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deadsetobsessions · 1 month

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Once more the hallucinations hit, and once more I am here writing it out.

My brain is fucking terrifying and I want out, so bad. This came to me in the form of a nightmare.

Also, please don’t take the timeline into consideration, because I have no idea what’s going on. Again, nightmares and dreams tend to not have the best coherency when it comes to plot and timelines. The reincarnation doesn’t have a name, I was too busy feeling terrified. Shit in parentheses was how I experienced the nightmare. Everything else is just me adding sprinkle sprinkle.

——

Ra’s al Ghul.

Talia al Ghul.

Two names that she had been aware of, in the peripherals of her hyper fixation. Two characters meant to enhance the story of the Dark Knight. Side characters, on a good day. Perhaps, a main antagonist on a better day.

On a bad day?

Main characters. Real, living people. Real, living, breathing assassins.

Unfortunately, they’re her new family. One she remembered coming into, bathed in a pool of blood and screams.

She was not a baby.

She is now, a baby. The first of Talia al Ghul’s children. The eldest, once Damian al Ghul was born.

Swaddled in emerald green and gold silks, she was presented to a man with silver streaked hair and a receding hairline. He too, was robed in green and golds.

“A daughter, Talia?” He rumbled, the smooth Arabic flowing out of his mouth failing to hide the acrid disappointment. The child, past the haze of confusion of suddenly being deported from her own adult body into one of a helpless child, felt a stirring of irritation. It’s good she learned the language, because now she knew exactly how Ra’s felt about her. The child grumbled a displeased sound. Not that she would have ignored the fact that her grandfather was Ra’s al Ghul. (He smelled like moth eaten fabric and blood- but I think that was because my cat accidentally scratched me.)

“My apologies, father.”

“Do not tell the young detective of this. Had it been a son, perhaps things would have been different. No, a daughter would only hinder him.”

Talia bowed, hands tightening on her daughter. “May I raise her, father?”

“A resource is still a resource. Go ahead, Talia.”

“Yes, father.” Talia took the dismissal and bowed before leaving.

On her way back to the room with the reincarnation’s crib, Talia al Ghul stroked her daughter’s head.

“I wish you were born a boy, my daughter. I am sorry my beloved will never know of you.”

The reincarnation looked at her new mother. She’s young, the woman-child realized. A teenager.

“You’ll have to be useful, my daughter. Your grandfather is not so kind as to keep the useless. I… do not wish for your death,” her mother muttered.

Great. She got new life and it’s already in danger.

——

She learned to swing a knife. Swords. She learned and devoured the teachings. She learned to be useful.

But then they asked her to take the life of a man who did her no wrong.

Her baby blues clashed with her grandfather’s Lazarus green.

She was still young. A child.

“No.”

“No?”

“He did no wrong.”

“He failed, granddaughter.” Ra’s smiled down at her, patronizing. Cruel. “Perhaps you possess your father’s heart, and you are foolishly sentimental, as women and children tend to be. But in the end, you are an al Ghul and you will obey. Plunge in your blade and I will reward you.”

The reincarnation looked at the man kneeling in front of her, resignation and a hint of pity in what little she could see of his face.

She’s already died before. What did she have to be afraid of?

“No.”

They tried to beat the weakness out of her. It didn’t work.

——

The reincarnation stared at the mirror, left alone in an opulent cage of gold and emeralds and precious stones that meant little to her now.

Her hands traced her back, small fingers finding purchase in soft skin. Her mouth opened fruitlessly, noise refusing to escape. She still felt the burning magic, the brand her own blood had carved into her skin and soul because she refused to kill. The chains her grandfather had shackled around her with magic and cruel amusement.

She had killed him, in the end. Obey, or be punished. Her body had moved without her permission, the reincarnation a prisoner in a body that refused to do as she commanded. The knife swung, a life taken, her hands dipped in red.

She learned a valuable lesson that day.

There were things worse than death.

“This is an order, granddaughter.”

The Magic had flared a searing heat at her neck, forcing her to kneel on broken legs. Ra’s loomed above, authority in his voice. She was bound to obey, regardless.

“You will never speak another word of affection, you will never speak another word to anyone unless I allow it. Perhaps this will teach you of your folly, and your place in this world.”

The loss of her freedom and the fear that came with it was a bitter and devastating lesson.

——

Ra’s al Ghul was so much worse than what little she knew of him.

She was right to be afraid for herself.

Her mother had worried, when she’d withdrawn and refused to speak to her. Even if she could, the reincarnation would not have wanted to. The reincarnation had felt furious, back then, when she thought of Talia. Her mother who refused to protect her. Her mother, who claimed she loved her but refused to see the chains Ra’s wrapped around her neck. She who plied the reincarnation with a supportive hand but forced her into the fighting pits.

But, as the reincarnation stumbled out on bruised and used legs from Ra’s al Ghul’s meeting chambers where he had allowed his business partners to partake in her, she realized that Ra’s was a monster in a human’s body and her mother was a victim of his making.

The lesson Ra’s taught her that day was that if she was not useful, if she did not kill, he would take what was left of her and make use of her.

Hate flared in her heart, and the beginning of Ra’s downfall began the day he let her go from the chambers alive. Injured, but alive. Injured and violated, but alive and furious.

——

She carved her hate and rage and helplessness and fear in the bodies of the people he bid her to kill. Her silenced screams were expressed in the way she splattered blood, the way she covered herself in it. A killing machine first, a stress reliever second, and a child… wasn’t on the list of things she was allowed to be.

His enemies were felled, one after another. He gave her his approval, something she detested.

But still, she continued, bodies racking upwards, tens turning to hundreds, hundreds edging into thousands.

The red in her ledger became ichor and guilt. Her language became violence and obedience.

“You have become a sharp tool, granddaughter.”

She was a genius, after all. And now, she could not disobey. A blade that Ra’s believed will never point towards him. She kneeled. She obeyed.

“Thank you, grandfather.” Her words were only allowed to come out- without searing, terrible pain- when she was thanking him. She tried not to do it as often as he wanted. He thought he broke her when he read the obedience she carved into her body language.

But she never bowed. Never. Not to him. Never.

——

“My weapon could learn much from your granddaughter,” David Cain sat across from Ra’s, wine in their stupid goblets. How she detested the green and blacks he’s seen fit to dress her with. She’s dressed provocatively, not of her own choice. She doesn’t have much of those- doesn’t have much in ways of choices- these days.

She was twelve, and Ra’s al Ghul deserved to die.

“Her combat is a higher form of what my daughter has achieved. How did you do it?”

When Ra’s began to reply, she slipped away.

She found the girl. She found… the cage- the black box- the child was placed in. The child flinched from her when she opened the metal box, fear only easing as the reincarnation kept her body language neutral and kind. (It was pitch black, and about the size of like, a closet. No light. Only from whatever door the box had.) (Cass’ hands hurt from banging on the walls to be let out)

David Cain’s daughter, her mind whispered, the memories of another life once more making itself known.

“Cassandra.” She whispered, regretting it immediately when pain wracked her body. She fell to her knees as the punishment for disobeying an order slammed into her.

The girl looked at her in concern, but did not move closer. The reincarnation stared at this girl and saw a reflection of herself.

David Cain would be here for a month. She will free Cassandra in those days.

——

The weapon stared at the girl in front of her, kneeling in pain.

She did not understand.

The girl came back. Water. Food. Kind.

The weapon felt warm. The girl was quiet. No sounds. Good. The weapon knew the girl understood. The weapon thinks that the girl is a weapon too.

The girl comes back, again. This time, she makes a sound. It hurt her, but she did it again. The weapon understands when the girl points at herself and repeats the sound. The sound means the girl. The girl expects something from the weapon.

The weapon makes the sound, flinching to see if the owner will come to punish it. The girl purposefully sits, relaxed but vigilant… and protective. Of the weapon?

The weapon relaxed. It repeated the sound, pointing at the girl.

The girl smiles, in pain. But approval. The weapon feels- the weapon is warm, like under the blanket. Approval.

The girl teaches her to make sounds but the weapon communicates without it. It does not like the sounds, does not need them, but the girl seems to think it’s important.

The weapon likes the girl, so the weapon learns. They still understand through no sounds, through reading each other.

The girl comes back, silently. Secretly. The weapon does not notify the owner. The weapon feels- does not want to.

The girl- the girl with the sound- she says a different sound. Her body tells the weapon that it’s important, this sound.

And when the girl points at herself and says her own sound, then points at the weapon and says that new sound again, the weapon begins to understand.

The girl had given the weapon her own sound.

“Cass—n- ra.”

“Cass,” the girl said, and Cassandra understood.

“Cass.” Cassandra pointed to herself.

The owner wanted- wanted Cassandra to end a life. Cassandra watched the owner kill and gesture to the dead thing.

Cassandra did not want to.

When Cassandra is placed back into the pitch black box, she waited for the girl.

The girl came.

“Don’t want.” Cassandra clung to her, reading the welcome and the sadness in the girl’s body. Cassandra tucked her face into the girl’s shoulder. She is cold. The girl is warm.

The girl hugged her back. The girl understood. Sadness hardened into lines of determination. Cassandra felt… light. Felt hope.

Cassandra slipped away from the place, water in her pack for the dessert and money to run from the country. The girl stayed behind, seeing her off. The girl tells her to never come back.

Cassandra did not want to leave the girl behind, but the girl could not go.

“Be free, Cass.” The girl had whispered through the pain. “For the both of us.”

——

Her grandfather knew. He allowed David Cain to break her, not kill because she was of use to him still, as a lesson. She found that she hated his lessons. But, she hated his attention more.

And still, she could not regret. How could she, when Cass trusted her with what fragile hope she had?

So, she lets him beat her, and provokes him with smirks and fearless eyes because the longer he’s focused on her, the more time Cass has to run.

Then, he gets too angry, and insults Ra’s, whose eyes grew cold. Her grandfather gestured and while she usually hated the command that followed that gesture, she could not feel that hatred now.

She got back up, legs broken and arms twisted once more, and attacked David Cain.

Ra’s would not follow Cass. Not when she was not his business to deal with, and not when David Carin’s fury amused him so.

David Cain would not follow Cass. Not while she still drew breath. The reincarnation stood, and threw herself at one of the best assassins of the century.

She tore his throat out with nothing but her teeth. She felt, for once, not like a monster. Not even when Ra’s nodded in approval and ordered for David Cain’s broken body to be cleaned up.

——

She’s been granted a mission in New Jersey, once her months of discipline- of torture- ended. She does not get ordered to find Cassandra. She’s fourteen now, and as silent as ever. Her mother had adjusted to her silence by then- long ago, actually, taking it as a quirk her daughter had developed. She hadn’t been a terribly vocal child, after all. Talia praised her for being useful even as a woman- the self degradation something the reincarnation had no doubt Ra’s had insidiously trained into Talia- and for being loyal to Ra’s.

Sometimes, she hates Talia for being- for-

Never mind. She couldn’t afford to hate anyone else.

