#slay of the century it must be said

[aintnoiinteam]

YOU SHOULD'VE SAID NO, BABY

AND YOU MIGHT STILL HAVE ME

[dailyadventureprompts]

Encounter: The Bridgebuilder's Impasse

Frustrated with interruptions to the flow of commerce, a local caravan magnate has hired your party to slay the giant who's repeatedly destroyed the bridge spanning a turbulent river causing delays and costly detours across the realm. The one wrinkle to this otherwise straightforward mission is that the giant is the one who built the bridge in the first place, and rather than hunting a rampaging monster you and your companions have signed on to assassinate a beloved local artisan.

Whoever said “two heads are better than one” never met the giant Gilbult Gultib (or Gultib Gilbult, as he often insists) who far more embodies the adage “Every artist is their own worst critic”.  Immensely talented in stonecutting and engineering, Gilbult (or Gultib depending on who you ask) has been building and rebuilding the same bridge for the better part of two centuries, sometimes letting it stand for a generation, sometimes scrapping it and starting over several times over the course of the same month. 

With a perfectionist streak as wide as the river he's trying to cross, neither head can agree how, muchless when the bridge should be finished, agreeing only that what came before will be insufficient going forward and that they must return to the drafting board once again.

Adventure Hooks:

The locals are of divided opinion about Gultib Gilbult, most regard him as something of a curiosity, as much a fixture of the landscape as the river itself, while others see him as a gruff but otherwise pleasant neighbour or family friend. There's a very vocal minority that wish that he would get on with building the bridge, or else move and leave the maintenance to someone who won't tear it down on a whim, especially the merchants who end up paying an arm and a leg on unexpected barge fees. There's been an uptick in those actively calling for the giant to be driven off, all of which just so happen to be in the pay of the local quarry owner, who's in talks with the Caravan magnate about the construction of a tollbridge in the near future.

Having reached a new low of indecision, the giant has resulted to gambling with himself to decide the composition of this version of the bridge, anteing particular stones against himself in the hope that luck and strategy will let the superior side of his mind win out. This is just as much a stalemate as any other, but may present an opportunity for the party to resolve the situation without violence.

The tricky thing about accepting adventuring contracts from successful merchants is that they're VERY good at paperwork, and while this one did come with a sizeable advance, the fine print threatens numerous penalties (including debt and possible outlawing) if the party don't fulfill their end of the bargain and take out the giant in a timely manner.

Artist

[gallifreyanhotfive]

Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 39

Tw: there's a lot of suicide/ideation in this one for some reason and I'm not sure why, it just ended up that way I guess???

Braxiatel once transmuted himself into a crystal. Maggie said he had turned himself into that stone because he needed some "me time" without being disturbed by anything. (Audio: The Empire State)

Agatha Ellis got pregnant after having sex with an alien and was committed to a mental institution for talking about it. Because she kept trying to kill the unborn child, she was kept drugged. Eventually, the Sixth Doctor started to visit her often and said he would help her, giving her a couple of drops in her water every night. One time, he forgot to take the bottle of drops with him after fighting off the alien father, and Agatha took all the drops in the bottle at once, started a letter, but died before she finished it. (Short story: Curtain Call)

When Dot Smith-Smith, who had become telepathic after being infected with a psychic virus, read the Seventh Doctor's mind, she was driven to an almost catatonic state by what she saw. (Novel: SLEEPY)

The small, yellow flower that the Hermit had showed a young First Doctor when he was having a moment of despair and depression is called a sarlain. (Novel: Timewyrm: Revelation)

A girl named Peggy once met the Third Doctor, who helped free an alien race from a graphaphone. Peggy's mother, who was staying with her at the Grainger house for Christmas, was named Louisa Pollard, and she was at the time pregnant with a girl who would be named Charlotte. (Short story: Echoes)

Victoria Waterfield eventually has a husband and a child with a grandchild on the way. She never told them about her TARDIS adventures or the fact that she was from the 19th century. (Audio: The Great Space Elevator)

Braxiatel once ran over Steven Taylor with a skimmer and thought that he looked like a rat. (Novel: The Empire of Glass)

In order to impose order on an otherwise irrational universe, the Time Lords are said to have created logic, and as a last act to rid the universe of such irrationality, Rassilon had each Time Lord cast out the irrational part of their very souls, which became a gestalt entity called the Carnival Queen. (Novel: Christmas on a Rational Planet)

Morgan Sturgess was researching ways to eliminate diseases with the Utopia project. One day, the Seventh Doctor arrived and told him he must destroy the project because the government would not use it with the same good intentions Morgan had. The Doctor left Morgan with a small bomb to destroy the Utopia project with. Morgan used it to destroy the project and kill himself, and the Doctor slipped away as all the emergency vehicles started to arrive. (Short story: Utopia)

An early draft of Macbeth had three additional characters named the Doctor, Jamie, and Zoe in it. They traveled in a ship capable of traversing time itself. They were excluded for reasons such as "staging, dramatic unity, and plausibility," but in the final draft, their characters were split into several other characters including the three witches and Banquo's murderers. (Short story: The True Tragedie of Macbeth)

Steven Taylor was heavily implied to kiss Christopher Marlowe, and Marlowe certainly flirted with him a lot. (Novel: The Empire of Glass)

Christopher Marlowe also happened to be a Cousin of the Faction Paradox. (Short story: Raleigh Dreaming)

The First Doctor sought out the Hermit near the end of his life because he was afraid of regeneration and needed assistance. The Hermit told him the story of the Penultimate Evil, in which a hero becomes a warrior and works his way up from minor evils to the Penultimate Evil. The Penultimate Evil died an anticlimactic death, and so the hero was left without purpose in his life. Distressed, the hero received a sword to slay the Ultimate Evil - likely himself - with. The Hermit said he didn't have a sword the Doctor could use but gave him back his diary instead. (Short story: The Three Paths)

After learning that Davros had stolen his memories and hurt his friends, the Eighth Doctor felt so much despair and anger that he almost used a virus that would have not only killed every single being on Earth but also killed himself. (Audio: Terror Firma)

In the ancient Old Time of Gallifrey, Gallifreyans possessed a communal hive mind and worshipped the Menti Celesti. Few individuals had the ability to have private thoughts against the Gallifreyan hive mind and were revered as Gallifreyan Heroes. (Short story: Gallifrey - Notes on the Planet's Background)

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[mother-above]

The Golden Warrior | Chapter 3

Azriel x Reader

Summary: To you, love was a poison that slowly killed. It was something that could make the strongest of warriors and leaders weak and vulnerable. You had successfully evaded romance and relationships for a century until the day you realized it had been plaguing you from within.

Chapters: 3/?

Words: 4.5k

Warnings: suggestive, 18+, violence, and swearing

*masterlist*

a/n: thank you for reading! please lmk what you guys think! xx

Chapter 3

  The moment Night Court winnowed out, you and Thesan made a beeline to his office. You settled onto a seat and propped your feet onto his desk as he plopped onto the leather chair with a huff. Thesan took a moment to check on the wards before he spoke out loud.

  “Did you find out what they want? Rhysand was being such a hard-ass and gave nothing away. All we talked about were treaties and half the time-,” said Thesan as he poured himself a drink. “I was trying to get his interest away from the Golden Warrior.”

 You thought about telling Thesan about the library incident, but you quickly dismissed it. Despite the Night Court being sneaky bastards, you realized that they were a powerful ally you couldn’t afford to lose. If Thesan had heard about the other events, he would undoubtedly wage war. He and the other High Lords had spilled blood for less, so it was in your best opinion to keep your mouth shut.

“A few days after Amarantha was killed, they felt a powerful surge of magic coming from Dawn Court. We must have been so distracted when you came home, that the wards you put up vanished or relaxed. It doesn’t help that I’d been forgetting to wear my jewels and must’ve weakened my hold on my magic in that period of relaxation,” you told him. “When we re-did the wards on the Palace in preparation for the Night Court, we probably fixed the wards that have kept my power hidden.”

Thesan paled as his eyes grew distant in thought. “Shit,” he said. “Ever since you were young, I’ve always helped you dampen your power. I can’t believe I forgot about it—fuck, I’m so sorry Y/n.” Guilt and concern flowed through his body and before he could freak out about his mistake, you reached over and grasped his arm. His glow dimmed as he looked at your hand, “I’m so sorry, no one was ever supposed to feel your power.”

“Don’t forget that I’m a grown female and have successfully protected the Palace and our territory for almost fifty years. I think I’ve proved that I can hold my own,” you said. “Besides, I’m partially at fault because being half-High Fae makes it hard to control my powers.”

“I wished you never had to go through that,” whispered Thesan. You just shrugged at him and smiled. What’s done is done. There were things you never told Thesan, but he found out through the other Peregryns and his sparrows when he returned from Under the Mountain. Some Fae had used the absence of Thesan as an excuse to run rampant and do whatever evil they wanted. It was you who punished and executed whenever it was necessary.

Every single day he was underneath that mountain his first thought would be of you, wondering how you were faring without him, Callon, and the others. He glanced at the scars that ran parallel to your cheekbone, a reminder of those horrid claws that hurt you. When Thesan first heard the story of how the Bogge had slashed through your golden helmet, he shuddered. High Lords were usually the only faerie powerful enough to kill a Bogge but when you told him you managed to slay it, pride and concern filled him. He made sure you were a fierce warrior, but to kill a Bogge… the extent of your magic scared him. In a way, it was better that Amarantha had no idea of your existence. If she caught a whiff of your power and what you could do, there was a good chance everyone in Prythian and the Continent would be under her rule.

You removed the glamour from the necklace to reveal brightly glowing sapphires, the power thrumming and threatening to break free. “While we’re on the topic of controlling my magic—I think I need more jewels.”

Thesan swore as he took a piece of paper and wrote down instructions to Nuan, his best tinkerer, to make you a new necklace with more siphons. With a wave of his hand, the note vanished and appeared on top of Nuan’s worktable.

“It seems Nuan got the idea of storing my power in jewels from the Illyrians,” you continued. “Azriel told me they call them Siphons too; they use it a little differently, but they have similar functions.”

The High Lord of Dawn nodded, his thoughts filled with concern over you and your magic. You were the second-best healer in all of Prythian, ranked behind your cousin. The two of you possessed the power to heal, to stop healing, and to reverse it. While Thesan was a divine and all-powerful High Lord, what made you special was your ability to poison and plague. Thesan and your parents first discovered your dark abilities when you were about 10 years old. You liked to sneak around the palace and one day you overheard an adult insult your High Fae mother for marrying a Peregryn warrior and supposedly ‘staining the High Lord’s bloodline’. The fae started calling your father slurs and before you realized it, you lifted your tiny glowing hands towards the fae and wished a horrible death. You can still remember the screams as the fae’s insides started liquifying, blood coming out of every orifice. That was when Thesan and your parents realized how powerful and dangerous you were. There were evil beings out there who would love to mold a young and impressionable fae. Thesan refused to let his little cousin be taken advantage of, so he made sure you learned to control your powers and knew how to defend yourself.

***

Days passed and so far, there was no major news from Night Court or any of the others. Things were quiet and no shadows were spotted in the halls of the Palace. Nuan had made you a brand-new necklace with 5 large blue sapphires, the biggest stone was in the middle with the other slightly smaller sapphires flanking each side. Putting it on immediately helped the restless energy that thrummed through your body, you couldn’t wait for the day you no longer had to suppress your magic.

