?” Shay asked and all of them turned to stare at the mysterious man as he picked up his hat.

“That was Desmond.” Haytham said as if he was just introducing a family friend he didn’t get along with, “The Sea Scourge of the Templars. He attacks every ship that shows its Templar affiliation. He won’t attack this ship though.”

“It won’t?” Shay couldn’t stop himself from sounding skeptical.

“As long as I sail with you, he will not.” Haytham said.

“Why?”

“Because that squid still believes I am my father’s son.”

[yuesya]

Even despite it currently being nighttime, it’s not dark at all. Glowing streetlights and neon signs merge together to form a kaleidoscopic whirl of riotous colors illuminating the world around them, all polished streets and sleek roads. If one strains and listens, there’s a soft whirring in the background, the sound of cars speeding along the winding roads of the highway.

Firefly takes a moment to gaze outwards and appreciate the sight. After all, once the Stellaron Hunters have finished their work on Jepella, there’s no doubt that this scene would be replaced by fire and smoke instead. This city would be overcome with fear and terror, in wake of the chaos that would follow the fall of the Jepella Brotherhood.

But nonetheless, the Stellaron Hunters would continue moving forward.

Firefly withdraws her gaze from their current surroundings, returning her attention to the companions currently sitting together with her in the car. Blade is in the driver’s seat, eyes fixed on the road while both hands rest upon the steering wheel. Shiki is sitting in the back, hands folded neatly in her lap and eerily still. Blue eyes stare forward evenly without even once turning to take in their surroundings –even though Firefly knows for a fact that this is Shiki’s first time setting foot in Jepella.

… It would be nice if Silver Wolf was here, but unfortunately the younger girl is otherwise occupied in this operation. Blade and Shiki are the least talkative members of the Stellaron Hunters, and while this isn’t a mark against them or anything… it does make for a long car ride.

Firefly doesn’t consider herself to be a chatty, socially-canny conversationalist. Compared with the two sitting in the car with her, though, she might as well be a social butterfly.

“I never knew that you could drive before,” Firefly says to Blade, casting about for idle conversation to fill the long stretch of silence.

Neither of the two other Stellaron Hunters so much as even twitch, but at least Blade responds with a small grunt of assent in acknowledgment of her words.

Silence reigns inside the car once more.

“… Do you have a driver’s license?”

“Yes.”

Progress! He’s responding with words now. “That’s surprising.”

“Why?” Blade slants a brief glance at her, before returning his attention to the road. “Because this is Jepella, the City of Sins?”

“Mm, no, it’s nothing.” Firefly wonders when he had the time to go and get a driver’s license, considering that the Stellaron Hunters were all wanted criminals. The thought of Blade showing up and being tested on his practical driving skills by a proctor is amusing… even though in all likelihood, it was probably Silver Wolf who’d made all the necessary preparations and arrangements. Pity. “You haven’t slept in twenty system hours, though. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

“I’m fine. I won’t die from this.” Firefly is aware that Blade is effectively immortal, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t accrue mental fatigue just as any other person would. He doesn’t seem like he’s tired, but it’s hard to get a proper read on him.

… Shiki, too.

Kafka is the only one who can tell what the two of them are thinking, but Kafka is in the Jepella Palace right now.

Firefly cranes her neck and turns around in her seat to glance at the other girl in the car, “How are you feeling, Shiki?”

“… Alright.”

Inwardly, Firefly cheers. When they’d first picked Shiki up from her barren homeworld, the girl had been… not very responsive at all, to say the least. Questions and attempts at making conversation were met with silence more often than not. And despite her physical presence on the ship, oftentimes it almost felt as if her mind was elsewhere.

Elio is very careful with her, and Shiki’s role on most of the Stellaron Hunters’ missions tends to be observation more often than not. It has to do with her abilities –her eyes and what she can see with them, Firefly knows. Abyssal blue eyes, ringed with a red-violet, prismatic glow. Very beautiful, and also very deadly.

… There’s a faint sheen to them that’s almost glittery, too, like stardust. Firefly doesn’t think that this shimmer used to be there in the beginning, but it’s a little hard to say for certain.

She should probably ask Kafka or Elio about it, once this mission is over.

[unironicallytes]

HELLO EVERYONE I HAVE SOME THINGS TO SAY ABOUT ASTRID!!!

(Discussion and sharing of thoughts encouraged even if they're opposing viewpoints, please join me in the sandbox)

In working on Dear Brother's timeline, I've been revisiting a lot of the canon even around the Skyrim era, and I find Astrid so much more compelling and sympathetic nowadays. I used to dislike her a lot, because I was coming fresh off of Oblivion and also hadn't deep-fried my brain in lore yet. I was playing the Skyrim DBh with @orfeoarte last night and we got to talking about her again, specifically about how she's probably having a crisis of faith during the game.