She killed her targets early, determination and wistfulness urging her movements into sharp . Then, she made her way to Gotham and slipped into the city of darkness- where her father was.

She watched as he hid in the shadows almost as easily as she did. She watched as he flew and glided with the younger Robin. (He was younger than her by a year. She checked.) He was free. They were free.

She wished…

As she turned away, she saw a child tumbling from the edge of a roof. It was an instinct she’d thought Ra’s had managed to bury after the months he’d spent making sure she killed only children.

She hated him.

She caught him, swooping in and tucking him against her side as she plucked him from the air and plopped him back onto the crumbling roof of Gotham’s slums.

“Oh, thank you! So much- are you a vigilante?” The boy asked, looking at her masked face. It’s a good thing she wasn’t exactly dressed like a regular League operative.

She shook her head. Her eyes fell onto his camera, faint memories rising once more. She had an inkling-

“I’m- uh- Tim!” The boy introduced himself nervously, edging away from her silence. “Thank you for saving me…?”

She nodded. She pointed to the camera, tilting her head.

“Oh- you… want to see it?” He clutched his camera closer. Oh, he did have some sense of self preservation. She wondered why a seven year old was allowed to roam these streets… but she did worse at seven.

She held her hand up and back up. The boy hesitated, and then showed her the camera. “Uh- I took pictures of Robin and Batman!”

They sat on that roof for hours, and she let Tim Drake tell her stories about her father and his son. Ward. Son.

She could tell that Tim didn’t have anyone to listen to him.

She didn’t have long until she had to go back or risk severe punishment, but… she could make time for Tim, to listen to him.

She wondered if Cass managed to escape completely. She wondered if her sister all but in name and blood learned how to smile.

——

Tim had never had a friend before!

She listened to him! And gave him hugs the one time he was brave enough to ask! And she seemed to like Batman and Robin as much as he did! No one who didn’t like them would listen to his endless rambling otherwise, right? (Tim was super skinny, like ribs poking out skinny. He looked like a sickly Victorian child and he was kind of cold)

“And then, Robin went like this,” he pantomimed the awesome punch Dick Grayson did on a Joker goon. “And the guys got knocked out just like that!”

His new friend nodded, looking interested.

“Sorry, am I talking too much?” Tim asked anxiously. He didn’t want to make his friend hate him!

She shook her head, and gestured for him to continue.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded.

His new friend was so cool! She even taught him how to throw a punch and to fight!

——

When she had to leave, she prepared Tim for it.

“Do you have to go?”

She nodded and placed a hand on his head, ruffling his hair. Her other hand held a duffle bag with an assortment of weapons she carefully kept from him. (One of the blades still had guts on it, which, ew.)

“Try not to fall off anymore roofs, little photographer.” She said, smiling at his shocked look before leaping away.

“Wait, you can talk?!” He shouted at her back. She smiled a little wider.

——

“A son, this time.” Ra’s al Ghul’s voice echoed in his disgustingly flashy throne room. It rings of approval.

The reincarnation stood behind her mother, eyes cast downwards.

“Well done, Talia. I finally have a worthy heir.”

Damian al Ghul cooed.

The reincarnation was scared. But… she could not allow her younger brother to be trapped like she was. She’s fifteen now, a decade of slavery having worn her down and nearly broken her. But with her brother… no, she could not allow it.

She met her mother’s eyes and knew then that they agreed. Protect Damian, at all costs.

She ignored the sting of envy. So what her mother could not find it in herself to protect her daughter? So long as she protected Damian, it didn’t matter.

Maybe she didn’t matter. Maybe she wasn’t worth anything. Maybe- maybe- maybe.

She also ignored the seed of disgust she had for mother’s actions in conceiving Damian. She couldn’t do anything about it. Talia was also a victim.

A louder voice in her asked if she could really excuse that, when Talia had a choice and she chose to hurt and violate Bruce Wayne like that. She wondered if she could truly ever forgive Talia. She wondered if Bruce Wayne got therapy.

——

She stared at the tome in front of her, eyes blank. (Actually, she had no eyes. Like? Empty sockets, but then later she had eyes???)

The brand- the shackles- the chains could only be broken if Ra’s died. She wasn’t opposed to that. But if he died, so did she. She couldn’t even kill herself to get out, because the chains would be there even if she died. If she was revived- a high chance, thanks to the fucking pits- then the chains would still be there.

Perhaps… she could use the pits?

Her mind turned and turned.

——

“This is your ukht.” Her mother pointed at her. Damian stared up at her, and she melted. Her brother was too damn cute.

“Ukhti?”

She nodded as her mother smiled in joy. “Yes, habibi.”

She was better at hiding the pain, now. She was better at enduring it, too, that fucking burning feeling. She spoke more, but only to Damian.

It would not do for her brother to grow up not knowing how to receive verbal expressions of affection. Not like she did, in this life.

Still, it hurt to speak. But then, she had an idea, based on Cassandra.

She could not speak, but speaking wasn’t the only way of communication. She’ll teach Damian sign language- standard, as commanded- but also her own version. Yes, she could do it. It wouldn’t be hard.

She was a genius, after all, and creating languages wasn’t as hard as people seem to think.

——

Damian copied her, small fingers patting his hand four times.

She did it back to him. “I love you.” She tells him, with sounds and with motions.

He does it back, excitedly, because he had a secret with ukhti!

——

Sometimes, she dared not to touch Damian. She wants to ruffle his hair and give him hugs but the ichor on her hands reminds her to not get to greedy. She did not deserve it.

Not when her hands were stained with the lives of so many people.

——

Another mission.

She was twenty now, and not much closer to escaping her bonds. Though, once she hit her majority, Ra’s lost interest in her in that way. A blessing, even if she had to seduce his “business partners” into giving him better deals more often now.

She stops by Bludhaven. The Robin she watched so many years ago- six, by her count- had grown new wings and moved. She wanted to see if he could fly still.

He could. He flew as free- no, freer than his days as Robin.

She dipped away to complete her mission (nuclear weapon trading, really?) and swings back to see a spider trying to break the former Robin’s wings.

“No.” Nightwing whispered, staring upwards at the cloudy sky blankly. “Please, stop.”

She didn’t need to hear any more. She saw red, and dove feet first straight onto the spider’s head, knocking her out.

She picked up a near-catatonic Nightwing, and helped him to his apartment. She left Tarantula in the rain and felt zero guilt about it.

He changed mechanically, some kind of instinct keeping him from removing his domino, but it was a bit pointless considering she escorted him to his personal apartment.

She watched as Nightwing slipped into an exhausted sleep before leaving. She had a spider to squish, and traces to hide.

——

Dick wakes up, drained and exhausted. He… someone saved him.

He sees a scrawled note, handwriting impeccable enough to be a font, written with his pen. He picked it up from his table, and his eyes tiredly read the message.

“Don’t worry about Tarantula. Or your identity.”- A friend.

He remembered- the mask- the mask of the stranger that saved him vividly. He’d remember. And he’d thank them if they ever came back.

——

She was in charge of training assassins, these days. A year and a half later after Bludhaven, she was back in Nanda Parbat, and she’s devoured every magical tome she could get her hands on. They all say the same things.

Her assassins were trained well, and Ra’s praises her with more responsibilities as he followed the pit in his obsessions. Her mother began to splinter the group, not knowing that as Ra’s began his descent into madness, people looked towards her instead of Talia for leadership. They did not know that her unwavering presence by Ra’s side wasn’t voluntary but it is their true that she became his right hand out of pure skill. And flawless obedience, of course.

Then, someone new joins.

Someone with pit rage and empty eyes that goes rigid when she approaches.

Then again, most of the operatives freeze up when she walks towards them.

Her memories roar. A child.

He bowed, and her eyes followed the streak of white hair at the forefront of his skull.

She gestured at him to follow, and ignored the pitiful eyes the rest of the assassins gave to the kid- they act like her training was hard when she went easy on them (it was)- and led the kid towards the training rooms.

She knew who he was, even if her grandfather and mother didn’t think she knew.

Her… Bruce Wayne would probably appreciate his son being returned relatively sane.

But first, she had to beat the Pit out of him. Then, she could assign body guarding duties to him, in an attempt to protect him.

——

“Grandfather, I will take Damian’s punishment.”

“A whipping girl, granddaughter?” But he nodded anyways. He made Damian watch.

She kneeled and allowed the punishment. She couldn’t always protect him from Ra’s, but this she could do anytime. It’s not like she was unfamiliar with the torture. (The whip had barbs. Rusty. And they sprinkled salt.)

——

“I liked poetry….” Jason Todd tells her after a training session. “I think.”

“Sure. I’ll call you Grave, then.” Pain. But she was used to it.

He tilted his head, eyes going blank once more. She sighed. There went his memories again. (His eyes were blank and glazed. Like looking at someone you love and knowing they’re looking through you.)

——

“I would not trust her,” she says to the air, next to a Red Hood emerging from Talia al Ghul’s chambers. She could see it, the beginnings of Gotham’s new crime lord. But still, “Talia al Ghul is known for her lies.”

She pushed away from the wall. It was up to Grave if he listened. It was out of her hands now.

——

She’s twenty-five, and she’s helping Damian pack for his first meeting with Bruce Wayne.

“You must not tell him about me.” Because he’d come rushing here, and she had worked too hard to save Damian for her fool of a father to come and ruin all of that effort.

“I promise.” Her little brother said solemnly. Ukhti said it out loud, which meant it was important and she expected him to keep that promise.

The only other time he’d heard her speak was to tell him she loved him.

The reincarnation smiled and told him through their special sign language, to treat the current Robin with respect and to try his best to get the current Robin to pass down his title.

‘Robin is earned. They have different rules, over there. Try your best to learn those rules.’

Her brother was sheltered. She loved him, but he was spoilt and sheltered. Of course she was worried. Talia barely mothered him.

“I know. You do not have to remind me so often, ukhti.”

She smiled, and patted his head.

“Be safe,” she whispered. “I will miss you.”

Damian darted in for a hug. “Of course. Goodbye, sister. See you soon.”

She hoped not. It was hard enough to convince Ra’s that Damian would learn more under Bruce Wayne.

(She was locked in a small closet- like Cass- for about a week, because she brought up the idea first.)

——

She found it.

The answer to pit rage laid in an old, all but crumbling tome from Atlantis- answers “from a ghost.”

——

Bruce Wayne died. Months after Damian came to live with him. That- irritating- she sighed and worked with her mother to turn Ra’s al Ghul’s attention away from Gotham, lest he called Damian back in Bruce Wayne’s absence.

The little photographer caught grandfather’s attention. She stood vigil as he played chess with Ra’s. His interest in Damian wavered. Anticipation blurred in her veins.

She saved his friends. Her assassins. She let them go, telling them to wait for the little photographer’s plan. (Y’all miss girl had fucking bloody handprints on her pants like someone tried to grab it.)

The first few people who had an inking she might not be loyal to Ra’s… and it was them.