You’ve been having dreams that interrupt your sleep, some good and some bad. The nightmares varied, sometimes they were about the creatures or faeries you killed during Amarantha’s reign, your parent’s death, or Thesan dying Under the Mountain. They always felt realistic, so whenever you woke up, it would take a few minutes for you to gather yourself and realize that it was all a dream. The worst hyper-realistic dream you had was when you dreamt of the Bogge and how its claws kept slashing into your golden helmet until it finally reached your skin. You dreamt about fighting half-blind as blood had spilled into your eye. The pain was so real and visceral, that you woke up screaming and clutching the side of your face. Thesan and Callon heard the commotion and because all bed chambers were warded against winnowing, they sprinted to your room. Callon barged in brandishing a sword until he realized you weren’t in danger. He stayed to help calm you while Thesan went to the kitchen to make you molten chocolate.

You were doing some paperwork in your office when a large yawn split your jaw. Another yawn followed and you sagged into your leather chair. You almost wished it was one of your usual nightmares, but last night’s dream was different. You dreamt of a child that you’d never seen before. The room was so dark, it had to be a cellar of some sort, somewhere underground. The soft moonlight that seeped through a caged window was the only source of light. It was a little boy who couldn’t have been more than 8 years old, it was hard to tell because you couldn’t see his face. He was hunched in the corner holding his little hands to his chest. You could have sworn you saw wings behind him, but it was so dark you couldn’t be sure. That was all you remembered from the dream, but it was enough to horrify you. Who could do that to a child? From the looks of it, it seemed like he spent most of his time in that dark place.

You woke up with a start and immediately turned on the faelights, you prayed to the Mother that this was some awful fiction your traumatized brain made up. If this little boy was real, your heart shattered for him. You didn’t get a wink of sleep after that, you kept the faelights on and waited for dawn to arrive.

***

The mysteriousness of Dawn Court was something that consumed Azriel’s thoughts, he reasoned that he couldn’t shake off that feeling of that dark dominating magic. If he was being honest with himself, it was you who his mind kept coming back to. He wasn’t sure why he kept thinking of you, was it your beauty or that incredibly confusing personality of yours? All his interactions with you made his heart flutter either from the smile you’d send him or from the anxiety that shot up when you were confrontational.

Rhys kept him busy with missions and he was more than thankful to do something that kept his mind off you. Whenever he was home in Velaris, that was when things were getting confusing for Azriel. To Azriel, Morrigan was the epitome of female beauty, someone who was strong yet elegant. He has spent 500 years fighting by her side, being her friend, and loving her. He was sure Mor knew that he loved her and unfortunately for him, she never acknowledged it. Azriel wasn’t surprised, how could someone like Mor who was Night Court royalty ever love someone like him? A bastard Illyrian?

Last night, Mor wore a revealing backless dress, Azriel would normally look away to avoid looking at her smooth skin but this time, Azriel stared. He was looking at Mor’s exposed back but not in a sexual way, he was looking because he noticed the lack of muscle and how different you were from Mor. The shadowsinger observed that you favored backless dresses and tops, there were the only things you wore during the Night Court’s stay at Dawn. It was hard not to glance at your body, you were athletic, strong, and incredibly feminine. You were so beautiful even Rhysand had taken his time to appreciate your powerful figure. When he first saw the sun-kissed skin and the dips near your shoulder blades and spine, Azriel felt his heart skip a beat. For a split second, he imagined what it would look like to see you arch and writhe beneath him. He remembered how his eyes widened and his heartbeat skyrocketed, he usually never thought of females he just met in such a lustful manner—or at least not immediately.

Azriel was shocked, he had never ever compared anyone to Mor. Feeling strange and annoyed that you were consuming most of his thoughts, Azriel drank multiple cups of wine and even let Mor convince him to join the rest of the Inner Circle for a night out at Rita’s. While his friends were dancing, Azriel sat by himself in their private booth, the music and drinks did little to distract him. His shadows swarmed around as he thought of how perplexing you were, how your sweet twinkling eyes could instantly turn cold and unnerving. He thought about sending his shadows to spy on you, but he stopped himself, you had the incredible talent of catching him when he was trying to be discreet. If you caught him one more time, he had no doubt you’d come for him in a violent rage.

He watched Mor and Cassian dance together; the Illyrian took Mor’s hands and spun her around as she threw her head back and laughed. It was a sound that Azriel loved to hear. The memory of Azriel holding you as he flew up in the sky flashed in his mind. You were happy and relaxed, your laughs sounding like the chime of bells. Shaking his head, the shadowsinger lifted the glass cup to his lips and took a long drink. Amber liquid burned down his throat and he sighed as he let the shadows entirely consume him.

***

You were eating breakfast with Thesan in one of the courtyards when one of your spies briskly walked toward you. Kerina was half Fae and half water wraith; she was one of your best and had a stern demeanor to her. Kerina bowed to Thesan before handing you her report papers, before you could thank her, she turned to address both you and Thesan.

“I have confirmation that Summer Court had sent 3 blood rubies to the Night Court. My sources are saying that they were addressed to High Lord Rhysand, Feyre Cursebreaker, and Amren.”

Thesan’s eyebrows raised but your jaw fully dropped.

“High Lord Tarquin sent out blood rubies? As in the death sentence rubies?” you exclaimed, wanting Kerina to confirm.

She nodded, “Correct. The water wraiths are telling me that two females had stolen something in one of their ocean vaults. If you need anything else, you know where to find me, my lady.”

Kerina departed and you were finally able to show your true shock to Thesan. You threw your hands in the air and the High Lord laughed.

“I can’t believe the sweet and handsome Tarquin sent Night Court those rubies. Whatever they stole… it must be so precious and important for Tarquin to declare them mortal enemies.”

Thesan looked at you with a sly smile.

“What?”

“I think you’re forgetting that Tarquin is still a High Lord, he may be young and a little naive but he’s the newest and youngest, he has to establish his dominance,” explained Thesan. “Besides, not everyone has had the pleasure to bed and be in Tarquin’s good graces.”

Last month, you had to personally deliver some documents and reestablish court alliances with Summer for Thesan. Since you had to hide your wings and suppress your magic, you became extremely restless. You wore the necklace, but it only helped for a few hours. Tarquin was a charming flirt, and it took him two days to convince you to sleep with him. The High Lord of Summer was attractive, and his personality was just as lovely, the only reason why you were hesitant was that you thought it wouldn’t be appropriate since you were Thesan’s 2nd. You quickly discovered that Tarquin did not mind at all.

You remember the energy in your body made everything feel like static, and the day your resolve faded, you returned Tarquin’s flirtatious advances. You kissed him and then you were suddenly sprawled on his expansive war table with the High Lord of Summer between your thighs. Tarquin took you on the table, his desk, and on the wall, right next to a large map of Prythian. Activities were moved to his bed chambers and that was where you rode him till—

“Ahem,” said Thesan as he cleared his throat. “Can you stop? I can scent you right now, it’s disgusting.”

Your eyes snap up at him, surprised that you had zoned out. Thesan was smirking and you threw a piece of a croissant at him. You wished you never indulged in what happened between you and Tarquin. Scowling, you shifted in your seat and gulped down some juice.

“He’s a good male, I wouldn’t be opposed if this was something you want to pursue in the future,” said Thesan. “I want you to be happy.”

Scoffing, you rolled your eyes for the second time that day. “You know how I feel about relationships. No, thank you. Besides, we agreed that it was a one-time thing that didn’t mean anything. We’re friends and will stay friends.”

Thesan shrugged. “One day you’ll take back everything you say about relationships. You’ll meet someone who is going to knock you off your feet, maybe one day you’ll be cauldron blessed and find your mate.”

You didn’t even answer with words, you just grunted in annoyance. You were never going to change your stance against relationships and romance. Your biggest secret, something Thesan doesn’t even know is you hoped you would never meet your mate. It would save you all the pain and effort of rejecting them.

Later that day you were sitting in your office with Kerina’s report spread out in front of you. Azriel hinted that there was something big happening in Prythian, so you had the spies do some digging and report anything strange happening in Prythian and surrounding countries. So far, there have been only menial land disputes and some horrible management of the dark creatures in the borderlands between Spring Court and the Wall. Looking through the papers again, you confirm nothing suspicious besides Summer Court sending the blood rubies.

Your thoughts drifted to Azriel the shadowsinger, it had been weeks since you last saw him, and you had yet to form an opinion on Azriel. Was he the most handsome male you’ve ever met? Yes. Was he a sneaky bastard who spied on your Court? Yes. To give him some credit, he told you some form of the truth when you caught him trying to sneak into the library but that was only because you threatened to end the alliance with Rhysand. Despite his spying, the male you talked with during sunrise was different. Maybe you saw a glimpse of the real Azriel, the personality he has when he’s at home and not working. As you sent in new orders to Kerina and the others, you couldn’t help but think of those cold and calculating hazel eyes.

***

A couple of months passed, and the sense of impending doom grew stronger every day. Reports of dark creatures roaming the border between Dawn and the Middle came in at a steady rate, there were enough threats that you had to go under your guise as the Golden Warrior to slay these creatures. You were a great warrior without your wings, but you were lethal when your feathers were out. You had to be careful not to use your powers because if Night Court was keeping tabs on your power signature, the others were too. The heavy presence of these creatures only confirmed your suspicions that something big was coming. Even though Callon was the Captain of the Peregeryns, you were still ranked above him, so you had them do extra training along with military exercises with the foot soldiers. Callon may be your cousin’s lover and he saw you as his little sister, but he was also extremely loyal to the Court and its hierarchy. If you told him to do something, he always obeyed without a question.

 One afternoon, you were going over some paperwork when you heard a bird chirping on the balcony. Looking up, Thesan’s sparrow was hopping on the banister and whistling as if it was speaking to you. Lifting your hand, the sparrow flew and perched on your finger as it watched you with intelligent eyes. The High Lord of Dawn was the only one who could communicate with the birds, but you knew this was Thesan’s way of summoning you.

You stroked its feathered head, “Tell him I’m on my way.”

It chirped back happily and took flight. You straightened out the papers on your desk before waving a hand to turn off the faelights. Darkness engulfs the room, and you gasp, the memories of your dream last night flooding back to you. It was the second time you dreamt about that dark cellar and the little boy who sat in it. This time you heard the crying and sniffles before you could even spot his dark form sitting in the corner. The dream was strange, just like the previous one, you couldn’t move and only saw what the dream wanted you to see. It seemed like you were sitting in that cellar for hours, it was only when the boy lay down when you saw the bandages. The boy was still faceless but under the dim moonlight, you saw his little hands wrapped in cotton, blood blooming under the white cloth. All you could do was stare in horror as the pain and exhaustion lulled him to sleep.

It took you all day to forget about the horrid dream and the sounds of his weeping. Ever since the first dream you convinced yourself it wasn’t real. This heavy weight fell on your shoulders the moment you woke up, even though it happened in your sleep, it all felt real. Deep down you knew that room and that child existed, you almost sent one of the spies to do some research, but you stopped yourself. You couldn’t waste any court resources, especially now that Rhysand had called for a High Lord meeting.

Taking a deep breath, you shook your head and swiftly made your way to Thesan’s office where he sat holding out a thick piece of paper to read. Callon was already sitting on one of the chairs and gave you a wave.