Like, in thinking about the entire Dark Brotherhood questline from Astrid's perspective ... she's the matron of the last Sanctuary. They haven't had a Listener since 4E188 - that's 14 whole years without a religious leader, organizational leader, or any of the Black Hand for that matter. (As far as I can tell, Rasha sounded like a Speaker from Cheydinhal, and he lasted until 4E189 according to Cicero's journals.)

Basically, up until this point, Falkreath stayed functional due to Astrid's leadership alone, and Astrid herself went through that bearing the knowledge that their gods had probably abandoned them. That's a lot to deal with. Imagine the absolute inner turmoil of turning your back on the Brotherhood's religion, because there's no point in holding to a spiritual leader that refuses to lead. Maybe Astrid had spent a few of those 14 years mourning, wondering why she'd received no guidance; but eventually, she had to amputate that part of herself and move on because no one else was going to do it for her. She would've needed to focus on the survival of the order that was left, rather than cling to the ashes of the one that was dead and gone. Besides, the latter seems to have collapsed in on itself because the Hand couldn't even agree on how to move forward, so why would she follow their lead?

All that being said, 14 years pass, Astrid keeps it together, keeps the last remaining family together ... then suddenly out of fucking nowhere, Cicero shows up with the Night Mother herself, spouting the old ways. A bit jarring, a bit poor taste - it's not his fault, he has no idea what this Sanctuary might have been through. He hasn't interacted with family members at all for these 14 years, and he probably expected them to be exactly as he remembered them. And then, barely any time into Cicero's arrival, the Night Mother finally chooses someone, and it's Astrid's newest recruit.

Like, how dare she, after all these years of abandonment? Wouldn't that infuriate you? In Astrid's eyes, the Night Mother hasn't done shit for her. No wonder Astrid's immediate reaction and tone is basically "are you fucking kidding me" followed by "I need time to process this." It makes a lot of sense that she resists the return to tradition, both from a leadership level and from a personal level. No wonder she shatters through Tenet 1 in front of Cicero and everyone, no wonder she tries to get you removed from the equation, too.

Extremely interesting character right there!!! I am spinning her on the microwave plate-- ..... ....... ah, well, uh. I suppose the Penitus Oculatus did that already, poor choice of words.

[monochromatic-ahhhh]

i don't think i'm understanding this correctly but here are some shower thoughts on that Nine-Headed guy and Macaque's powers (lmk S5 spoilers)

"Wukong, come on! We are old enemies! We're old friends, too. You just don't remember."

This line is bugging me. Is he saying this because he knows Wukong forgot or does it have something to do with a past life?

Becauseee how did he get to see "chaos beyond"?

His explanation of being able to "get out" no matter which choice MK makes leads me to think that chaos is reachable through an "end of the world that needs the pillars" thing.

I don't know how many times the world did a "cycle", but I wonder if he was once a sacrifice like MK (and he knows Wukong in that world ????), and he was able to see chaos because of it?

IT IS A STRETCH but if not as a sacrifice, then something related to that? Maybe that's why he knows how to "end the world", feels so strongly about letting MK have a life and make his own choice, and why he seems mad at Nüwa.

Maybe this is where that deal with his powers comes in?

Something that gives him back his life (memories?) at some point in the sacrifice so he can return to the people and convince them to jOIn the DaRk side?

"That power. Who gave that to you? Who'd you make a deal with?"

Though, he seems to be referring to deals that give power instead of life here so maybe he was not a sacrifice perse. However, HIS QUESTION.

The only deal I could think of related to Macaque is with LBD, and that had something to do with "return[ing him] to the mortal plane."

Plus, I think we've seen Macaque with his powers before the deal? Like, breakup scene

did he not?? always have that???

Then again, we haven't really seen much of past Macaque using his powers (i think this scene was the only?? instance??), so did he get this after the Brotherhood? To be able to teleport to Wukong who's trapped under the mountain?

Or maybe for that overthrowing attempt? Maybe he felt the need to be stronger too, so Macaque made a deal to get shadow powers.

And because it wasn't originally his power, he couldn't control it during the time of his fight with Wukong so the shadows swallowed??? him up??

Anw I don't know about green guy's chaos thing (or his charac in the book srry), I'm just curious as to why Wukong doesn't remember. What does he not remember?

Either: (a) it's not that important, (b) guy's referring to a past cycle he remembers (????), or (c) guy is so irrelevant that Wukong forgot about him fr