When her other assassins attacked Red Robin, she cut them down before they could touch him, helping him with a furious League of Spiders or whatever operative. She hated spiders.

“What…?”

“You’re a lot of trouble, little photographer.” She sighed. His jaw dropped.

“It’s you!”

“Go,” she cut him off. “Blow this place up. I left a surprise for you outside.”

——

“Owens?! Z?!” Tim trembled, exhaustion and shock and wonder hitting him at once.

“Heya, boss!” Z chirped. Owens helped Tim up while Z helped Tam. Pry walked around them, looking out for further threats. “The nightmare trainer let us go. She knew you, I think.”

Tim smiles, all shark teeth and zero hero. (In the background, the song zero to hero from Hercules 2, played in reverse.) “Tell me more.”

——

Damian grunted, bracing himself for the magical creature’s attack.

“Robin!” His father barked out, panicked. Damian hoped he’d survive-

Shhhlk!

He looked up and there stood his ukht. She bounded forwards, using the odd fauna of the magical plane to bolster her movements as she sliced the creatures apart with her swords, magic humming brightly as she cut through them… and the magicians attacking them.

“What- what are you doing here?” He asked. She greeted him, three fingers curled over her shoulder.

‘My question is,’ she signed. ‘Why were you here without a magical weapon.’

Damian sighed as father stepped in between them.

“Who are you.”

“Batman. Cease your excessive worry. I trust her with my life,” Damian snapped. He stepped around a shocked Batman, looked him in the eyes, and unsheathed his katana. He handed it over to his ukht, who took it with amusement.

‘See?’ His eyes seemed to say. Father tensed when his sister unsheathed her own blade and handed it to him.

‘Are you here for a specific reason?’ His sister signed to him.

“Uh, you gonna introduce us, little man?”

Damian sent the Flash a derisive look and ignored him.

“We’re looking for a magician. He set a squadron of demons loose into D.C. last night. He has a tower.” Damian added.

“Robin,” Father growled. “Who is this.” Damian shot him a look and turned back to his sister.

The reincarnation tilted her head. ‘Tower… it’ll have to be that way.’

“Could you take us there?” Damian asked. Truthfully, he could find the way himself. But he wanted more time around his ukht. She nodded and Damian straightened.

“I feel like we should be concerned that Robin’s friend just murdered a bunch of people.”

His sister glanced back and ignored them.

“Silence, incompetents. Speak another word against her, and Batman’s no killing rule will be applied creatively.” He hissed. (The fucking surroundings hissed with him y’all what the fuck)

He turned when his sister ruffled his hair (Superman muttered a super shocked “what the fuck.”) and Damian allowed it. He had missed his sister.

——

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audreyscribes · 5 months

Text

Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS:

💖 APHRODITE: Goddess of Love and Beauty 🕊

author's note: I had a sudden idea about writing some headcanons Camp Halfblood demigods being claimed and what it's like for each respective god and cabin, followed by a small blurb afterwards. Thank you for reading and please like and reblog! The order is not in order of the cabin numbers. [PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS MASTERLIST]

When you arrive at camp, you’re already got eyes following you. There’s something about you that draws people’s eyes to you. It could be your face, your hair, your eyes, your hands when they move, how you walk, how you move. So when you get claimed by Aphrodite, your fanfare is totally expected by others and unexpected when you get a magical makeover by your godly mother’s blessing. You’re dressed to the nines, your look done up perfectly like you're a movie star walking on the red carpet. People stare at you with awe and you can feel it.

The moment you are shown the Cabin, all you can think of is “Oh god it’s a god dang barbie mansion”; this may either fulfill your deepest childhood dream or your worst nightmare.

There’s gossip everywhere in the cabin. You’re hearing about people’s love lives, social interactions, and everything about the people in camp. Even if you’re not as romantically inclined yourself, you’re practically spoiled for choice for hearing about drama. There may be no TV or shows for you to watch, but this is the next best thing. It’s like the Kardashians, House Wives, and Golden Girls all the same.

Shipping. So much shipping. Shipping between campers in your cabin and outside the cabin. Shipping between movie stars to literal characters. Heck, even self-shipping is encouraged! It’s a shipper's galore.

The Aphrodite cabin likes to have fashion runs. A lot of the Aphrodite demigods become models and do a catwalk. But if you’re not that interested in being a model, there are still ways to participate.

If you like to design and make your own clothes, the Aphrodite cabin has your back. You have access to all types of fabrics, patterns, and materials you could need. You have no shortage of models for you to work with. If you’re interested in doing make-up, cosmetic or movie makeup, you have plenty of people to practise on. Even if children of Aphrodite have the ability to have permanent makeup and whatnot, it doesn’t mean you still can’t use your skills to be on fleek.

You know the meme where you see a woman putting eyeliner with the sword to make sure it's sharp? You see that way too often.

You're swiftly proven that functionality being sacrificed for fashion is a myth. It can be done and it has been done, but it's just some outweigh functionality with AESTHETICS

Stans. Stans everywhere. People don’t usually see the Aphrodite kids fight and break character unless it comes to their stan. If you haven’t seen them fight before, you do now. You’re still reeling from the BTS stans.

K-dramas. K-pop. Enough said.

You look at yourself as best as you could, it was both familiar yet foreign. It was like looking at the mirror, seeing yourself and all the positives of your body. Even if you had a negative view of yourself, it was gone and changed.

A girl stepped up, her black hair swaying, and you looked at her in awe as she smiled at you. “Hi! My name is Silena Beauregard, welcome to Cabin 10!”

“Oh hi” you said lamely, but before you could say anything further, you saw a large amount of pink in your vision. “Oh my god” you couldn’t help uttering as soon as your eyes laid on the Aphrodite cabin. It was pink in glory, and all you can think was that it was a true to god barbie house.

“Ah yeah,” said Selina, “Welcome to the Barbie house.”

“Wait it’s really called that?”

“Well, we really shouldn’t be calling it a Barbie house, but ... .I do admit it is pretty much a barbie house” Selina whispered in the last part.

You couldn’t help snicker and Selina gave you a knowing smile and wink, before she led you to the door.

“You ready?” she asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be” you replied after taking a deep breath.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be here for every step of the way” she reassured and you smiled back. As soon the door opened, there was a waft of perfume. It wasn’t particularly strong or particularly bad, in fact it made you happy, but you could smell it anyways. There was a twinge of emotion that stirred up in you; it reminded you of smelling a perfume that reminded you of home and love…for some reason, you had a flash of a woman holding you to her chest and you burying your nose into her, your eyes closing with warmth.

“Hey everyone, let me introduce you to our new half-sibling!” introduced Selina, gently putting a hand on your shoulder. You raised your hand and waved, introducing yourself. That was all it took before the flood work came. Immediately, all the inhabitants in the cabin begun to interview you from where you were from, your favourite colour, your favourite colour, band, and etc-

Your head was absolutely swimming but as you all talked to each other, sharing your likes and dislikes, you had a feeling you were going to be alright.

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caffeinewitchcraft · 1 year

Text

Fate and Mercy and Dead Girls

Summary: Sometimes, when things go very wrong, the Chosen One gets a wish. That’s where Danielle comes in. (Tagged with Blood, violence, child death)

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Danielle is cursed.

This battlefield is nice. It’s early afternoon and the breeze that comes from the forest to the east is sweet. The fighting has only just begun and the scent of blood is still hovering at the edge of her senses. It hasn’t erased the taste of the dead girl’s last meal – bread sweetened with honey – yet. She’s used to storm clouds the size of mountains roiling overhead, the electric sting of lightning against her skin, the crash of blades against armor and arrows against shields. The sun is warm and honey-sweet against her cheek and there’s no fighting going on right now. There’s only the low murmur of voices from all around and some muffled sobbing.

If she weren’t waking up in the body of a dead girl, she’d call it picnic weather.

Time to pay attention.

“—Chosen One is dead,” a man says. His voice matches the weather more than the situation. Calm. Even. Gentle. A wave lapping at the shore before the tsunami. She can feel his aura undulating through the ground, dark and demanding. Demon King? Mad Emperor? Dark Lord? One of those types. He projects his words over the renewed sobbing. “Do you see your folly now, honorable knights? The wasted months of defiance? You were never going to defeat my army even with years and seven fabled soldiers at your mercy rather than the one. Here, the day of your final rebellion, your Hero lies dead after only one volley.”

Hero. Danielle is cursed, she shouldn’t be feeling pity for anyone but herself. But there it is, the familiar bile in the back of her throat, the prickling of her eyes, the tightening in her chest. This dead girl was their Hero. They made her their Chosen One. From the feel of it, they didn’t school in her magic or train her in swordsmanship. Her muscles are burning from death, yes, but also from overexertion.

What do you want? Danielle asks. All of the right systems are under her control now. The ground is cold against her back, the girl’s tiny curls a tickle against her face. The air is sweet underneath the scent of a dying blow and she can hear the conversations around her clearly. The Dark Lord is still gloating, giving the knights their time to mourn and his own forces time to ready the next attack. Sweetheart, what do you want?

The girl’s soul shudders. I-I’m not dead?

The arrow pierced your heart. You’re dead.

A dizzying swirl of emotions cloud the girl’s next words. Grief-sorrow-panic-relief-fury-horror. Danielle has to reinforce her barrier between her soul and the girl’s to avoid being swept away by it all. All of the dead girls Danielle is called to are strong, and this one is no different. Danielle can’t hear her clearly over the roar of her emotions, but this one is talking very quickly.

…live…wanted to…please…save…

Danielle peeks out from under her eyelashes. It’s bright for a battlefield, but there’s a familiar red staining the ground as far as she can see. The armored feet of both sides’ soldiers are about thirty feet away, a hazy barrier of magic holding them apart.

“Let down this barrier!” Knight David screams. The girl’s knowledge flows into Danielle’s mind like a spring. He’s the head of the kingdom’s number one knight squad, a former S-rank adventurer, and a mentor to the Hero. He bangs the hilt his sword against the Dark Lord’s barrier. It crackles under the assault and doesn’t break. Knight David swears. “You’ll die for what you did! She was just a little girl!”

Another memory: Knight David didn’t think of her as a little girl. He gave her a woman’s sword that took her a month to learn how to lift, much less wield. He told her he had faith in her. He told her she could do it. When she asked how, he pushed a curl behind her ear and told her victory was fated.

The Dark Lord laughs, the sound like the tide retreating into the sea. “Is the kingdom so hard-pressed for soldiers they bring children to the battlefield?”

“She was Chosen,” Knight David says. There are genuine tears in his voice. “Nobody wanted that for her. Nobody.”

“She was nobody,” the Dark Lord says. The magic barrier trembles and he smirks. “Just as you’re about to be.”

Knight David’s magic sets his sword ablaze. “You’ll pay for this.”

The demons chitter behind the Dark Lord, straining against his commands. They want blood. They want to attack. They saw the Hero fall and they’re emboldened by her death. They’ll tear the humans apart.