“Most of the High Lords agreed to meeting, so now the only problem is agreeing to where the courts will meet,” you said summarizing the letter.

He nodded before resting his hand under his jaw and sighed. He was still so tired of all the hell he experienced with Amarantha, all the news of unrest spreading across Prythian and Hybern gave him a constant underlying headache.  

“What if we offered to host the meeting? Here, in the Palace.”

He scrunched his face in annoyance because he already knew it was the best option. “Why does it have to be me?” grunted Thesan.

Callon made a face, but he didn’t interrupt, he wanted to give you a chance to assert your authority even though he disagreed with your idea.

“Because we’re closest to the middle and there is no way High Lord Kallias is going to offer to host,” you said handing the letter back to him. “Rhysand would have already offered but most of the courts don’t like him and all the other High Lords except for Tarquin seem like jackasses that won’t agree to host.”

Thesan frowned, “When did I become the friendliest High Lord?”

You snorted. “I wouldn’t say most friendly…maybe most tolerable? You’re the only High Lord in existence who has stayed mostly neutral in past battles and disputes. It makes sense for us to be the hosts, there's less of a chance these suspicious High Lords are going to think we’re going to double-cross anyone.”

Feeling the need to raise his concerns, Callon politely cleared his throat. “I don’t know��the security concerns… there could be fights that could level this Palace.”

“We have special wards to avoid magic and ensure fairness whenever all the High Lords come to gather but Callon’s right. I’m sure someone is going to find a way to break through the shields and cause all kinds of trouble,” said Thesan.

You glanced at the gleaming siphons around your neck and then at the two males. “This meeting needs to happen, and Rhysand knows it too, his letters feel so desperate. If a fight whether physical or magical breaks out, I’ll neutralize it,” you said gingerly touching the sapphires. “I’ll unleash my power if I have to.”

  Thesan’s frown deepened. “No—I don’t know, it’s too dangerous.” His rich brown eyes clouded with that overbearing concern.

Your jaw clenched as you stared at your cousin. “You promised me that I would get to decide when I would reveal my powers and the Golden Warrior. Now it seems like the perfect time with a potential conflict coming and someone’s bound to find out. If Night Court noticed, I’m sure the others did too.”

 Thesan looked at you coolly not wanting to lose his temper. You were right, it was only a matter of time before someone found out what you were. He was afraid of the repercussions you would get when people find out that you and the Golden Warrior were the same person. Thesan’s enemies were your enemies and with the added revelation of the Warrior, he was sure that list would double. He wasn’t ready to share how powerful you were, in fear of making that target on your back even bigger but Thesan knew it was no longer his call. He has kept you hidden long enough, it was time for you to spread your wings.

   “Okay,” he said quietly. “You get to call the shots with your powers from now on, you deserve it.”

 With a grin, you lunged at Thesan to hug him before you settled down to help him draft a letter to the High Lords.

***

 The preparations for the High Lords' arrival took all your time and energy and you slept through the night with no memory of the dreams you had. Despite dreamless nights, that dark cellar haunted your thoughts to the point you wanted to find that wretched place and rescue the child and burn it to the ground. Thesan had Callon and other Peregryns do over the security while you and other courtiers who were gifted with magic began enforcing more wards and shields on the Palace. This type of magic was so specific it took all your concentration as you learned from one of the older Fae how to properly enforce specific protective shields you’ve never used before.  When Thesan was available to help with the wards, he sent you off to visit the cities and ensure that Nuan’s compounds that defended against faebane were being produced efficiently.

 The Night Court was also doing their due diligence and making backup plans for their backup plans just in case it turned to shit in Dawn Court. Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand peered down at a map of the Palace and came up with many escape plans. Cassian and Rhysand were anxious about the visit, but Azriel was a little more concerned about the strange female that had been plaguing his thoughts. Shadows pooled over his shoulders and blocked his brother’s view.

“Uh, Azriel… what’s going on?” asked Cassian. “I haven’t seen you this anxious about a meeting before.”

Azriel’s beautiful features stayed neutral, but his crossed arms and taut muscles betrayed him. He didn’t want to admit that he’d been anxious to see you again, it’s been a long time since anyone has taken his mind off the torture of loving Morrigan. He found the last few months to be different. He still blushed every time Mor gave him attention. Like the time she brushed past him and squeezed his arm or when she propped her feet onto his thighs when everyone was lounging around the living room drinking wine. Then there were the times Mor would pull away or avoid his gaze, these moments would usually sour his mood for the entire day, but nowadays everything stung less.

[ladysirenity23]

Cult!Genshin x reader

Sagau pt.4 Inazuma

Warnings: cult behavior, obsessive thoughts, religion, spoilers,

Pt. 1 Khaenri'ah 👇

Pt.2 Mondstadt 👇

Pt.3 Liyue 👇

Kazuha

The sounds of the ocean never cease to calm the young man as your presence also seems to make the sight of the serene waters better as the wind is blowing slowly-though his words and phrases in his haiku never could bring you any justice as you were just that divine

Though he frowns on why you weren't able to help in any suffering in these past centuries during the Vision Hunt decree

No matter now though. As his friend would finally be at peace knowing their Creator is helping the Traveler stop the tribulations and trials that the people of Inazuma are facing.  Oh.. how he wishes for his friend to take sight of their Creator and take part in the freedom of the vision holders of the Nation of Eternity..

Now.. will you grace him an ear and listen to his haiku's...?

Ayaka

As Ayaka was still but a little girl...She'd listen to her mother speak of you in such a high manner-and she couldn't blame her mother or anyone who worshipped you in that matter... you were the Creator after all..

Upon your arrival on Teyvat she was surprised to say the least-but that wasn't a bad thing-! In fact she could say she's been dying to meet you-not only from prayers or from stories from her mother...but actually genuinely get to know you..and perhaps..even be graced to attend a festival only with you

Kokomi

During the decades-each and every priestess of the Island of Watatsumi had offered their mind and soul to their God-namely Orabxi even after he was slain-but even when that was the case they still worshipped him in spite of the Shogun-but of course aside from the fallen Deity…you were worshipped as well...

The warm welcome at Watatsumi was beyond warm..for they held a small welcoming party in your honor even during these trying times-and despite  not understanding a single word any of them said-you felt loved and safe-well that is until you realized you hadn’t done the Inazuma quest before-

But for now..you seem content with the serenity of the situation before you go back to the cold and harsh realities of this archon quest-

Raiden Shogun

Makoto would sit in the outskirts of Inazuma as Ei went into battle..she'd smile as she does little prayers towards your personal shrine as the small pink kitsune snuggles into her arms with glee..but perhaps not everything is cut and dry..especially when now..she'll decide to go an risk her life in the front of the unfamiliar battlefield..yet..even in her dying breath..she still fondly mutters your name...

Ei...the loss of her friends..the loss of her sister...a poor archon indeed..though not the first archon who'd lost their companions' lives..she knows she'll definitely not be the last who'd endure the pain of loss..but she can't seem to grasp why it was necessary for it to happen-she couldn't grasp why you let it happen-you-a being who transcends even Celestia..why couldnt have you stopped the bleeding of their beings and her heart bled as she was forced to slay her beloved friends-and when she was forced to see Makoto die in her arms...why at all times you show yourself when you stop her in her own selfish pursuit of 'eternity' why until now... must you give her trials every step in the way? Yet..even as childish as she sounds..she doesn't blame you..after all...mortals aren't the only ones living under your judgement..

The shogun was tasked and programmed to eliminate any one who dares stop the pursuit of Eternity...however that somehow didn't apply to you..and even she had little to no control over her body she still wonders why she hadn't strike you the moment you went and ran towards the people of Inazuma to protect them..

Scaramouche

What does 'he' think of you?

Kuzinushi would ask himself everytime..what did he think of you once he was discarded by the Shogun?What did he think of you once he witnessed the village he was already content in residing in-burned to the ground with only ash and flame all over the corpses of the villagers...

So..?

He despises you.. - Scaramouche would cackle in the realisation of his inner turmoil towards you his supposed creator..what was there to love in the first place anyway?!...

Ohh...our merciful Creator..what sorrows will you bring today...Scaramouche would say mockingly to the heavens as if daring you to strike him down-He'd spit on your name..he'd go as far to do it in front of his fellow harbingers and Snezhanya's archon..but alas why did he crave some sort of attention from you? Why did he seem to pray (despite being it only in his head-)Yet that didn't change the fact that there was a tiny silvee of hope every time he prayed while he felt the slight glimmer of your presence on the clouds of Teyvat-

Yet at the present time he'd watch you once you came to the island of Watatsumi..maybe he was relishing in the chaos? Or maybe intrigued on your oddly hopeless reactions-

The indigo haired puppet only could look at you in disbelief-or maybe it was amusement..even for him..it was hard to decipher which one he was truly feeling

Either way...now with your presence in Inazuma...shouldn't you praise and worship him for his plan to entrap protect you from the cruel role you were forced to play onto you?

--

You,Traveller and Paimon enter the domain as you try to process the grieving events that took place in Watatsumi Island-you failed to save anyone here-

As you felt your guilt and hatred for yourself for not preventing anything to happen-you feel yourself going into the spiral of utter despair as you come face to face with familiar looking  silhouette reaching out to you as a grin spread into his lips...

Before blacking out into the shadows of the domain..

--

You suddenly wake up back at your room-phone in hand..but...nothing seemed to change...(!?)

It didn't seem a day even pass as you look at your familiar surroundings..time worked differently from the one in Teyvat..but something didn't feel right-

However..now you'll have to deal with things behind the screen as you help Aether's journey from the confines of your room-

While your physical body in Teyvat resides somewhere else for now...

Ayato

As the Vision Hunt decree finally got abolished-The eldest Kamisato finally went out of his office before rumors of your arrival came as quick as your physical departure form Teyvat-

It was odd..though in a world where even normal human beings in Teyvat could have abilities graced upon Celestia-

Maybe it wasn't so weird at all..but it was quite worrying as for now he would only sense your presence through the Traveller..what could've cause your physical body to dissappear..? What could've caused you to separate from your physical body-

He should leave the questions to the Anemo-visioned detective..but even he can get impatient even after years of hard work and patience....

@w@:Sorri for the very late sagau posts I've lost money and PayPal and I am still trying to earn it back so pls be patient for the next part qwq

If u want to donate 💕

[lotusconstellation]

“Shy Confessions” Pt. 1

Reborn Sun Wukong x Gn Reader

Story by: @queenofroses22

Written by: Lotus_Constallation

When hearing about the great tales of Journey to the West, you’ll often hear the stories of the great and all-mighty Monkey King, also known as Sun Wukong. The great sage equal to heaven, the celestial monkey that was born from a stone and set off to cause mayhem amongst anyone that crossed his path without any concern or hesitation.

You would also hear about the laughingstock of heaven and, honestly, of hell as well. The tales of Zhu Bajie, also known as Pigsy, a man who used to be a heaven official but made the mistake of refusing to believe he’s lightweight when it comes to alcohol, leading to his banishment and being cursed to be a pig demon for all eternity.

It’s also no doubt that you would hear about Tang Sanzang, formally known as Tripitaka, the powerful yet peaceful monk who had set off to fulfill his destiny!

There is also Sha Wujing, also known as Sandy, there’s not much about him but everyone knows he’s a water demon who fought courageously.

And finally, Ao Lie, the white dragon horse, who was also disguised as a white horse for Tripitaka to ride on while they make the hellish adventure to get those scriptures.