In contrast, Knight David’s forces aren’t so sure. Knight David’s teeth gnash and he swears at the Dark Lord, but his men look from her body to each other. It was so quick. So fast. Did they demons hold greater power than they were told to kill a Chosen One so quickly?

“Prepare yourselves,” the Dark Lord says. The barrier fades.

“To the death,” Knight David swears.

Danielle presses again. They’re running out of time. What do you want?

Save them.

The words roar through Danielle’s temporary body. Save them. Her magic ignites like coal in a furnace and she gasps, steam escaping from her lips as a dead girl’s heart restarts.

“W-what?” someone whispers.

Danielle opens her eyes.

It’s not a very big war. There are maybe thirty combatants on the side of the Kingdom. She assumed from the girl’s memories that they’d all be knights, but there are adventurers mixed in among them as well as the occasional wizard. They’re all kitted out in the colors of the Kingdom though. Armor painted with the Royal family’s crest, bandanas with the fallen star motif embroidered on, red tassels on their weapons. Maybe they don’t have the Kingdom’s army behind them, but they have the King’s favor.

The Dark Lord is the only one who’s managed to keep his mouth shut after her sudden resurrection. His side is comprised of dark wizards in tattered robes and nearly a hundred demons. Danielle can see wolves the size of horses, goblins with wooden clubs, and vampires hiding in the tree line. It looks impressive, but the girl’s memories tell Danielle a different story.

This is the last stand for both sides.

“The Hero lives,” Knight David says through bloodless lips. He’s younger than Danielle thought, his beard only just touched with silver. His eyes shine wetly and he raises his sword over his head. “THE HERO LIVES!”

Knights, adventurers, and wizards lean back and scream their jubilation to the sky. Some of them weep openly, staggering as close to her as the Dark Lord’s barrier allows with their hands spread wide as if to embrace her.

The Dark Lord is silent as the kingdom’s forces rejoice. He looks like a human though he’s gone to great lengths to hide that fact. His long, black hair is twisted around his horns, emphasizing them. His clothes are as tattered as his forces’ and there’s dried blood staining the hem of his cape. His nails are long and painted an unending black that makes them look like talons.

If it weren’t for the depth and darkness of his magic, he wouldn’t register to Danielle as a Dark Lord at all.

“Hero,” the Dark Lord murmurs. His red eyes gleam a beat before his pupils swell, turning them black. He doesn’t raise his voice above the noise, but magic makes it so Danielle can hear him easily. “Killing you quickly was the last mercy I had for you.”

“Mercy,” Danielle says. The word echoes from her involuntarily. She pulls the arrow from the dead girl’s chest. The wet and meaty sound of it finally silences Knight David and his allies. She coughs and tastes blood.

“The fates have seen the justness of our cause and protected the Hero,” Knight David says into the silence.

“Fate,” Danielle echoes and coughs blood again.

Knight David doesn’t hear her. His chest swells. A talented orator, he knows just what to say to erase the horror of her death and reinvigorate his squad. “Dark Lord -no! – Demon, you’ve lost.” He points his sword directly at the Dark Lord. “You just don’t know it yet.” The knights cheer.

Oh, Danielle thinks, he knows it.

The Dark Lord stares down the length of Knight David’s blade impassively. His lip curls into a sneer that must look truly demonic to the knights of the kingdom. But from her vantage point, Danielle can see the way his clenched fists tremble. The barrier wavers imperceptibly and then holds. The Dark Lord can’t sustain it for much longer, not if he wants to have enough magic to fight.

As soon as it falls, the kingdom will strike. And, with the Hero on their side, they’ll have the conviction (and the magic) to take on a thousand demons. The Dark Lord only has a hundred.

Danielle staggers to her feet. This body is on the weaker side of the ones she has inhabited, but it’s not the worst she’s had to work with. Her legs hold her weight and the heart beats strongly once she uses her magic to patch it.

Knight David grins at her, the fever of battle bright in his eyes. “Hero!” He holds out his hand. “How glad I am to see you alive! Cast your strengthening spell.”

A memory: They taught her to strengthen her allies and nothing else. Training sessions ran late into the night as they pushed her to expand her range, power them up more, amplify magic higher and higher. This girl knows exhaustion more intimately than the affection of another.

Knight David slashes the barrier. He doesn’t wait to see if she’ll obey. Of course she will. This dead girl has never defied him before. She owes him and his kingdom too much. Who else would elevate an orphan to the heights of a Hero? He strikes again and this time his blow leaves a crack in the Dark Lord’s magic that splinters out like a spiderweb. He grins meanly. “Come, soldiers! Reclaim our land! Defend our home! Defeat evil!”

The knights smash their weapons against their shields and bare their teeth. “For our homes! For our families! For good!”

“Kill,” the Dark Lord hisses as his barrier fails piece by piece. He leans towards Knight David like a snake about to strike. A sword as black as night materializes in his hand. “Kill them all.”

“Hey,” Danielle says, “don’t you think you’re moving on a little fast?”

Nobody hears her. Nobody asks her if she’s alright. Nobody cares.

It’s Danielle’s curse to care.

The Dark Lord’s barrier crumbles. The air fractures and fragments tumble from the top and towards the combatants on either side like sparks. It’s ten feet in the air, eight feet, seven feet--

Her magic billows from her like smoke, scorching the grass as it balloons forward. Blood burns and vaporizes under the heat. The wolves are the first to notice it. They whine and back away from her wave of power, cowering behind their lord. Danielle hisses through her teeth and her power surges a little faster, touching the Dark Lord’s magic before the demons can alert their master. She’s powerful enough to do this even with him fighting her, but that would be…messy. She wrests control of the barrier from the Dark Lord. She builds it back up to twenty feet tall and adds new walls. The King’s forces used to be the only ones trapped. Now the Dark Lord turns and blinks at the misty cage that’s formed around him and his army.

The sudden silence hurts her ears as hundreds of eyes follow the scorch marks from the barrier to her.

Knight David’s sword wavers. “Hero…?”

“Your Hero isn’t here anymore,” Danielle says. Experience tells her to rip this bandage off quickly. She gestures to the dead girl’s clouded eyes. “Did you really think she survived an arrow to her heart?”

She can see from their faces that they did. Knight David opens his mouth and then closes it. He swallows hard. He says, “You’re not—” His face hardens. “Who are you?”

The Dark Lord watches her with black eyes, but he’s not still. His power tests her control of his barrier. He doesn’t find a crack.

“You called it fate,” Danielle says. She limps towards them. There’s an arrow in the girl’s thigh she didn’t notice before. She pulls it out without breaking stride and throws it to the side. The furnace that’s consumed the dead girl’s heart churns with rage. “You lot always believe in fate. Makes everything you do look prettier, doesn’t it? More palatable.”

“It is fate. The Oracles of Trilbia spoke of a girl with untold power who would be our savior. We needed—”

“LOOK AT HER!” Danielle roars. She slams a hand against her chest and then holds her palm high overhead. Red shines wetly on her palm. “She was a child! Fifteen summers and you stand there and call her a savior?”

“I ask again,” Knight David says. His eyes flash. “Who are you?” He draws his sword point slowly, purposefully, away from the Dark Lord. He points it directly at her. “What have you done to the Hero?”

Danielle won’t answer stupid questions. “You’re cruel. What you did to her – nothing can justify it. Especially not something as fickle as fate.”

“The Oracles—”

“Should die,” Danielle interrupts. She bares her teeth. “Or at least be honest. If they wanted a child sacrifice, they should have killed her on an altar with their own hands.”

Knight David hits her barrier. It throws him back and he shakes with rage. “Who. Are. You?”

“And you,” Danielle says, turning her attention to the Dark Lord. She holds her bloodied palm out to him. “You speak of mercy. You think giving her a quick death mercy?”

To his credit, he doesn’t deny it or flinch away. He nods shallowly, eyes never leaving hers.

“There was mercy, I’ll give you that,” Danielle says. She staggers towards him and stops just short of the barrier. They’re barely two feet apart when she says, “It was her mercy that she died quickly. Not yours.”

The Dark Lord’s nostrils flare. “I don’t understand.”

“You will,” Danielle promises. Her heart aches. This isn’t the time for that. She stokes the fires of her magic until steam escapes from her lips again. Only then does she twist towards Knight David again. “You killed this girl. You threw her into battle untrained. They may have shot her, but it was you who brought her here. This is your fault.”

“You’re some malevolent spirit,” Knight David says. He sweeps one arm out as if to banish her. Behind him, his forces tremble. “A vile devil come to sow seeds of doubt. Our conviction is firm. Oh, monstrous devil! Release our friend, release the Hero and your end may be swift yet.”

Devil? Danielle loses hold of her rage for a moment. Yes, yes she supposes she is. There are forces at play here that she might call devilish. But being called a devil by him?

Ridiculous.

“Maybe you should pray,” Danielle suggests. She nods slowly, warming to the suggestion. “Yes, that’s what you should do. You should pray the big, bad devil away.” She approaches his side of the barrier and the grass withers under her feet. “Pray, Knight David.”

“Hold fast,” Knight David says to his knights. He raises his sword to her and braces himself. “Do not be swayed by—”

“No, don’t pray,” Danielle says. She laughs without humor, chest shuddering with the effort. “Prophecize. Summon a hero to defeat me. Go on. Do it.”

“You will pay for the horrors you’ve committed today. Wearing the skin of the Chosen One damns you to the furthest—”

“Oh, fine, I’ll do it for you. There will be a knight,” Danielle says. She lurches forward and presses her hands against her barrier. Knight David stumbles back when it moves with her, allowing her closer and closer. She laughs again. “A Knight with red splashed across his breast and his shining sword melded to his hand.”

Knight David chokes on a scream as her words become truth. His sword melts under a sudden wave of heat, the silver-plating dripping through his fingers. He falls to his knees and grabs his wrist, trying to shake his hand free of the molten metal. It cools as rapidly as it melted, and he stares in horror as the silver binds his fingers to the hilt forevermore.

Danielle comes closer and the kingdom’s forces flex away from her like a school of fish in the face of a predator. “And this knight,” she says, “will be a Hero to his people. He will rise through his pain and destroy the devil that wore the skin of the little girl he sent to slaughter.” She spreads her arms wide above him, the sun beating down on her crown, and waits. After a beat she says, “Go on. Make the prophecy come true. Stab me. I’m waiting.”

Knight David keens through clenched teeth. “Y-you monster. You w-won’t—” He breathes in deeply and glares up at her. His feeble attempts to raise his arm don’t move his sword more than an inch. “You won’t break me.”

“I don’t have to,” Danielle says. Her arms fall to her sides, and she looms over the fallen knight. The air isn’t sweet now. The smell of burning flesh is more familiar than blood. “She didn’t ask me to break you.”

“Didn’t ask?”

Danielle turns. Unlike the knights, the Dark Lord isn’t backing away from her. He’s as close as he can get, pressed right up against the barrier. He’s rearranged his forces while she wasn’t looking so that the hardier demons are shielding the smaller.

“Didn’t ask,” Danielle agrees. She taps her temple. “Right before she died, I asked her what she wanted. See, nobody here gave a fuck what she wanted before she died. Fate is fake, but belief isn’t. They believed hard enough that the universe heard their pathetic little prayers for a savior. And, at the end, it took pity, but not on them. No one cared so it sent me. I asked what she wanted. She answered. Now we’re here.”

Knight David shudders at her feet.

“Are you a spirit of vengeance then?” the Dark Lord asks very casually. His shoulders are tense, undermining his nonchalance. He speaks a touch too loudly and very carefully doesn’t look back at his army. “Is that it?”

“I’m what she asked for,” Danielle says. She eyes Knight David’s comrades. There’s a wizard somewhere in there valiantly trying to heal Knight David’s wounds from afar. It’s slow going so she ignores it. “Though, between you and me, I think some vengeance is owed here, don’t you?”

The Dark Lord’s jaw flexes. “It is.” He raises his chin. “And you shall have it. I only ask that you let my people go. They are blameless in all this and only had the bad fortune to follow a misguided lord—”

Howls and screams of protest drown out his words. The demons lunge against his orders, mouths frothing and eyes wide in fear. They don’t want their lord to die, they deny his words, they can’t bear to lose him.

The Dark Lord’s power snaps over them and they quiet all at once, voices stolen by his power.

“Let it only be me. Please,” the Dark Lord finishes quietly.

Danielle watches him with interest. “You would die for them?”

“I return the loyalty I’ve been given.” He bows his head. “I will beg if you’d like.”

“What makes you believe I want your death?”

“I know my part in the Hero’s fate,” the Dark Lord says. His lips thin and he stares down at Knight David with more hatred than she thought possible. “Humans brought her here to slaughter, but I gave the order. I called it mercy to kill a child quickly so she need not suffer. We both know I lied. I killed her to keep her from strengthening the kingdom. No matter how I did it, it wasn’t mercy. It was evil and it was…not necessary. It wasn’t necessary but it was easier than the alternatives and so I killed her. I resigned myself to carrying that sin before I ever stepped foot onto the battlefield.”

Oh. Danielle has to blink very quickly as heat rises behind her eyes. The Dark Lord isn’t lying. He isn’t hiding from the truth of his actions nor is he justifying his hand in the Hero’s death. There is sorrow in his voice and his hands are loose at his sides even though his eyes are watchful, waiting for her to strike. He’d let me strike him down. He will stand there and do nothing while I slit his throat.

“It was wrong,” Danielle says. Her throat aches. “It was wrong to kill her.”

The Dark Lord’s head sinks lower. “Yes. It was.”

“She was a child.”

“She was.”

“She didn’t have a choice.”

“I know.”

“She deserved better.”

“Yes.”

Danielle’s chin trembles. This— after all the dead girls, this is a first. “You did it to save your domain.”

“I did.”

“It was evil.”

“Yes. The most evil thing I’ve done.”

“She didn’t ask me to kill you.”

“Ye—what?” The Dark Lord blinks, finally looking back up at her. His eyes are red again, pupils dilated. “She didn’t?”

“No.” Danielle lets the barrier slip out of her control. She can see the Dark Lord more clearly without the wall of smoke and his eyes are more than just red. They’re red-rimmed. Danielle reaches up with her bloodied palm and cups the Dark Lord’s cheek. He shudders at the chill of her touch but doesn’t pull away. “You had no mercy today, but she did. She knew her power would mean the end of your people. She knew she would not be able to resist the order to cast her spell when they gave it. So when the first volley came, she didn’t run. She didn’t raise her shield.”

“Mercy,” the Dark Lord breathes in revelation. His face crumples. “Oh.”

“She died quickly,” Danielle says. The girl’s memories are so hot that Danielle feels burned. All the dead girls are strong. This one is not an exception. “She knew an evil thing would be done today. She chose. She chose.”

The Dark Lord’s voice is thick with tears. “She shouldn’t have had to. She—No!”

Danielle doesn’t know what’s happened at first. The Dark Lord is staring at her in mute horror. His cheek is stained red but her hand is no longer on his cheek. Then she processes that she’s been hit quite hard in the back. She looks down.

A bloody sword is sticking out of her chest. It retracts with a sickly sound and Danielle finds herself on her knees, staring down at the river of blood gushing from her breast. She let down her barrier to speak to the Dark Lord, face to face. She didn’t think she’d be leaving her back open to the other side. Or, rather, she didn’t think Knight David would recover enough to kill her again.

“The devil speaks lies,” Knight David says. His words are thin with pain. He can no longer raise his blade to the sky. His arm is trembling from the effort of stabbing her but still he faces his forces and spurs them to action. “And lies have no place in our kingdom! Our friend, our Hero died for us! So we could win! So we could prosper! So we could—”

He killed her again.

Danielle surges to her feet. The dead girl’s heart is torn to pieces in her chest, but Danielle’s magic surges through her veins like blood. She rises up behind Knight David and shrieks, “Stop killing her!” She drives her hand through Knight David’s chest and rips out his heart.

It happens too fast for anyone to react. The Dark Lord holds his breath and the world goes still. Danielle lets the heart fall and the thud as it hits the grass is loud in the quiet.

Knight David sways once, twice, and then drops to the bloodied ground.

“You didn’t have to die,” Danielle says. She’s looking at the other knights and adventurers and idiots who believed in fate. She’s talking to Knight David. “Even after everything you put her through, she didn’t want you dead. She was good. She was great. And you killed her for it.”

“Mercy,” someone stutters. Then, another. “Mercy, please.”

“No,” Danielle says. Petulant. Like a child. “You didn’t stop him. Not a single one of you tried. She didn’t tell me to save you.”

They combust before they can run. A long time ago, her power wasn’t as controlled. Her fire didn’t get hot enough fast enough. They screamed back then. Screamed and wailed and cursed.

Her fire doesn’t give them a chance to curse her now.

When it is done and she’s satisfied that nothing but ashes remain, she turns to the Dark Lord. He doesn’t flinch from her though there’s fear in his eyes. Even now, he expects her to kill him. Even now he accepts it.

“Bury her,” Danielle says. The fire crackles behind her. “Clean her body and dress her in new clothes. Bury her somewhere where war hasn’t touched and say something kind over her grave.”

The Dark Lord swallows twice before he can speak. He doesn’t ask if this means she’s going to leave him alive. He understands what she means. He says, “I-I will.”

“She saved you,” Danielle says. She wants him to understand that. “She could have wished for anything. Revenge. Peace. A second chance. She didn’t. She wished to save you.”

“She will be honored,” the Dark Lord says. He breathes in deeply and gently reaches out to cup her cheek, an imitation of her earlier touch. His palm is warm against her cold skin. If he is repulsed by the feel of death, he doesn’t show it. “I will see to it.”

Danielle closes her eyes. Though she doesn’t lean into his touch, she doesn’t pull away. It is the singularly most affectionate moment she’s experienced in decades, but it’s not for her. “Her name is Samira.”

The Dark Lord releases his breath. “Samira. Thank you for telling me her name.”

Danielle lets her curse sweep her to the next dead girl.

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Thanks for reading! If you’d like to see stories like this or some more serialized stories, please consider supporting me on Patreon (X)! Currently I’m working on the Cinderella retelling I have posted on here :)

See y’all next week!

#my writing #long post #The Chosen One #original short story #danielle is cursed #child death #violence

3K notes · View notes

the-desilittle-bird · 11 months

Text

AN- Serving you these sweet preferences is my duty... even though it means failing mathematics test, cause I can't pass it anyway 🤣

Requests are always open and well appreciated!

Thank you and Enjoy your reading!

HOTD Preferences

Defending Your Honor

Characters- Daemon Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen, Otto Hightower, Corlys Velaryon, Cregan Stark and Criston Cole.

Warnings- Slut-shaming, Curse, Murder (Daemon and Aemond), Fighting and Cutting off... something

Daemon 'Rogue Prince' Targaryen

You were Daemon Targaryen's paramour, with nothing to your name but his love and devotion. A mere dressmaker who somehow charmed the prince.

While your relationship was purely based on emotional supports and the physical attributes followed way later, the nobles didn't share the same thoughts.

Behind your back, you could hear their derogatory comments over you, questioning your relationship with the infamous prince.

"She must have a tight cunt for the prince to keep her so close."

"I am sure she is a witch and has fucked her magic into prince Daemon."

"There is no doubt that she will be ready to fuck and undress herself in front of anyone for money."

While Daemon would hear anything about himself with amusement, hearing things as such for his beloved made his blood boil.

In a feast in the honor of his own nameday, he made sure you were seated next to him with the Royal Family.

The family was welcoming but the courtiers weren't.

And he hears them again.

And goes crazy.

At the abrupt end of the feast, the Noble degrading you and your honor was taken to the Silent Sisters with a separated head or probably something even harsher.

Aemond 'One-Eyed' Targaryen

Aemond loves you a lot.

Everyone loves you, honestly. Except for some who think you are some scheming bitch, which secretly includes Otto.

During a normal session of the court, Aemond hears a member of a vassal house of Lannisters speaking rubbish about you.

Your honor was put to question and he won’t have it that way.

Interrupting the session, he calls the man ahead and when the spotlight is upon that man.

Aemond starts announcing the young lord’s “accusations”. And the whispers start.

But they are abruptly put to stop, by Aemond’s sword cutting off the lord’s head; much in a way Daemon had drove Dark Sister through Vaemond Velaryon.

And followed a long monologue about you and defending your honor and a threat of what shall happen if he is disobeyed.

All while that dead lord’s blood painted his face.

Otto ‘Hand of the King’ Hightower

You are his wife, or maybe courting each other, or betrothed to marry.

Either way, he is protective. Very. Very. Protective.

You are younger. Beautiful. Almost goddess like.

At a feast, you talk to a lord.

And there goes numerous rumours.

While Otto doesn’t believes it, others do.

And then, one day, you admit it. That the rumours were troubling you a lot.

And next, you hear that the man responsible for the rumours could never have children again, had you overjoyed and smirking. Found with the sigil of House Hightower next to him.

That was the very clear message to all.

Corlys ‘Sea Snake’ Velaryon

Corlys is possessive and protective of you, his darling wife.

You were from Dorne, and your Dornish practices aren’t quite far from your heart.

And that includes the flirtatious comments.

Corlys enjoyed that. But the other lords and ladies had a field trip, making rumours and what not.

When they hear them, he is angry and he throws a feast, intending to show what honour these people were talking of.

The feast was all normal except the wine was specifically strong and the servant ladies were all dressed provocatively.

And all of the lords were leering and everything.

Next morning, he organises a breakfast. And gives a loud and clear announcement.

All of it while the lady wives of those men were present and fuming with rage at the humiliation.

In directly, never talk bad about Corlys Velaryon’s wife.

Cregan ‘Wolf of the North’ Stark

You were of South and you arrived in Southern style.