All of the people I have listed so far are very obviously well known. Some more than others. All have backstories worth mentioning even if there isn’t much. However, what if I told you there was one other person who, too, followed the demons and the monk on their journey, but you won’t find them in any stories. Not even a brief mention of their name. And that’s because this person was no one special. I apologize profusely, but those are the words I’ve heard from time and time again when I would ask why this person isn’t written down in history like the rest.

Surely, if they were a part of The Journey and were brave enough to follow the rest down the path of chaos and destruction, with a high risk of death, and trusting your life with 3 demons, that in itself is special, no? Unfortunately, people don’t see it that way. If you do not have some sort of spectacular fact about yourself that would capture the eyes of a dozen citizens, then you are nothing but a worthless little pebble under someone’s shoe. It’s a harsh reality.

However, that is why I am here! I am here to tell the tales of {Full Name}, Whether people like it or not, Because I firmly believe that they too deserve to be written down in history, just like the rest! And who knows, maybe you’ll learn a thing or two, but enough chit-chat, Let us begin!

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

This story starts with a small village that sits just at the bottom of a mountain. And on this mountain, lived a vicious demon.

The demon had been around for what felt like centuries, and often loved to cause havoc amongst the town’s people. The demon would poison the soil so nothing would grow, destroy stalls, steal from said stalls, smear mud and dirt on any clean laundry, and would run people over with a mysterious carriage. People of the village constantly prayed and prayed to any god to take care of this demon, but upstairs always remained silent. Eventually, after realizing that no one was going to save them, they decided to take matters into their own hands.

Chaos could be heard from a mile away as the townspeople shouted over each other.

“We must slay this demon!” Someone from the crowd shouted.

“With what?! Pitchforks and dainty knives? We’ve all seen what this demon is capable of, what we have won’t do shit!” Another one rebutted.

Throughout all this chaos, a rather average looking person stood off to the side, trying to share what they had to say, but their hushed voice was drowned out by all the other booming voices in the room. It’s quite funny, really. This person, {Name}, spent– heaven knows how many hours practicing what they were going to say, was also the first few to show up, only to be pushed into a corner. And no matter how much they tried to step through the crowd or raise their voice, all their attempts were futile. Eventually, {Name} let out a heavy sigh, before making their way through the crowd to leave through the front door.

Upon stepping outside, {Name} felt the spring breeze gently caress their skin, they inhaled deeply, letting the faint smell of blossoms ease their mind. It was a rather peaceful evening, despite all the ruckus going on in the house behind them. The air wasn’t too hot or too cold, flowers were starting to blossom from all around, the petals and their scent being carried by the wind, and the sun was just starting to set over the horizon, with the skies becoming a mixture of blue, orange, and a dash of red. Honesty, all of it was a sight to see, but sadly, everyone was too frightened to pay it any mind. Who could blame them though, really. With this demon who’s caused nothing but constant dilemmas and chaos for heaven knows how long, it’s no wonder everyone here would be in distress all the time.

{Name} sighed heavily once more before rubbing their temples, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. All the commotion, and the sudden sound of glass breaking was truly starting to get on their nerves. Unfortunately, however, it had always been like this, whenever the town’s people would try to talk about getting rid of this demon, it always ended up getting physical, and In the end, getting nowhere. Honestly, all of it was ridiculous and {Name} was starting to get irritated by it. I mean, that’s why they attempted to be a part of this meeting in the first place. They thought maybe, just maybe, they could take some initiative and try to have everyone think rationally for once, and not be so hostile and rowdy.

Though, I guess looking back on it now, it was stupid to think someone so bashful and run-of-the-mill as them, could make a difference. If they can’t even fake the confidence to take matters into their own hands. Then hell, what good are they? The thought alone made them feel…useless. {Name} tilts their head back, in a poor attempt to keep the tears from falling. However, the tears trickled down their face regardless. Embarrassed by their current state, {Name} took off towards the direction of a nearby forest. They didn’t know where they were going, they didn’t think of how close it was to nightfall. All they could think about was getting to a safe place to let out their woes without any judgment.

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

The labored villager continued to run throughout the unfamiliar territory, making impetuous twists and turns for heaven knows how long, trying their best to jump over fallen logs and moss covered rocks, and unaware of their ankles getting little cuts from open thorns and sticks.

{Name} continued on until they found a spot behind a tree, sinking down to the floor as they finally let go of all their sorrows. They didn’t want to continue living like this; Living in constant distress, with nothing ever being solved because everyone was already so stressed out and exhausted from this blasted demon. I mean, what did the people in the village ever do to him? Why must he keep coming back to attack everyone — even children? Is there some sort of unknown history we were all unaware of? Does the demon know something we don’t?

Whatever the case may be, {Name} just wanted it all to end. They couldn’t take another second of living in that village; where the people do nothing but scream and yell at each other and don’t take a second to just think rationally. There needs to be a change before this demon eventually gets bored of terrorizing everyone and does something worse. {Name} wanted to be that change. But they were foolish enough to think that would ever happen. “Why?” {Name} spoke. Their voice low and raspy from crying so much. They looked up at the starry night sky, unable to realize just how long they’ve been crying for. “Why must this happen to us? What did we ever do?” {Name} honestly didn’t know who they were talking to, or if they were even talking to someone at all. Hell, it would be a blessing in itself if their voice was even loud enough to reach anyone. “We have done everything. Prayed, made offerings, dedicated ourselves to you,” {Name’s} voiced a little louder, their face contorted with anger. “So why do you choose to ignore our pleas? Are we simply not worth your time?” A gentle breeze passed by, but {Name} paid it no mind as they waited for a response, a voice. A comforting breeze will do no good, it will not just magically make up for the constant neglect from the Heaven’s. {Name} knows they shouldn’t dare think this way, they know such thoughts would poison their soul, but they felt like they deserve some sort of proper response from someone. Their childhood had been damaged because of this vile creature, they watched as their parents went from kind and caring folks to aggressive and hostile ones. They used to welcome {Name} with loving arms, often trying to encourage them to be more confident in themselves, to not be afraid to stand up for what was right. But slowly, over the years, they started getting more…aggressive and uncaring towards {Name}.

Out of respect, I will not mention the things they have done. Though, I will say that it unfortunately got to the point where {Name} had become very skilled in tending to wounds.

The lonesome village felt another tear prick at the corner of their eyes, their head dropped as the fresh set of tears left little stains on their clothes. Please, just send someone, anyone, to take care of this demon. I would do anything in return, I promise.

…

The rapid crackling of leaves suddenly reverberated around the forest, {Name} nearly jumped out of their skin when they heard it. The lonesome villagers quickly wiped the remaining tears from their face before attempting to see the source of the noise.

From where they were, they managed to see a tall, humanoid figure running as fast as they could, the figure was wearing all black colored clothing so they could’ve easily blended in with the night. The only reason {Name} could see them was because of another figure dressed in all white colored clothing that was lazily thrown over the other one’s shoulder.

“WUKONG!! SAVE ME!!” The person in white yelled.

Without thinking, {Name} got up from their spot and started chasing after the strangers to the best of their ability. Their name wasn’t Wukong, but regardless the stranger was in trouble.

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

The figure dressed in black was fast, {Name} will tell you that. The figure was jumping around while also making unexpected turns—which threw {Name} off a bit—all while the person in white continued to cry out to someone named Sun Wukong. Which, {Name} had no idea who that was, but they’re assuming Sun Wukong is this guy’s friend. Though, what’s a bit strange is that this guy, despite crying out for help, made little to no effort to fight against the person who was holding him captive.

After what felt like hours, {Name} managed to follow the figure to a cave that was located at the top of the mountain. {Name} heaved while trying to force themselves to walk further up the steep hill. Once at the top, they leaned up against the entrance of the cave, trying to catch their breath. “I wasn’t built for this shit,” they thought.

A moment or two had passed before {Name} looked further into the cave, borrowing the faint moonlight, {Name) couldn’t help but sigh in awe.

The cave was covered in foliage, with a few small waterfalls that flowed down from a few openings in the walls, and the moonlight only gave the place an ethereal glow.

(Artist: Unknown. Source: Pinterest).

{Name} was astonished, never in their life have they ever seen something as elegant as this. It all made {Name} ponder about their own life choices. From their younger years, there were always these rowdy kids who always dismissed the adults' concerns and went as far as they wanted into the woods. The kids offered for {Name} to join them one time, but they timidly refused. Now looking back on it, Perhaps it wouldn’t have hurt to accept their offer.

After what felt like an incense time, {Name} carefully moved towards the cave, the light from the moon slowly warning the further they went, relying on the tiny luminous blue flowers that scattered throughout the cave. As time passed, {Name} couldn’t help but grow more nervous. I mean, what were they going to do? How were they going to save this stranger from someone who could be armed and is undoubtedly stronger then {Name} was, when just prior they were sitting in the dark crying because they can’t even get their voice to go up an octave or two.

Honestly, the smartest thing to do would’ve been to go search for this “Wukong” guy but nOoOo, they just had to prove themselves.

Sighing heavily, {Name} continued on, trying to ease their mind by taking in the scenery. Whoever that black-clad man was, and as horrible as it sounds, {Name} was glad this was the place the man led them to. While they walked, they suddenly came to an opening with a bunch of stone staircases leading in all different directions, leading to multiple different rooms. {Name} was about to walk past it before a rather rejoiceful voice echoed throughout the room. “How lucky, How lucky I am today!!” {Name’s} blood ran cold, they recognized that voice. It was the demon. {Name} had followed the demon back to where he lived!

…

Shit.

End of part 1!

I really hope you and Queen enjoyed it. I can’t guarantee when the next part will be out, but keep an eye out 👁️

Love you all!!

[tobiasdrake]

Final Origin: the Mage origin, which is the only origin available to two races but only one class, rather than two classes and one race.

The Circle of Magi exists as a response to the Tevinter Imperium. Indeed, sustaining its existence is a core function of the Chantry. Arguably its main function.

"Magic exists to serve man and not to rule over him." They speak these words as a mantra. It's unclear when exactly Andraste allegedly said this, given that she'd been super dead for over 150 years before the Chantry even formed.

According to Knight-Commander Greagoir here, she said this while she was casting down the Tevinter Imperium. This is not a thing that happened. Andraste's husband Maferath famously sold her out to the Tevinter Magisterium, who took her into custody and put her to death.

So that's. Just. A lie. The Chantry is lying. There was no big action hero moment where Andraste struck down Tevinter forever, ended all magical oppression, and delivered a badass one-liner about keeping the mages in line as she did it. This never happened.

Andraste, Maferath, and Shartan's revolution reshaped the map of Thedas for centuries to come. The end of the war was messy in the way that wars often are. Neither Andraste nor Maferath lived to see the formation of the Chantry in a country neither of them were even from.

And all of this is the foundation for why mages live in bondage. It's collective punishment for the unresolved hostility that still exists to this day between Tevinter and the Alamarri and Ciriane tribes.

It also doesn't actually mean shit.

The codex entry History of the Circle tells a very different and... depressingly realistic story of how the Circle of Magi truly came to be.

During the Divine Age, the first century of the Chantry, mages were originally just... workforce laborers. They were employed to light candles and dust rafters and other mundane tasks.