And it made the lords of the North send you leering gazes.

And you were bold to admit it to Cregan who softly replied with:

“I apologise on their behalf, my lady. I shall see to it that it is taken care of.”

It was. But for only a few weeks.

And then came the feast before your wedding to him.

And the lords were drunk and again dishonouring sentences were exchanged.

The smile on your face was long gone and your jaw sat in a gesture of displeasure.

And it seemed to do something to Cregan. For one second, his direwolf was in front of the table; the other, that drunken lord was on the floor with the direwolf growling at his face.

“Since this day ahead, no one shall dare to dishonour my wife, your lady. Or, you shall not like what shall happen.”

And the smile on your face is sweet as you looked at your betrothed.

Criston ‘Kingmaker’ Cole

You were only a friend of his at that time.

And a Dornish lady.

A beautiful lady who was close to a member of King’s Guard.

And boom! There are rumours.

Penting up everything in his chest, Criston blasted when he heard a comment about you in the training grounds.

He challenged that knight or lord to a combat fight.

That fight ended with the lord being beaten to near death while Criston’s fists were bloodied.

You were told way later that something like that happened.

And while everyone were rather angry at his action, you were very very proud.

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon preferences #daemon targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #otto hightower x reader #corlys velaryon x reader #cregan stark x reader #criston cole x reader #daemon targeryan #aemond targaryen #otto hightower #corlys velaryon #cregan stark #criston cole

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rebdekarios · 3 months

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Gale headcanon Part 2: Wedding Day

Part 1 Here

Galemancers, y’all really liked my first post with all of Gale’s (very likely to be real) wedding planning/day of antics.

I do think this would make for a fun fic and I wanna write it, but yours truly is not in a position to start any new projects at the time being (not saying it will never happen, just right now isn’t a good time!). However, I still wanna add more to this goofy idea of mine.

Here goes!

Wyll giving them lessons for their first dance as a married couple. It’s as hilarious as it is painful to watch. Gale has two left feet and keeps stepping on Tav’s toes. Tav cries out in pain and Gale feels awful so he conjures a rose to apologize.

G: “The Soirées in Waterdeep don’t move with such grand gestures and arduous foot work!” W: “That’s why you asked me to help you, Gale. Baldurs Gate throws magnificent parties.”

Gale keeps reading and rereading spell based cookbooks to try and whip up the reception meal in one fell swoop. He doesn’t trust a caterer and wouldn’t like the taste of anyone’s food but his own.

Tav keeps begging him to let someone else do the work since he’s stressing himself out with these small details, but all Gale does is smile and give Tav a pat on the head and a kiss on the cheek.

G: “Don’t worry about me, my love. Our day will be perfect, just like you are.” T: “I don’t want it to be perfect, I just want you to relax and have fun.”

Tav goes to a separate room to sleep the night before and finds their bed adorned with flowers and petals in heart shapes

Tav finds a note beneath all the bed decorations

“My dearest love, I write this with nervous hands and a fast-beating heart - we are almost upon our wedding day. What seems like a grand milestone is only just the beginning of an even more remarkable adventure. Our days of journeying through Faerûn may be over, but it only prepared me for the most important journey of them all: being your husband. You are everything, Tav. You have made me a better man. My connection with you is as innate as mine with magic itself. From this day forward, I will devote the rest of my life to your happiness. The beginning of that chapter is upon us both, and I am nearly bursting (despite my lack of an orb to make it so) in anticipation for it to begin. With utmost love, your soon to be husband - Gale.

Tav won’t be able to sleep so instead they read this letter over and over again 🥰

Gale lets Tav wear whatever they want on their big day and even paid for it

He just wants his bb to be at their happiest and this is the least he can do

Tav ofc hires Figaro the dressmaker and Zara the mummy to do makeup

Gale turning around and seeing his spouse for the first time the day of 🥺

He’s literally unable to breathe when he sees them walking down the aisle, however he is partly relieved because he was still anxious about Tav getting cold feet

Gale tears up as he reads his vows 🥺

Their wedding rings bearing the same gem that Tara has on her collar

Scratch is summoned 🥺 and becomes a permanent member of the Dekarios household, and even gets his own gem at the ceremony 😭

Owlbear gets the distinct honor of being ringbearer. He takes it very seriously. Because he knows he will get a snack for it later.

“Withers I would like to recruit a hireling” says Gale *puts an apron on the hirelings to have them clean up after the guests*

Halsin whittles them a pair of swans with their necks in a heart shape as their wedding gift. It becomes Tav’s most treasured knick knack in the tower.

Lae’zel gifts them a pair of swords, which is probably customary for her but not so much for couples in Faerûn (Gale fashions a coat of arms above the hearth with them anyway)

Astarion: “I am the gift.” 🙄

Tara finally begins to warm up to Tav when she fully realizes that Tav makes a great addition to the Dekarios family

Tara shows this by flying into Tavs lap and rubbing her face against Tav

Lasts for only about 30 seconds however. She can’t be seen letting her guard down to anyone.

The night ends, Gale and Tav retreat back to the tower with full hearts and a gleam in their eyes, proud of all they’d done to build their lives and excited for what comes next.

But there’s still going to be copious amounts of sex that night of course. They barely get past the threshold of the doorway before they’re ripping each other’s clothes off.

They’re drunk, but not just because they’ve had a few drinks. Love drunk, adrenaline drunk, life drunk.

“They deserve this night, after all they’ve been through,” Karlach says to Wyll as they are walking back to the portal to Avernus.

“Some day that will be us,” Wyll replies proudly.

💜

#Gale dreamt of his wedding day since he was a boy ok #gale dekarios #bg3 #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #baldur's gate 3 #gale x tav #baldurs gate gale #bg3 tav #gale romance #bg3 epilogue #bg3 headcanons #bg3 fic #galemance #gale fic #gale headcanons #tara the tressym #wizard of waterdeep

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calisources · 3 months

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𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐋, 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐒.

All sentences on this meme have been taking from different media and sources. They all touch on the topics of romance, difficult and forbidden love, mostly setting in the political schemes of war and peace and royal court. Change names, locations and nouns and you see fit. Some lines might have foul language.

Sometimes we hurt the ones we love, but hurting ourselves to avoid it doesn’t make it better.

Could someone treat you badly and still love you?

Even so, in the midst of this complicated love, there is a holy union.

Love is complicated. It’s sticky. It’s bliss and it’s a mix of emotions. It’s not easy.

I hated him now because I has loved him then.

I'm not like you. I can't afford to be reckless.

When have I ever, since the first instant I touched you, pretended to be anything less than in love with you?

Are you so fucking self-absorbed as to think this is about you and whether or not I love you, rather than the fact I'm an heir to the fucking throne?

You at least have the option to not choose a public life eventually, but I will live and die in these palaces and in this family.

She wears a crown that never should’ve been hers.

Your wish is my command, my queen.

You can always leave my service.

Don’t you see, Diana? If I did that, I’d break not one but two hearts. For I know you love me, though you haven’t said it yet.

You do know me. I love you so much, it sometimes terrifies me.

You are going to regret that, Your Magical Regalness.

Just because I am a prince doesn’t make my life a fairy tale.

So kiss the others for all I care, but don’t hold back with me.

You are enough to drive a saint to madness or a king to his knees.

He didn't marry you to become king. He became king because he wanted to marry you.

I know I have but the body of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the heart and stomach of a king.

I believe we are what we make ourselves, and as such, you, Crown Princess, are nothing.

You, what are you? The brat of lucky parents who were related to a childless king.

Rule with the heart of a servant. Serve with the heart of a king.

There’s a fine line between gossip and history, when one is talking about kings.

You can't treat royalty like people with normal perverted desires.

We kings do develop a certain ability to recognize objects under our noses.

...alone is such a nebulous state when one is queen.

I respect you as my king, and I respect you as my father, but I do not respect you as a man.

You're the most important person I've ever met. And I should have never met you at all.

Desires are what can most easily ruin us, lovely.

I find that happiness can always be recollected in tranquillity, Ma’am.

It's almost impossible for those who have had an intimate relationship to return to a formal one.

I question if within you is any magic.

You’re my princess, right? You were always going to be my princess, no matter what you were born.

The king is a saint and cannot rule, and his son is a devil and should not.

For kings, the world is extremely simplified: All men are subjects.

A king deserves reverence when being addressed.

Yes, she had abused her title and station before, but for minor stuff, not to steal a warship.

You are a king worthy of their allegiance . . . with a queen full of fire and promise.

When God calls you into His Kingdom, your way of life will reflect royalty if you serve Him with loyalty.

My royal status is both a shield that protects me and a sword that impales my heart.

You know, for a pampered princess, you have a certain gift for violence.

I have to be seen to be believed.

Kings needn’t raise their voices to be heard.

That is your very own myth. The idea that how you are born or the name you are given dictate the sort of person you really are.

I know that names have power. That is why I cannot let her forget hers.

You’ll have to face it, Princess. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but soon enough. And you can’t be this scared when the time comes.

A bad king revels in his importance. A good one hates his office.

Crowns belong to those that serve.

She was their witch queen, and they adored her.

Beatrice is going to be queen someday.

Kings are only kings because one ancestor was quicker than another to place a crown on his own head.

Queen, do not allow a commoner to dethrone you. Own that throne. You are royalty.

A throne won in blood will soon be drenched in it.

My mother once told me that everything is fuelled by either money or sex, because both lead to power.

Even when she's dethroned by hardship, she still wears the sun as a crown.

She holds a nation’s fate within her shaking hands. She wears a crown that never should’ve been hers.

My reign has been anything but traditional. Let’s not start now, shall we?

Oh honey, someday a real man is going to make you see stars and you won't even be looking at the sky.

Every girl thinks about growing up in a palace. Few ever ponder living in a cage.

Climb up the family tree of any of them high enough and you’ll find a commoner who dared to take a chance.

Am I forbidden to do what all may do?

My arrival saved the kingdom, while his only reiterated that his blood would fill the throne one day.

Slow down there, princess. How do you know what kind of first impression you gave me?

So none of the young men we encountered during our season gave you hot pants for them?

If stubborness were all that was needed to be a good queen, I'd rule the world.

I’d decided that I was going to stop dressing like a princess and start dressing like a queen.

Don’t touch me. Don’t tell me how beautiful my eyes are, how soft my hair is, how you love to hear my voice. Don’t. Don’t pretend you are falling in love with me.

I know you are lying, and every word you say hurts even more.

Before the wedding, and the bedding, when I will have to take you as my lord and husband?

I may not be a king or a queen, but I'll be damned if I'm not treated like royalty.

He is fragile, like a prince of ice, of glass.

It is natural that men are going to gather round me, hoping for a smile.

Men only treat women like princesses when they want to use them like prostitutes.

You can smile when your heart is breaking because you're a woman.

I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't do anything but think about him.

Anyone can attract a man. The trick is to keep him.

To save my son, I would plot with the devil himself.

Only fools wait when their enemies are coming, to see if they may prove to be friends.

When a man wants a mystery, it is generally better to leave him mystified. Nobody loves a clever woman.

I wanted the heat and the sweat and the passion of a man that I could love and trust.

I am a fool to own it, but I am in a fever for your touch.

And you are the sort of mistress a man doesn't bother to marry. Sons or no sons.

#roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. )#rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt #political scheme #royal schemes #royal betrayal #romantic heartbreak

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nolongerapileofashprobably · 11 months

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Botw/Totk Zelda is so precious to me. She’s been through SO much.

From being the heir to the throne, her image tarnished by the fact that despite daily rigorous training, she is unable to access the sealing power that is her birthright. Her mother died before she could be taught and her father was not magical in any way, so all he could do was continue to order her to train. When she tries to expand her research in order to help in some other way, since her magic is stubbornly kept locked away, she is berated, constantly gossiped about, and is referred not as the Princess of Hyrule, but rather the ‘heir to a throne of nothing’. No one had faith in her. No one believed in her.

King Rhoam couldn’t understand and had to act as a King, causing Zelda to suffer even more. These are the reasons Zelda doesn’t like Link in the beginning. Not only can she not figure him out, because he won’t say anything, but she thinks he despises her. And she can’t stand to think about how Link accomplished his goal as a mere preteen by being chosen by the sword. Whereas she has struggled daily to access the sealing power.

And then she finally realizes Link’s own determination matches his own and his dedication is one she can relate to with her own life. So she apologizes. She gets to know Link. She asks why he doesn’t speak much and he trusts her enough to confide in her. They bond through the shared fate to seal away the darkness. And then get to know each other as just Zelda and Link.

It’s the first time either of them can truly relate to someone and they find comfort in each other.

So while she did have the support of the Champion’s and Link, all of whom see her commitment and how much she truly wants to help and despised herself for her inability to access her power, Zelda is still trying to handle the rest of the kingdom and her father’s scrutiny. And that’s an insane amount of pressure on someone who already has an entire kingdom worth of pressure already placed onto them from birth. Imagine knowing that your kingdom not only talks down on you but has no faith whatsoever in you. And it just bogs you down as you hate on yourself and continuously blame yourself for shortcomings not in your control.

That’s what Zelda was going through. And guess what? Link failed. The Divine Beasts failed. Zelda failed. Everyone. Failed.

And the reason was because Ganon had far more influence and power than they anticipated.

People go and paint Zelda as a privileged know it all who is completely stripped of any flaws in ToTK— which is completely ignorant of the canon events. It’s an opinion founded on the fact that Zelda’s development in this game is not focused on the flaws of a teenage girl with the weight of the entire kingdom on her twicefold. Instead, ToTK is focused on Zelda’s growth as a leader which is a concept some people cannot understand, as they are stuck on the flaws Zelda worked on as she matured and embraced her new life (aka she isn’t miserable and stuck in the past).

Zelda is a leader who has, in the span of half a decade, put in place new survey teams, a new military, an education system, and drew in more people to repopulate the desolate land of Hyrule. It’s implied that the Sheikah tech was completely cleared from the land for fear of it being manipulated again (if you go on top of Hateno Research Lab the Guardian is legitimately chained down rather than just placed atop the building with minimal support). Zelda traveled and visited the land of Hyrule, met with various people and began to relearn her kingdom through the sparse population that still existed.

Zelda went around Hyrule and did what she could to strengthen the culture of Hyrule and truly make it a kingdom rather than a loosely strung together ghost of a kingdom. She placed monuments with silent princesses. A flower now described as: “This lovely flower was said to have been a favorite of the princess of Hyrule. They were once feared to have gone extinct, but it's not uncommon to spot them growing in the wild.”

And to have a kingdom that actively adores Zelda, who has grown so much as a person and tries so so hard is finally having her effort seen and appreciated by all. Zelda is loved because the entire point of totk is to show us Zelda having everything this time. She was adored by the people. She was finally in a place with herself and her people that she never had before. She had Link, who never left her side and made themselves a home in Hateno (this isn’t even a shipper goggles moment, this is the basic interpretation of the original game and canonical evidence).

Zelda, even back in the past, was given a supportive father figure and a teacher who also represented a mother figure. She continued to be her nerdy self and research Zonai tech, finally gaining the answers of the Imprisoning War that she so adorably gushed about when they found the ruins beneath the castle in the beginning of the game. Her research wasn’t put down nor her theories dismissed. It’s everything Zelda was deprived of in botw. Everything.

*spoilers for totk ending below*

And that’s the reason her sacrifice is so devastating. Because she chose to give up her life, her mortality, everything she has fought to achieve, just to ensure Link, who she has complete faith in, had the Master Sword to finally rid their Hyrule of the darkness. Zelda made that choice thinking there was no possibility of her coming back.

So to completely dismiss Zelda because she is saved by the two parental parents is absurd? Zelda made a choice that would end life as she knew it just to save the home she built back.

There’s also people blaming Zelda for not putting Ganon and Ganondorf together but the thing is that she did have a theory? And she did speak out about her uneasiness of Rauru reaching out to Ganondorf? Which, btw, is an echo of OoT Zelda warning her father of Ganondorf’s evil intent, only for it to be ignored by the king (who dies for his mistake). That sounds familiar, right? Because it should. The Zelda universe is pretty much founded upon reoccurring factors each age that ultimately lead up to a catastrophic event or other tragedy.

Yes, this is rather dull when you look at it from a broad perspective— but that’s the case with a ton of media. It’s in the details and the differences that draw us into the fictional universe of Zelda. People don’t need to love it— nor do they have to abide by these reoccurring factors. In fandoms and such, you can explore different possibilities, swapped roles, darker circumstances, softer fluffier moments, and so on. That’s the beauty of fandoms.

But warping stories and character actions to fulfill a narrative completely opposite of what the canon implications (and actual facts in some cases)… it usually serves the purpose of hating a character. Now, everyone has the freedom to do this. That’s 100% true. But the insane amount of takes I have seen, particularly regarding Zelda in ToTK, led me to write this post that explores her actions and developments from a pretty strict canonical perspective. Obviously, I am biased and not everyone will agree with me. That’s okay.

I simply find comfort that my interpretation of Zelda in ToTK is supported by the narrative, development, and all the characters (including Link). Because everyone adores Zelda. They all see how much she cares and it’s even said by Manny in Botw that everyone is thankful and grateful for the Princess, because she’s the reason everyone (atp) is still around. Zelda is adored by the survivors not only because she kept the Calamity at bay for a century, but also because she spent time and got to know them.

Which is why it’s so hard for everyone to believe that the puppet Zelda causing mayhem was intentionally being malicious. It’s completely out of character. And because of Zelda and Link’s travels between games, they all know who she is at heart. And that is a healing, compassionate Princess who just wants to know the people of Hyrule once again. This isn’t to erase Zelda’s flaws. It deliberately shows us the stark difference between Hyrule before the Calamity and after it. One looked down on her and made her feel incompetent.

This one now cherishes her and sees her for the hard-working girl she is.

It’s all about giving a character everything they were deprived of and then ripping it away from them. It’s a new sort of growth for Zelda’s character. And yet, she has not lost who she is: a nerd who must ramble about her findings. (To link specifically, but like we all know that)

And that is why I absolutely adore her. She’s phenomenal.

#I have more thoughts on her but I’m currently on holiday so I am a bit busier than normal #this is all things I’ve said before but oh boy does it make me scratch my head when I see takes that are just so outrageously wrong in canon #zelink #totk spoilers #tears of the kindom spoilers #loz totk spoilers #totk Zelda #botw Zelda #totk zelink #botw zelink

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morganbritton132 · 1 year

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You said that you did not have tiktok, so you have likely not seen it but there is this series called roll for sandwich in which this guy makes a list if ingredients (like a list of types of bread that he has, vegetables, roughage, sauces, wild magic, etc) and each option has a number, so he rolls DnD dies and randomly makes sandwiches and rates them

Very popular, it has inspired a lot of spin-offs, people love it. He always starts with “Hello DnD tiktok and beyond, welcome to roll for sandwich a series were we let fate decide our lunch” it’s great.

My point is, Eddie would definitely do something like that but with one of his many hobbies and post it on TT.

I have not seen this, but I do love the concept. I do think I might’ve seen a spin-off though because my sister sent me a video of a girl using a d20 to decide which chore she was going to do next, and I can definitely see that one being used in the Harrington/Munson household.

Every summer begins with a deep clean.

Steve shampoos all the carpet. He pressure-washes their driveway. He declutters the entire top floors of their house. Eddie, if he is a smart man, cleans his studio.

Eddie is not always a smart man.

He gets distracted, or bored, or he just doesn’t want to do it, but this year, he’s determined. He makes a list of everything he needs to do and everything that he wants to do, and then he numbers it. He even starts a live-stream to give him more incentive to stay on task, and it works for a while.

He rolls the dice and gets a 4. He changes the burnt out lightbulb in the overhead light.

He rolls the dice and gets a 17. He dusts and reorganizes their record collection.

He rolls the dice, gets a 11. He paints the sword on his latest miniature.

He rolls the dice, gets a 9. He moves the couch to get the guitar picks that have fallen under it.

He rolls a 15, takes a break, gets distracted by a box of old tour memorabilia.

The chat is not helpful with getting him back on track because they are more interested in the stack of postcards that Eddie pulled out of the box. They need more than Eddie saying that Steve kept every postcard he sent him, especially when he looked at one of them and said, “Ha! In this one, I asked him to send me some dirty pictures. If I remember correctly, he did.”

An hour later, Eddie’s like, “Maybe I should get back to cleaning.”

He rolls again, scores a 20. Eddie looks at his list and reads, “Do something you want to do.”

He thinks about it for a second and then reaches under the couch and pulls out some ancient looking walkie-talkie, “Eddie to Stevie, do you copy?”

Eddie releases the button, waits a second, and then repeats himself. He does this a few times before he gets back, “What do you want, Eddie?”

“Wanna fuck?” Eddie asks. “Over.”

There’s a long pause and then Steve says over the line, “Did you vacuum?”

Eddie, who did not do that, says, “Yep.”

“Okay,” Steve says eventually. “Come up here.”

Eddie smiles brightly and tosses the walkie back down on the couch, before taking the stairs two at a time. The room descends in silence and then you hear static from the walkie followed by Dustin’s voice saying, “If you’re going to make a booty call, use your own frequency. Over.”

#Dustin texted Steve to let him know that Eddie was calling for him on the walkie and then got subjected to their phone sex #also Eddie did try to make soup once using the luck of the dice and it did not go well #Steve was sick and wanted chicken noodle but the soup was mostly onions #it was almost entirely onions and broth #eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson

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nillegible · 20 days

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Threefold

(For @ladyteldra, who shoved me into this unexpected rabbit hole, but then stuffed it full of content to make me happy)

No one had noticed during the war, as wars were rather distracting. But it was hard not to notice when they got home.