The mages in Val Royeaux staged a sit-in protest. They snuffed all the sacred flames, barricaded the cathedral, and refused to leave. Naturally, upon realizing the mages' discontent, Chantry leadership saw reason and--

No, I'm kidding. The Templars had to talk Divine Ambrosia down from declaring an Exalted March against her own cathedral and slaughtering every last protesting mage on the premises.

The protest lasted for 21 days and the end-result was the Circle of Magi.

That is the origin story of the Circle. It's a tense compromise between a group of mages who didn't want to work as serfs and an unhinged leader who wanted them all dead for defying her. Everything else is just rhetoric to justify a violent response to labor force unionization that's become normalized and perpetuated to this day.

Like the Grey Wardens, the Circle of Magi has its own top-secret initiation trial that no one must ever know. They feed mages to demons and then hire whoever survives.

Ostensibly, the Circle exists to minimize the risk of demon influence and possession over mages. In practice, every single Circle mage - every single one, no exceptions - has spent at least some time in an unmonitored space directly engaging in some way with a demon. By design.

So, dragged from your room and thrust unprepared into the Fade, the Mage origin begins. The Fade is populated by demons and by spirits.

The Mage is sent into the Fade for their Harrowing and the goal is to face down a demon and come back unpossessed.

It's kind of a shitshow, for the purpose that it's meant to fulfill.

Mouse is a character who introduces himself to the Mage pretty early into the Fade journey. He alleges to be an ex-mage who was killed by the Templars because his Harrowing took too long. He's actually a Pride Demon and so any personal anecdote he has to share is automatically unreliable since he was never there.

Weirdly, he's not the test? The Mage slays a Rage Demon and the Harrowing successfully ends shortly thereafter. Mouse just makes pithy comments about the perils of pride for... I guess educational purposes?

Does he--

Jowan, tell Elf Jowan to stop walking in front of my bunk. I'm trying to sort my thoughts.

Anyway, what was I saying? Right. Does he work here? Does the Circle keep a Pride Demon on staff to trick mages into trusting him and then harmlessly finger-wag at them and let them go? Because that violates so much of what the Harrowing is supposed to be about if so.

Though not nearly as much as the fact that you can chitchat with a Sloth Demon during the Harrowing and it works out great. They teach Mouse to become a bear and then Bear Form Mouse helps you defeat the Rage Demon with no drawbacks or downsides!

I persuaded a Sloth Demon to power up my best buddy Pride Demon and together we passed my Harrowing with flying colors! Communing with demons is fucking rad and I'm glad the Circle dragged me out of bed at night and forced me to learn that or I'd have never known.

And, again, this is the trial that every single mage in the Circle with no exceptions undergoes. Kinda explains a lot, don't it?

Of course, there's also the mages that get made Tranquil instead.

Tranquility was always an alarming concept. They break your connection to the Fade, ripping out your emotions and your dreams.

The context of Veilguard makes it all the more horrifying, when you realize that it's effectively the same thing as what the Evanuris did to the Titans. That shit created the Blight, and the Rite of Tranquility is cut from the same cloth.

I'm so glad we've managed to independently reinvent and mass-distribute one of the Dread Wolf's greatest shames.

Politics within the Circles are generally divided between four and a half factions.

Loyalists follow Chantry law to the letter.

Libertarians seek liberation from the Chantry, whatever that entails.

Isolationists want to live far, far away from civilization and never interact with anyone, which is basically what the Circle already is except without the murderous police state around every corner.

Lucrosians just wanna make bank, a concept that is... honestly confusing within the context of the Circle. We're confined to a tower; What are we supposed to spend the money on?

Those are the four key factions: Chantry Apologists, Revolutionaries, Aspiring Wildmen, and Inexplicable Capitalists.

Then there's the Aequitarians, whose political position is to make nice between the parties and not take any political positions. They're the Insufferable Centrist party.

Cullen is trying to flirt with me by telling me he would have stabbed me to death and then felt miserable about it if the Chantry ordered him to.

This is what passes for romance in the Circle Tower. In the Orzammar Palace, it was, "Want me to have that guy killed, dearest? My life for yours." In the Brecilian Forest, it was, "Let's go find ancient secrets and fuck up some humans, but as a couple!"

Here it's, "Apropos of nothing, that ritual we dragged you out of bed and forced you into against your will could have ended with my blade sticking out of your ribs. Want to go to dinner and discuss more pleasant ways you can be impaled?"

No thank you, Cullen. I don't date my would-be executioners. And by that I mean all Templars, not just the guy assigned to Guillotine Duty.

Jowan is sort of the payoff for the Pride Demon's inexplicable lesson. Like Mouse, Jowan is actually playing the Mage from the get-go. He fears that they intend to make him Tranquil due to rumors of him practicing blood magic.

The rumors are correct. Jowan is practicing blood magic.

In fact, he's phenomenal at it.

According to Greagoir, what Jowan pulls off here is a remarkably impressive feat of blood magic. They came here ready to counter a blood mage but weren't expecting a top-tier blood magister. Jowan's got a gift.

What makes this fun is that there are two ways this quest can go down. In either version, the Pride Demon's warning rings true. Either the Mage was a fool for trusting Jowan, or Jowan was a fool for trusting the Mage. One of these two made a mistake no matter how you slice it.

What we have with the Circle of Magi is a ticking time bomb, no matter what country you're in. The tension and hostility that exists between mages and their captors is so thick you can cut it with a knife.

Greagoir and Irving are probably the most civil that a Knight-Commander and a First Enchanter can be. And yet the tension is still there. Irving is under no illusions about the power dynamic at play and he fucking hates that he has to be all pretty smiles and civil decorum.

He has a spiteful loathing of the Chantry that comes out if you warn him about Jowan and Lily's conspiracy.

He knows they're gonna hang Jowan for this, metaphorically speaking, and he wants to hang Lily right next to Jowan.

Irving learns that one of his mages is so desperate to avoid being made Tranquil that he's going to try to escape. That Jowan and Lily are planning to run away together because they're in love.

And his response is, "The Chantry's going to take one of mine so I'm going to take one of theirs in return. The priestess bleeds too."

This kind of resentment, this bitterness, fear, and hopelessness, is what the Circle of Magi cultivates. Even their leaders are chomping at the bit to strike back at their captors in whatever ways they can.

It's manufacturing plant for mass-producing desperation in the very people the Chantry fears most.

[kings-highway]

consider this: Soldier, Poet, King by The Oh Hellos, but as the main trouble-makers of Paranormality.

"There will come a soldier who carries a mighty sword. / He will tear your city down." -> "Daichi is not one of us - the bigeneric children born of alien experimentation are like parasites on this planet, they can cast their eyes onto the yokai without belief in them, forcing them to exist without purpose, to live in uncertain circumstances."

Perhaps not a sword, but certainly his nature - his inability to let sleeping dogs lie. Every time Oikawa called on him, Daichi unwittingly answered each time as though he were a soldier following the orders of his commander. When let loose, he did not stop his hunt. He stuck his nose in the dirt and kept sniffing out the drugs buried in a dealer's backyard (metaphorically speaking). Mixing that quality with his poisonous DNA seeping into the very fabric of the supernatural universe, the product is a man who can crumble towers with each footfall, who can make the citizens tremble at the end of his bayonet.

"There will come a poet whose weapon is his word. / He will slay with his tongue." -> "That is the unfortunate burden that we both must carry as believers - there would be no power in your belief if you were able to see it so easily, would there?"

His belief in Daichi's alien heritage, or at the very least, his belief that Daichi's father was up to something shady, is what, essentially, made Daichi an alien. If he had never been told, never been given the inkling of an idea that he is anything but human, then he wouldn't have had to deal with the adverse effects of seeing yokai. Oikawa believed in his ability to perceive, so Daichi did. Oikawa believed that being a monster does not make you monstrous, that the name of the woman who died by her husband's hand is her maiden name, not the one of her murderer. He can destroy and create worlds with words in his mind, with words spoken aloud.

"There will come a ruler whose brow is laid in thorn. / Smeared with oil like David's boy." -> "Sinistrals are not inherently magic but ones born and bred from bloodlines of power and superstition have innate…"

He cannot perceive the yokai. In fact, he barely even believes in them. Yet, he is the only one who can innately physically affect them before they touch him. With Daichi, he can see them. He doesn't know how to lay his hands on them before they've already gotten ahold of him. Using your sinistral hand can be learned, but Ushijima's ability is innate. He is strong in his ancestral power. He is marked with centuries of superstition, a bloodline capable of bringing the yokai to heel. His arm can move as a separate part of him. The very oil of the yokai is smeared into his skin, his veins, his bones, to the neurons connecting to his brain.

these are not set in stone, i think, considering i could also make a sound argument for all three of them in every position, such as both oikawa and daichi in the ruler spot, and ushijima as the solider. and so on and so forth. but, this is what i'm going to go with and submit. i fear i cannot consume media normally. will i be back in the future? maybe. just wanted to leave you with this, and should you have any thoughts, of course i'd love to hear them.

(obviously i know this song is about jesus christ. but it is something to be said that when these three came together, the bigener, the believer, and the sinistral, they tore the city down, as the last line of the song would go.)

I am CRYING.

dear readers, in case you haven't been following along @mania-sama has been waging psychological warfare against me for a few weeks and I'm pretty sure it's punishment for making them enjoy an DaiOi fic

this has killed me. is it possible you understand the themes and motifs of these characters more than i do? absolutely. fuck you. Also, deeply impressed that you put Ushijima up there, because he initially was slated to be the third metaphorical heavy hitter of the story but I decided to bench him for a bit and instead he will be back in a sequal to develope what the sinistrality hand meant. BUT FU K YOU BECAUSE YOU'VE SPOILED IT. HOW DID YOU NAIL IT 100% ON A SUBJECT I BARELY FUCKING TOUCHED. YOU GOT IT. ABLE TO TOUCH THE YOKAI BEFORE THEY TOUCH HIM. SATURATED IN THEIR OILS. IM CHEWING ON YOU MANIA. IM CHEWING ON YOU SO HARD. DO YOU FEEL THESE TEETH GNAWING? MMMHMMMM TASTY MANIA MUNCH MUNCH MUNCH.

Anyways I love you thanks for this I have to go back to work and be normal for another 5 hours now.

EVERYONE should read this. If you read Paranormality: its accurate. You know that. Enjoy the extra. IF YOU HAVENT this is the best goddamn endorsement of the story I could have written.

[boymanmaletheshequel]

Dear ares, dear tyche, dear all of you who read this who are as consumed, as controlled, and as empowered by your rage, your vindiction, your desire for just violence and resentment, and who are as determined to destroy evil as I am. to annihilate oppression, and to smite, to slay, and to murder those responsible for it, a message to people who have always felt hate just as, if not even more strongly than they’ve felt love: I wish we didn’t have to feel this way, that we could believe that hope could prevail on its own volition, that justice was a natural thing and an inevitable promise of humanity. But it’s not. Justice is a spoil that must be fought for with violence, with ruthlessness, and with deliverance just as powerful as it is fought against by our enemy. Hope is a prospect that is as fragile as glass, and as vulnerable as a lamb in a forest of wolves. It must be protected, it must be preserved, by any means necessary, because if it isn’t, it might never come back once it’s been stolen. And do not be so optimistic to believe that the people that fight to destroy it won’t always fight dirty, and with more determination and force that most good people ever will. Which means we must fight against then twice as hard. No more conceding on the grounds of fairness, no more trying to find a middle ground that is stained in our blood, no more tolerance for fascism, no more trying to reason or appeal. We don’t want to fight, and that’s why we have to fight. Take up a sword, a gun, or a bow, wield the gavel of justice and use to beat the enemy dead. They will fight to their last breath to destroy us, we would be fools to not do the same. Peace is a thing of beauty, but it’s a reward that must first be secured by violence. Stand with your gay brothers, your lesbian sisters, your trans daughters. Fight by the side of your black neighbors, your Muslim friends, and your Jewish teachers. War is hell, but a war won by evil is worse. Do not let it win. Do not back down, do not give in. Fight until the last breath, even if that means sacrificing yourself, because that’s how our people, how good people, will live on after us. Violence is an evil, that much is true. But evil is not black and white, sometimes fire must be used to fight fire. In a perfect world, such a thing should never have to be said, or even considered. But it’s not a perfect world, it never has been, nor will it ever be. but depending on who wins this war, this millennia, this century, this next four years. we can decide who gets to mold fate in their fingers. I love you, more than I hate them, but believe me so, I HATE them. And I will destroy them for you, for hope, for justice. Do not hesitate to do the same. Stay strong, be there for those who are trodden, fight for them when they cannot fight for themselves, and don’t set down the sword of justice, of absolution, until it is stained with the red blood of evil. Only than, only afterwards, can it be cleaned by the silk cloth of hope.

[sgiandubh]

Jottings: Season 7, episode 7. If my Latin serves me, that must mean star traveler

Finally made it. Ticked that box. Doubled Cape Fear. I deserve an ice cream, I suppose.

To be honest, I was expecting way worse. And it ends much better than it started, despite SS moaning like a banshee, despite the chopped editing, despite that finger-in-mouth failed transplant (I shall not thank thee, Vanessa Woman) and despite an almost unreadable storyline for us, show-onlies.

A few words on this season's Lallybroch set. I know the Eighties were dubiously fond of shrieking orange shades, diarrheic golden browns and horribly impractical furniture, of course. But am I the only one that feels modern-day Lallybroch is tacky and kitschy AF, as compared to the wonderful, really perfect J&C& the Murrays' timeline? I also find it disturbingly confusing, a failed hybrid between a Texas ranch and a Brittany gentilhommière. To bear the shock, my gaze needs the active help of details with a story and a destiny, such as the Jacobite 'Nemo me impune lacessit' saltire I've noticed ever since Mrs. Graham was reading Claire's teacup, in season 1 - now almost an afterthought. Therefore, the overall result feels like J&C's shrine has been colonized by anachronistic hipsters, not to mention that horrible caravan. There is a complete lack of coziness to a space that did not have the time to become a real home. That only makes things worse when #Broger try their best at mimicking a functional, credible marriage, sex included.

Let's be done already with the Phil Collins moment. And go tell it on the mountain that, despite the multiple warnings received recently, my reaction somehow managed to surprise myself. Reader, I HOWLED, which is beyond redemption and potentially much more cruel than a heavy disappointment. The hydraulics were shaky. The afghan was mustard. She was indescribable and he was elsewhere. I shall only add that my brain refused the connection with In the Air Tonight and went instead for I Can't Dance. If there is any truth in that old symmetry between dancing, driving and canoodling - go figure. Enough said.

The two people who totally slayed this episode were Buck Mackenzie and Vandervaart - I know, indulge me, I am a poor woman of feeble mind. I do not intend to insist on young William, simply because I don't think it's savvy to shamelessly fangirl two days in a row. He shines in that very difficult battle scene, and yes, it reminded me of Culloden J sans the kamikaze touch. And yes, by the end of Saratoga 1.0, William is easily ten years older: the whole world's burden weighs on his shoulders and there is a taste of ashes to that Pyrrhic victory.

Spoiler: [looking at Jemmy's toy plane] Of all the things I have seen... have you been inside one? (...) My Jeremiah would love this. Buck is phenomenal. He is versatile enough to seamlessly transition from a hungry animal to the 18th century lawyer to the unwanted, macho cousin-ancestor to the father who misses his children, all of this in less than an hour. And even if I shall never forgive Herself for not bringing You-Know-Who through the stones, this could be as good as it gets, in terms of a second-best narrative solution. Still, unfair, Herself. Unfair to bits.

Spare the cosmic booing in the air these days, the J&C/S&C PDA issue has also been debated at length, in quite tired terms, to be honest. What I did see was a couple sure of itself and completely at ease with one another. And if you think S&C were nowhere to be found, think again about C's chuckle just after J cheekily tells her she needs spectacles, with a very 21st century flirty-coffee-in-town attitude that is not J.

I believe the next and last episode is on August 11th. That should be the one with the blue light mojo, right? Right.

I can't wait.

Credit given again to @flllk. Of course.

[sol-consort]

I feel like a threesome with Jack and Miranda would slay. 1. Because they hate each other, but shepard always finds a way to keep them in line 2. When they fight all can hear is that one tiktok sound that's like "fuck it everybody get naked lets see who pussy the best". Like is it so wrong that I want to have a big Normandy gangbang.

P.S. It's crazy that you can't date Jack, Miranda, Tali, or Ashley as femshep because the tension between them and femshep is literally insane.

P.P.S., who are you're mass effect threesome pairings. These are the ones I can think of

1. Garrus and Tali (like Tali literally said she was thought about it all the time 🤨)

2. Thane and Samara (they similar vibes and I feel like it would be crazy hot)

3. Jack and Miranda (obvi)

4. Kaidan and Liara (because when I was playing the first mass effect they were fighting over femshep and in my head I was like omg just have a threesome)

5. Just one big orgy with everyone of the Normandy (idk I just think everyone's hot even Mordin 🤷‍♀️)

That's all I can think of, what do you think?

It is crazy that you can't date Jack!!! That's what I'm saying, especially with her dating women before like damn. First, they took wlw Ashley from us, and now this? Let my femshep get dicked down by a single butch I swear to god—Liara sit your femme ass back down!!

I agree with the tension between Miranda and femshep, I noticed it too. The rebellious laid-back leader and the uptight second in command who's an open spy for cerberus. Each time she invited shep to her room I was like "are we about to makeout sloppy rn?" so many scenes of her staring wishfully at femshep, wondering what would happen if she'd just make a move...how freedom would taste like on her lips.

-

Hmm, for the threesomes you mentioned, Thane and Samara oh my god you're a genius!

Both are brimming with devotion and unbridled yearning. Samara trying to resist you so hard for her oath, you're the greatest temptation she has ever faced. She is genuinely scared she might throw it all away just to find out how your naked body feels like pressed against her in bed.

Thane, who never thought he'd ever love again, who was a dead man when you found him, one foot in the grave. Ready to give up on life and everything. You revived him, you helped him make up with his son, became his sole reason for existence, to fight the sickness and live each day fully.

A threesome with them would burn with the same intensity as a thousand suns. They've both been starved for so long, stealing you from one another at any opportunity, working in unison to experience as much of you as possible in this short fragment of time.

Thane who's overeager for you, to show you how grateful he is for everything you've done. To let his tears run as you bring him to another climax while riding him, how he can't help but marvel at this powerful human atop his thighs.

Samara, who hasn't felt another's touch in centuries, an old asari past the age of passion and love, a matriarch through and through. To her, you're a sweet nectar she's been depraved of, an addiction she's quickly spiralling into. Eating you out with fervor, swallowing all of your cum, demanding more and more.

Thane is too gentle, she's too intense. Samara's too restrainted, he's too passionate. Both worship you in their own ways.

Thane's honeyed words, how even during sex he pours his heart out to you. Direct with his emotions and infatuation, absolutely transparent with his overwhelming adoration for you. Love gets so intense for the drell that it physically pains them.

Samara's is at a loss for words, ashamed of how delicious this sinful act feels. What the first bite of the apple must have felt to eve. Abandoning her oath of celibacy, breaking her convictions for you. Getting more and more rough in bed as she lets her conflicting emotions out by claiming her ownership over you through bitemarks and hickies, prints of her that grip on your thighs.

-

Jack and Miranda 100% Ever since that "Cerberus cheerleader" comment all I could imagine was the visual of the two of them in bed, battling over Shepard's attention.

While Thane and Samara would work together and find a middle ground despite Thane monogamous nature, these two women would absolutely refuse to meet eye to eye. In fact they'll use you to gain leverage over one another, prove that they can fuck you better than the other woman, that you frankly should just kick her out of bed and end this threesome.

...only to end up hate fucking one another by the end with you in the middle.

Fun times!.

-

Kaidan and Liara 👀 I see your vision, especially with that love traingle confrontation scene. Where you suggest just sharing, Liara is cool with the idea but Kaidan gets all huffy offended and leaves.

Because I want him to eat those words, to try and deny how much he actually enjoys sharing you with Liara. Because he is such a good scouts boy, he always tries to do the right thing and remain a true romantic at heart, a tender lover. I want to see him break his own code, to indulge in the most filthy threesome and be shocked by how much he enjoys it.

How much he likes watching you get taken by another person, especially Liara. He was so defencive around the smart asari, intimidated that another nerd beside him weasled their way into your heart.

Lowkey he had a crush on her but was too focused on wooing Shepard to notice it.

-

Sidenote: Mordin IS extremely hot, won't take any objections. It's so fucking hot when he basically tells you to swallow Thane's cum ingame by using medical terms to hint at how Drell's skin and other stuff are stimulatants to the human brain.

How hot would it be if he was this shameless and intrusive with your sex life all the time? like sure yeah he doesn't sleep with you, but he always asks–no demands explicit details about your last sexual experience and with whom, yk, as a part of routine checkup <3 no other reason.

Anyway, I want to spit roasted between James and Ashley. That's my ideal threesome...maybe Ashley and Thane too?

[l-capitan]

@grimulf-of-the-wilderness | cont'd.

Capitano must hand it to this stranger, they’ve been rather audacious in their romanticisms and flirtations, and it left him utterly stupefied.

Not once has he ever been caught off guard the way he has been by this…admirer, and while it does somewhat make his hackles raise, he had to give them credit where credit was due. After all, indeed, audentes Fortuna iuvat.

Fortune favors the bold.

The Harbinger made no move to slay the stranger where they stood. No, instead, it just stared at them ever silently, the oppressive aura that it always carried upon its shoulders having quieted considerably and was even replaced by something else entirely:

Curiosity.

Their playful yet almost taunting words intrigued him, hues of cerulean glinting within the void of his mask as he regarded the newcomer carefully. The Captain’s lived for a little over five centuries now. He has seen many things when it came to humans and their customs, even those when it came to gestures indicating courting. He’s certainly never seen anyone lick another’s knuckles, however. It was strange—and yet, somehow, mildly amusing?

He's confused. Terribly so. He’s never been at the receiving end of any sort of attention that was not fear or reverence. Or both.

As the wanderer rose to their full height, Capitano was subtly taken aback by the fact that they are tall; much taller than him. He’s never encountered any human that passed him in stature, and just that alone further solidifies the assumption that they’re anything but—or at least, no longer are.

Only when they pushed back the hood and revealed everything did he truly understand. Understand, yet grow all the more bewildered at the fact that of all beings, it was a Hilichurlian Rogue that had courageously stepped forward and gave him his affections.

It’s not often that the Harbinger comes across Hilichurls, no less rogues, as he tends to keep his distance from them in order to leave them with what little peace they have left. So, to be face-to-face—or rather, mask-to-mask, with one was utterly novel. It’s not unwelcome, even as the Hilichurl reiterated his words from before.

Devastatingly handsome paired with a beautiful soul…as though he wasn’t baffled enough.

However, Capitano was snapped out of his reverie the moment a passerby screamed in terror at the sight of the rogue before him, his head turning almost mechanically towards the source of the exclamation before chaos erupted around them.

Ah.

His attention remained on the crowds of people that scattered and hollered to get away from the rogue that had revealed himself, however it returned towards the Hilichurl once he spoke again and dismissed himself before the guards could step in.

“… Wait.”

These are not Capitano’s people—they’re not a group that he could easily calm with a simple gesture. What he can do, however, is to bring back that oppressive nature that weighed heavily around him as he turned his attention towards the guards and the few stragglers that remained. He has no jurisdiction here in Natlan, of that he is aware, yet he is still a Fatuus.

He is still a Harbinger, and one that demanded respect by his mere presence.

“Leave this being to me and return to your people. Assure them that all is well, as there is nothing to be afraid of,” it said, its voice unwavering and stalwart. Should they listen or should they not mattered little to him as his attention fell on the rogue once more if he did actually listen and stay, motioning with his head for him to follow.

There was no need to continue causing unnecessary stress on the inhabitants of Natlan, so the two of them may as well find a more secluded place so they could have a talk.

[kaledya]

Giovanni and Hurrem time !

First, it always make me chuckle when you call me 'Sir' (im very much a she) and each time I'm like *putting a suit and spreading legs* "I'm CEO now. Call me Sir and make my coffee black." Ahah

I mean, Giovanni deserve! He deserves and I give. And I'm ready to see your evolution in his design, when you want it and have time for it🌸 _

I'm very happy you like Hürrem! Thank you for liking the concept idea before anything else!

Oh my gods ! I knew it ! I knew it that guy was a cousin of Nick Wilde or whatever. I didn't want to assume like "he looks like a fox and he is giving Nick" but I did. And love it. I mean Nick ?

1. For Hürrem being half-rabbit, its because I imagine her mother (Parvin) being a mixed of Paimon and you know the female bunny in the Disney movie Bambi ? Very 50s inspired type of very girly girl design but with a demonic twist of course. And that is why!

Then you talk of Nick and I was like, yeah, I saw what you did here ! And we definitely have at least one braincells in common. Yes.

2.  For Hürrem name, yes I know the Turkish serie, I saw like 3 episodes one thousand years ago ?

And I know the historical figure named Hürrem.

I like this name because of the sound of it and the two dots on the ü. Its pretty. Then I just gave a logical reason with Parvin loving Hürrem Sultan in 'real life'.

I like Giovanni's name ! Italian. Like Addolorata ahah. Olcayto was really a surprise when I first saw his name, I never heard it before ! Its original.

Not unnecessary details. Details are great.🌸 _

I like that you like Hürrem background, and yes the Ars Goetia are miserable to the core. All of them.

I didn't think about SSAU Paimon ! Did you draw it somewhere and I missed it ? No ! *throw sparkles in panic* but yes, logically the heigher ranks demons are all fallen angels. They help Luci in the rebellion. I remember, Paimon and Lilith created the Goetia.

So yes Hürrem would have angelic blood in her veins I suppose because her grandfather on her mother side is a fallen angel. BUT in AA, the aristocratic demons are all corrupted by Hell (its just to say that they are more demon in their nature) This is why in a short story, Azrael ask to Abaddon to put a benediction on Charlie and Constantine to not be corrupted by himself. (It works better on Charlie than Constantine but its still a must) _

Yes, Constantine saw an opportunity in Hürrem and used it. Very diplomatic of him and practical.

I wonder if Elrond could be a proposition of a suitor in Constantine's head if Hürrem is successful to find Lilith with Giovanni? Just curious ! _

Hürrem is cute and you are right this type of character have the smoothest arc and changes especially when one party push the other to the better of themselves (they can break some time to time but they always come back together to slay again).

I love your little dialogue "Did you do crimes i dont know about ?" "No?!"

Ahah ! That was funny. And FLUFFY FEATHERS is the best nickname. I love it !!

(Giovanni's presence save the day!) _

The fanfics in Hell thingy is something that Hürrem would definitely like. She would ship everybody with Carmilla, Alastor with Luci and Vox with his assistant or something ahah.

I always find it so impressive Serenity is a doctor in her time period ? Like that is dedication. A nurse is what to expect but a all female doctor ? In America XXe century ? Slay.

I just imagine Human Serenity and an university professor argued for let her pass the test.

S : Thank you, sir. I will do my best. You said I have excellent scores at the last test ? Professor : I did. Very good. But... S : So, I'm on top of the class. This mean, with your marking I will pass, yes ? Professor *inconfortable* : Yes but maybe, I thought, doctor is very difficult, and for a woman of your background its your last chance to...(stay in line)

*Serenity jump on him and put a knife on his neck.*

S : ... I will pass, yes ? Professor : Yes. *removes the knife.* S : Thank you very much, sir. I will see you at the ceremony. _

Thank you ! I'm glad you her 😭 no need to use my others one then.

_

Thank you for your answers about Giovanni faq! It was interesting to know and now I can tie down the character of Hürrem.

•So shorter Hürrem it is. Noted. •Ahah, I just think that Giovanni would lost his mind if he meets Lolicia one day. •His backstory is very difficult and very well done. Tragic and important to his character. Its good. •The two options of the Clan gives to cubs is a good plan to manage the organisation and have members who actually wants to be part of the Clan and not forced to be part of it because they got keep as orphans. Liberty of choices. •the secret hideout in all the Rings give me Lupin The Third vibes (anime) and I appreciate it. •Ahah Giovanni and its 20 lucks charm on gun mastery make me thing of dnd. I think Hürrem would be fAscINatEd by the gunsmith expertise. _

The duo will first appear between episode 7 and last episode of season 1, perhaps two times but we will see much more of them in the season 2 !

Have a great day too 🌸🌸🌸 !!

LMAO! and SORRY!! (⁠ ⁠≧⁠Д⁠≦⁠) We use the word "Sir" in my native language, regardless of gender, to be more respectful and sincere at the end of the conversation or at the beginning.English is burning my brain on this subject, every word has a different meaning depending on gender.In my native language, He/She/They/It all equals just one word.

And Lmao Yes, CEO Marquisev sir. Today your suit looks perfect as always and I will bring your Whiskey Neat and your Coffee black ☜⁠ ⁠(⁠↼⁠_⁠↼⁠)❤️/ (too Sweet cover by Reinaeiry)

*You can also think of me in a butler's uniform*

Thank you! When I reply to the messages you sent before, I will draw them as soon as I get the chance!!

Of course I will love Hürrem, she is a very well written character!

And I'm so glad you like Giovanni!!

--

Yes I remember! And it was a really smart decision. And very clever!

Yes' Precisely, and thanks to that brain cell, we now have Nick and Judy in Hell, sort of. YIPEPEPEP

And strangely, I'm already very fond of these two characters, I'm curious how their stories will progress!!

--

Yes, and I'm glad you saw it centuries ago. I think each episode is about 2-3 hours long. It would take a lifetime to finish the series.

Seriously, the sound 'ü' makes is so beautiful, for some reason, when you say Hürrem, you get the Vibe of a noble character!

And for the sake of connection, it was wise for Parvin to love Hürrem in Real life.

--

I'm glad you like Giovanni's name! And I love Addolarata's name, it's so creative! And seriously, I've never heard a name like that before.

And I'm glad you like the name Olcayto! In short, the meaning of the name means lucky in Turkish. (Serenity Sometimes is not CREATIVE person)

For some reason, ı thought Serenity like This while choosing the name from The books "What does lucky mean in other languages?! I mean, I can't just name the child Lucky, it's like the name of a pet dog."

And I'm glad you liked the details!!

Yes, unfortunately, the Goetia, they arereally miserable, but after all, they're noble demons, what can we expect?

Nope I didn't draw!! But I read that he was the one who was most loyal to Lucifer during his rebellion against Heaven, so I thought of him as a fallen angel!But after all, a cursed fallen angel, the reason Lucifer wasn't cursed as much as the others was because he was the True Archangel

And Yes!

Yes, you have made a really logical decision in AA. After all, even if they were fallen angels, they would not be strong enough to resist corruption.They are all demon now.

Yes, I remember that scene and it caught my attention.Seriously, Azrael's words there make a lot of sense.In the end, it's not in anyone's best interest for Charlie or Constsntine to be corrupted.

And I have a question. In SSAU Constantine and Charlie's blood is orange/a kind of resin color because they are half angel and half ex-human.

(Both of their blood has a seriously different structure. But , I can give an example of one of ıt characteristics, Charlie or Constantine's blood is like the blood of an angel, it is like acid for sinners)

But I do not intend to do the same for the children of sins.

So I'm planning to have their blood black like a hell-born, do you think that makes sense?

--

Yes .

Maybe, after all, he's the of the young Goetias close to Hürrem's age so he will offer this option to Hürrem and Elrond if her mission is completed successfully.

But if either of them does not like the offer and Hürrem does not want marriage as an option, Constantine can do something different Solution on what she wants.

--

Yes definitely! And such characters are so much fun to read!

I'm so glad you liked the little dialogues, and lmao that dialogue was my favorite too!

And I'm glad you liked the nickname! Giovanni would probably be the type to call people with a lot of nicknames.

--

LMAO Imagine, Giovanni and Hürrem are sitting while they are on a journey to move to another ring.Giovanni's attention goes to what Hürrem is reading and asks what she is reading.Hurrem she panicked and said that she didn't read anything and that it was nothing important

(30 fanfic tabs were open in Chrome at the time).

(By the way, funfact, if you have too many fanfic tabs on chrome, the box at the top will stop showing the number and say ':D 'lmao)

---

Yes, Serenity was a Doctor, and yes, women were often nurses at that time.

But this was a very difficult task. Serenity studied at university around 1940 and was there.There's a lot of sexism and a lot of racism at the same time.a lot of university didn't even accept women or people of color.

((English is not my first language, I researched and found out that the term "People of Color" is the best way to address, please tell me if I'm wrong))

In other words, this meant that Serenity was studying at university while dealing with a lot of things.

(I had to do a LOT OF research on whether this thing was possible (I hate racism and sexism SOOO much))

But in the 1940s, there were medical universities that accepted students of color.

Serenity studied at Howard University College of Medicine.

Also, the money and human connections that Alastor left her helped her a lot. It can be said that this path was nearly completely closed to the woman in that time(It was very difficult, especially if she came from a family with no money, that woman was usually just married off.),

But the door was open to Serenity, but she had to work in an inhumane way and she did it.

The reason she wanted to become a doctor was because people of color did not receive proper healthcare at that time. They're were not admitted to the hospitals, or even if they were admitted, they did not receive good service.

That's why Serenity wanted to become a doctor and then open her own clinic in her hometown, to ensure justice and help those in need. And she did this. When she announced that the she will open a Clinic, there were many people who supported her And they donated money to open her clinic and expressed their moral support for her. and she helped many people until she died.

She didn't even take money from patients who couldn't afford treatment This much. In return, patients always give her food or gifts. (There was a time when Serenity didn't even need to cook at home. She didn't need to buy food because she ate the food given to her as a gift)

I'm sorry for the lore dump, but while doing research, the more I saw discrimination, the more mad I became.

DEFINITELY! There is a possibility of such a scene There were probably men somewhere who tried to remind Serenity that a woman's duty is to be a housewife.

And Serenity be like: *putting a knife to the throat* Oh yes, If I should be a beautiful housewife.you will be a good fertilizer for the soil in my garden. Do you want to try??

After all other people's opinions are important, right?

-

And seriously the dialogue you wrote was beautiful!!

------

It was an honor to answer your questions!!!

-It would be really interesting if Lolicia and Giovanni meet!!

-I'm so glad you liked the background!!

-Yes, after all, "you can't force a dog to go hunting."(This is an idiom)And Serenity needs loyalty and love. There must also be fear, but such a structure cannot be governed by fear.

-Yes! I saw Lupine The third!! And I'm glad you liked it!!

-LMAO and yes!

----

-I seriously can't wait to see these two!!

Thank you for your return and I wish you a good day!! 🌸🌸🫂❤️

[shamebats]

As someone who was always too much of a feminist to have any affection for rural wedding traditions, I must admit I'm kind of obsessed with the approach they took here. That's some 4D chess guyboss gaslight gatekeep shit right there.

(chapter from Slovenology by Noah Charney)

Text below:

How Much for One Wife?

The final step before I could enter the church and wed my beloved was the barantanje ("bah-rahn-than-yay," the haggling). I had to buy my bride from the villagers — easier said than done, when I had to negotiate in Slovene.

I didn't like the sound of this "wife-buying" business from the start. Having to buy your wife brings to mind mail order catalogues and, of course, prompts the sticky question: exactly how much is she worth? 12.99 USD per pound? That was the cost of the outstanding illegal smoked pork provided by the neighbor — the one who had been laughing maniacally throughout my šranga. It's an awkward idea to fit a price to the love of your life, but it's even weirder when you're also expected to argue the price down.

At least my future wife didn't seem to mind being considered a tradable commodity. So if tradition called for me to buy my wife, then darn it, buy her I would. But not before driving down the price. The trick was to convince the villagers to cut me a deal without belittling the bride in the process and risking that she might shave my pine tree when we got home.

My best men and I developed a strategy. I had brought a Lonely Planet guide to Slovenia with me that morning, and I began the negotiations by stating that, according to my guidebook, the villagers were obliged to pay the groom in order for him to take the bride off their hands. In my opening gambit, I said firmly that I would not marry her for less than 300 EUR.

The best defense is a good offense, and this had the desired effect. Normally the groom is meant to squirm and argue about the sorry state of the village pavement or the odd odors from the fertilized corn fields or the fact that farmers are always laughing maniacally at nothing in particular, and thereby lower the price. But grooms regularly pay around 1000 EUR, despite their protestations. I insisted that my guidebook explained the tradition very clearly: the villagers were expected to pay me. When they tried to convince me that it was the other way around, I had two Slovene wedding guests step forward and say that everywhere else in Slovenia the villagers pay the groom — this local village must have had it backwards for the past few centuries.

My ploy wasn't going to work forever, but it did sow confusion among my challengers. In the end I relented and gave them the sum I'd intended to pay all along —exactly 300 EUR, plus another 12 that I found in my trousers. Not a bad price, considering that I was acquiring the woman of my dreams (and only 2.36 USD per pound, if you're keeping score).

The barantanje completed, and a not-insignificant portion of my wife's grandmother's homemade schnapps (first prize in this year's village tasting competition!), I was carried in victory up to the church, in the very cart which I had so recently filled with hay. Since I had survived the šranga, albeit a little tipsy, a little sweaty, and covered in a lot of sawdust, the wedding could proceed.

While finding true love and maintaining a happy marriage are certainly tricky, getting married in this modern era can be all too easy. We just pop down to city hall, or drive to Vegas on the spur of the moment to be married by someone dressed as Elvis. Gone are the days of earning a girl's hand through valiance, chivalry, and attrition: of the future King Charles I of England galloping incognito across bandit-strewn 17th century Europe to woo the Infanta of Spain, of slaying minotaurs and climbing through fields of poisoned thorns. While I'm not sure how well I would do if it came to minotaur-slaying, I am grateful that I could prove my love through sweat and feats of manliness, both to the villagers, who would finally accept me as one of their own, and to my beautiful wife.

Lots of people say that they would "do anything for love." But there, on that alpine hillside, with a sharpened scythe in my hand and a freshly-shorn pine tree at my feet, I can truly say that I did.

[fitzrove]

What kind of professor is Abronsius anyway?

Without calling out any writing in particular, I must say that it always makes me feel a bit weird when fics have prof. Abronsius be something like an anthropologist, linguist, cultural studies researcher, historian or even theologist. His approach is so deeply biological and physical that I have a hard time wrapping my head around it. At the same time, though, I get the urge to put him in those other categories - after all, that's the type of researchers that would study vampires (or vampire-related beliefs) IRL. But still...

My thoughts are based on following things in the show:

Abronsius' colleagues not understanding him and thinking he's a bit of a lunatic. If he was studying vampire-related beliefs in Transylvania, there would be little reason for a fellow cultural studies scholar etc to be disappointed or bewildered! Although I guess there could be church interference? But based on my historical and cultural knowledge, the Lutheran church of the 19th and 20th centuries (the now defunct Königsberg uni was protestant and more specifically Lutheran) wasn't that strict about "heresy" (even though they were quite strict about morality).

Him wanting to pickle Krolock in formaldehyde XD

A lot of focus on physical observations, practical vampire-slaying and hands-on stuff; a mechanical, "cold and hard" worldview, even. And him saying he took apart a cuckoo clock as a small child - very practical, empirical knowledge. His goal is to prove vampires exist concretely, not to examine why they have such cultural influence and power in the region.

His most famous (?) book is about bats!

Things that contradict this:

Aristoteles, Empedokles, Aeneas, Parmenides... Most of the ppl he lists enthusiastically in Bücher were political scientists or philosophers, with some mathematicians and doctors thrown in. Though this could be explained away with Abronsius being well-read, fancying himself a polymath of sorts and admiring the "great men of science" of the past. And like I said, a bunch of premodern scientists were kinda "jack of all trades" about it.

So tl;dr, I think Abronsius is a rogue biologist who got a little too invested after studying vampire bats for many years.

As for Alfred, I guess that makes him a biology student (could also be a medical student? Maybe that's me projecting what I know of 19th century Finnish scientists: a lot of them were folklorists and linguists in addition to their "primary" position as doctors), although that's left a lot more ambiguous. I think he probably isn't very passionate about his field anyway.

[tarnishedinquirer]

Roundtable Hold 2

After meeting Gurranq, I returned to the Roundtable Hold for the first time in a long while. Actually, that's not entirely true. I'd dipped back in a few times, but I hadn't spoken to anyone save Master Hewg and Fia. Diallos wasn't interesting, I had no use for Corhyn's incantations, and I had no desire to talk to Gideon or his bodyguard. Still, it was time.

I was surprised to find D sitting by the table. He said we were comrades-in-arms, a notion I decided I'd let him hold onto. When I asked him about himself, he explained his mission, which I will try to transcribe as accurately as possible:

"I serve the Golden Order. That I might put this crooked land to rights, following only the guidance of the great Elden Ring. Those Who Live in Death fall outside the principles of the Golden Order. Their mere existence sullies the guidance of gold, tainting its truth. And so it is the vermin must be exterminated... Down to the very last."

It was fascinating. The tortured loops of logic in one statement. If the guidance of gold is infallible, how could anything fall outside it? How does something outside of it sully its existence? The existence of an "other" is not a violence against the "self." A truth that has a contradiction is no truth at all, and destroying outlying evidence does not make your thesis any more true. And do not we, as Tarnished, fall outside of Grace? Does not this logic mean we are equally deserving of death?

I didn't bring this up. As a rule, I don't engage in debate with fanatics. They might as well exist in a different world.

He offered me a look at his prayerbook, that he might teach me for a fee of Runes. I politely declined instruction, but not before skimming his incantations and listening to the voice's commentary.

Litany of Proper Death and Order's Blade. Incantations of the Golden Order Fundamentalists, hunters of Those Who Live in Death.

The role of the hunters is to stamp out defiled reason - all for the perfection of the Golden Order.

How can reason be defiled, anyway? If anything the Fundamentalists were the ones defiling reason by mixing it with faith. If you search a holy book for guidance, all you'll find is justification for what you were planning to do anyway.

By now, I had amassed a decent store of Stonesword Keys, so I went downstairs to open the fog gate. Once the key slotted into place, the fog parted to reveal a grand dining hall. This place could not have been used for years, decades, maybe even centuries, yet it looked as if a feast had just been cleared. A clutter of dishes, but not a speck of dust.

A treasure chest in the corner caught my eye. Perhaps there was some new secrets in here?

I examined its contents with interest, but when the voice chimed in, my blood ran cold.

Crepus's Black-Key Crossbow. Black crossbow featuring a long stock. Used for sniping, it has a very long range. Weapon of Crepus, who served the Two Fingers from the shadows of the Roundtable as the head confessor.

The Confessors?! Servants of the Two Fingers? Surely not.

Black-Key Bolt. The intricate spiral tip bores deep, injecting scarlet rot far into the flesh of its target.

Yes. This was them. That wanton cruelty. I felt my blood boil. Were it not for the pacifism charm placed over this place, I would surely batter down that door and slay the Two Fingers myself. No... I needed to be calmer than this. Use my reason, not my rage.

This place is built on dreams and exists in the past. I found this behind a sealed-off gate. It's likely that the Confessors went rogue long ago and this is their only tie to the Roundtable Hold. Besides, the Confessors that imprisoned me were descendants of exiles from the Lands Between. It was a completely different organization, even if it shared common roots.

There was still another fog gate.

Inside is a smoke-filled kitchen. A stew sits on the stove and cured meats hang. It all smells so delicious. I take a bite, and but it turns to dust in my mouth. The meat is back hanging, without a bite taken out of it. Of course. This is fae food. It is made of dreams and memories, not physical reality. This place is but a reflection of somewhere else.

There is another chest here. I open it and find a holy book, for a certain value of holy. It's a prayerbook for the Roundtable Hold's assassins.

The incantations were written in some sort of code, likely using another liturgical text as a cypher, so I had to take the book to Brother Corhyn. He declared it heresy, said it bore no descent from the Erdtree, and immediately set about translating it.

Are not the Two Fingers related to the Erdtree? Don't they speak for it or something? How could that be heresy? And if it is heresy, why was he so eager to translate it? It seems he's a bit confused about his own faith. Putting together his mutterings and the voice's contribution:

Incantations of the Two Fingers' servants, who once served as the assassins of the Roundtable Hold. The assassins were charged with eliminating Tarnished who had strayed from guidance. The assassins were themselves once Tarnished who had strayed from guidance, and they pursued their duty in the darkness that is without grace.

So that's who the Confessors were. It gives them an extra incentive to condemn others when they themselves are condemned. And I assume that all they hunt are given the pirate's choice of sign up or swim home. Those who don't agree, die. Those who do, become Confessors themselves.

The translation seemed to take its toll on Corhyn. I think he didn't realize that this was in fact a part of his own faith. I pity his naivete.

Do the Confessors still work for the Fingers, or have they gone rogue?

Do the even still exist here?

Is there any communication between them and the Confessors beyond the fog?

Where is the real place this palace of dreams is built on?