What was left of home; it was still a work in progress.

At first Jiang Yanli excused it away as the magic of Lotus Pier going awry because of what it had been through, but by the second week of reconstruction she tracked down a copy of the Entail from one of the surviving caches.

It shouldn’t have mattered.

Jiang Cheng was the chosen Sect Heir, their Father had made that clear when Jiang Cheng turned fifteen, and Lotus Pier should know that.

(Except Lotus Pier would have felt Mother, then Father, then Jiang Cheng lose their cores here. It might have thought… Perhaps that would explain why…)

When she gently probes Wei Wuxian for his thoughts on their misbehaving inheritance, his face goes stricken and over the next week he dives into the scrolls himself, more thoroughly than she had.

Jiang Yanli had not meant to distract Wei Wuxian from his own self-loathing and his eerie ghost-brides, but that is what it amounts to, in the end.

“Do you think,” Wei Wuxian says finally, over dinner, eyes red and wild like he’s been drinking (clearly distinct, to her, from the red and wild from raising ghosts), “That when Wen Zhuliu. When he – that it broke what marks you as heir?”

Jinag Cheng stiffens at the reminder, and frowns at their brother. “Would that…? But BSSR fixed it.”

“What if it’s not the same core as before?” asks Wei Wuxian, vehemently. “Doesn’t it” he waves a hand towards their surroundings, “feel like it did when we were younger? Before you came of age?”

That’s exactly what it was, Jiang Yanli realizes. The magic of Lotus Pier felt familiar for all it was acting slantwise; it was exactly how it had been before the heir had been named.

“What does that mean, then?” asks Jiang Cheng, standing up. “I’m not the heir, then?”

“You shouldn’t be the heir,” Wei Wuxian says. “You should be the Sect Leader.”

“You’re saying the Lotus Pier doesn’t want me,” says Jiang Cheng. Jiang Yanli lays a hand on Jiang Cheng’s elbow.

Before she can speak a word, Wei Wuxian says, voice final, “No. I’m saying I think the Lotus Pier thinks you died.”

Their ravaged, gutted home is recovering steadily, with new disciples, new responsibilities, new buildings.

Their new Sect Leader and his right hand aren’t doing so well.

“If it thinks you’ll do better, then fine! Be the sect leader!” Jiang Cheng had yelled at Wei Wuxian one day, terrifying Wei Wuxian who insisted he didn’t have the right nor did he want to, and setting off quite a row (“Oh, so Lotus Pier just isn’t good enough for you, huh? Where DO you want to go then?”). Naturally, that escalated into a more physical fight, and when punches were landed and brothers elbowed in the gut and flipped onto their backs, swords were drawn (“You still won’t use your sword? What if I run you through with mine? Pick up your sword, goddamn you!”) which came to a screeching, horrific halt when Suibian unsheathed for an incensed Jiang Cheng.

Wei Wuxian had a lot to explain.

Jiang Yanli doesn’t think Jiang Cheng will ever forgive Wei Wuxian for this, but she patches them both up as best she can, listens while each rants about the idiocy and foolishness of the other. She talks down one little brother from his stated plan to find Wen Qing and make her switch the cores back, and coaxes the other one to rest with promises that she wouldn’t let Jiang Cheng try something like that while he sleeps (“I promise, you can sleep now, A-Xian, I won’t let him.” “Oh but HE can, HE can decide for me-!”)

“Since we’ve decided not to keep secrets from family,” she tells them, after a week of indulging them both in their childishness, “you should both know. The Jiang family has, now, in the direct line me and Jiang Cheng. And then there’s Wei Wuxian, son of Wei Changze, who was a shu-son of Grandfather’s and, technically, broke the oath he made when he left the sect that he would not have children of his own.”

Their faces, when that finally sinks in, makes her giggle.

[“So you could be Sect Leader, since Lotus Pier would accept you. This explains so much about Mother.”

“I told you that Uncle Jiang wanted it to be you! But…yeah. It really does.”]

[“Wait, so the Waterborne Abyss tried to grab you in Gusu… do you think that it wanted…”

(That particular conversation ended abruptly when the plank Jiang Cheng was standing on crumbles, dumping him into the river below.)]

[“Without Uncle Jiang’s mark on Jiang Cheng showing Lotus Pier who the heir is, I think it’s confused about who to pick,” Wei Wuxian tells them, after more time with scrolls and an unexpected visit to Meishan Yu and Gusu Lan sects. “Should it go with strength, or primogeniture? Dad was older than Uncle Jiang, but Shijie’s older than me. And I don’t have a core – but mine’s not gone, it’s still-”

Wei Wuxian shuts himself up before Jiang Cheng can, that time.]

For some reason, the issue seems to weigh more greatly on her and A-Xian than A-Cheng. Perhaps because even though Lotus Pier had not yet acknowledged Jiang Cheng as Sect Leader, the Jiang Sect had. And Sect-Leaderly duties did not wait on the convenience of an ancient dwelling and what may or may not dwell beneath the watery foundations.

Which is why it’s surprising when it’s Jiang Cheng who finds them the solution.

“Are you sure?” she has to ask him.

“Honestly, I always imagined that when I’m Sect Leader, Wei Wuxian would busy-body his way into doing half my work anyway. The only difference is that you can stay here at Lotus Pier and help instead of marrying out.” The sect leader of a clan could not, after all, marry out.

“You should thank me for getting the engagement called off, then!” says Wei Wuxian. “Can you imagine? If we went through with this, then we’d all be engaged to the peacock.”

“A-Xian,” she chides, and her brother looks at her sheepishly. The grin is more naturally like himself, and not like he’s forcing himself to act like he once did.

“Is that okay with you, A-Jie?” asks Jiang Cheng.

“Yes,” she tells them. She had wanted a husband, children, a family of her own. But asked to make this choice; her sect or herself, her brothers or a family that one day might be. She knew her answer. “When shall we do it?”

In the aftermath, very little changes.

The bemused Jiang disciples are told to address both Young Mistress Jiang and Wei-shixiong as Sect Leader also, which takes them some getting used to, but they adapt soon enough.

The civilians from Yunmeng think it’s splendid, and take great pride in their three Sect Leaders.

The other sects receive a letter informing them that Jiang Yanli, Jiang Wanyin, and Wei Wuxian were ‘…henceforth by mutual agreement, to be recognized as one entity, encompassing legal and spiritual dimensions alike. As leaders of the Jiang sect, they will jointly bear the responsibilities and obligations attached to this esteemed position.’ Naturally this brings about some interested speculation in their allied sects.

[“Are you alright, Wangji? Do not worry, there is no need for you and Xichen to do likewise, it is an old ritual meant to rejoin the branches of a Clan that are at risk of a schism, without the messy business of pruning one side to disallow heirs, or line adoption."]

[“How utterly absurd. That girl, and the Ghost Flute, to be acknowledged as Sect Leader Jiang, when little Jiang Cheng can barely fill the role himself? What is the world coming to. Fetch us some wine, boy.”]

[“No that is not a euphemism for them deciding to have an incestuous polyamorous marriage, Huaisang! It probably has to do with that thing they don’t talk about; though why the Wen were not eaten when they stepped foot in Lotus Pier we’ll never know.”]

#wip #JZX/Yunmeng Sibs #So maybe that cancelled engagement wasn't as cancelled as they thought #whoops #what can you do?#All credit to Lotus Pier's waterborne abyss go to Tel

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daisymintt · 7 months

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Merlin Fic Prompts

Arthur gets separated and injured while on patrol and is taken in by the kind forest Druid Merlin who nurses Arthur back to health. During this time Arthur sees a side of magic he’s never been exposed to before and questions everything he’s been taught.

A series of letters Merlin’s writes to his mom telling her about his adventures in Camelot

Winter Soldier AU where Morgana discovers Merlin had magic but doesn’t know he’s Emrys. Uses the Fomarrah on him and instead of killing Arthur orders him to swear undying loyalty to her, to do anything she asks. Merlin essentially becomes like her Winter Soldier and wrecks havoc on villages. When Arthur hears about a dangerous sorcerer named Myrddin attacking villages he goes to investigates, still depressed about the lose of Merlin, and is shocked to discover that it Myrddin is Merlin except Merlin doesn’t remember him or anything before the fomarrah was implanted. Arthur now has a new goal of getting his best friend back and break Morgana’s hold on him.

The Purple Tunic. Merlin’s birthday comes and goes with no celebration, Gaius being overrun with patients and Merlin stuck with an impossibly long list of chores from Arthur. When Arthur learns that Merlin’s birthday had passed he feels bad and leaves the purple tunic for him in his room as a gift.

Arthur kills a Druid women and as she lays dying she roughly grabs his arm and curses him to experience suffer any wound he deals. Arthur struggles with his self worth now that he can’t protect his people as a knight without hurting himself

Arthur and Merlin get cursed so that whenever one gets hurt the other suffers the same wound (like Barbara and Strickler from Trollhunters)

Merthur WandaVision AU

S3 E12 AU where Merlin does actually fight Gwaine and Arthur is the one that has to be physically held back

Seeing Double. Merlin has always had a lot of work what with helping Gaius, being Arthur’s manservant, and saving everyone’s lives in a near daily basis. One day he is so busy he tries a new spell that’s suppose to create a double of you that lasts for 24 hours. Arthur thinks he’s going mad because he keeps seeing double of Merlin.

Mama’s Boy. Hunith is taken prisoner by some bandits and that sets Merlin on a warpath to get her back with Arthur at his side.

Merlin gets captured by a dark sorcerer who knows he’s Emrys and has him chained up in cold iron. While he’s imprisoned the sorcerer bloodlets him, planning to sell the blood of Emrys on the black market keep Merlin alive enough not to fight back.

Arthur falls and hurts his arm. Merlin examines it and diagnoses it, “You’ve fractured your ulna.” Gwaine perks up at this, “Ulna? I think I dated an Ulna once.”

While picking herbs for Gaius Merlin finds an injured and orphaned fox kit and brings it back with him. One day it gets out of his room and chaos ensues. He nearly catches it in Arthur’s room when Arthur returns and he tries to play it cool.

AU where as Freya lay dying in Merlin’s arms they get married, using blades of grass as their rings. The knights don’t notice at first but eventually one of them asks about it and Merlin gets all sad.

Merlin wakes in the middle of the night to someone breaking into Gaius’s chambers, covered in blood

A servant of two masters AU where instead of sending Merlin in to assassinate Arthur she makes a sting bulb of Merlin and sends it in. A day after it gets sent away Merlin breaks out of Morgana’s and races to save Arthur. Stabs a sword through his clone’s stomach. When it dies it turns into a pile of humus. Arthur starts to get suspicious of Plant!Merlin when he stops eating and he swears he saw Merlin stick his finger in water and drink it. Plant!Merlin also gets weak after long period’s without sunlight and ‘wilts’. Gwiane refuses to give up on his search for Merlin and sets out on his own. Finds Merlin in Morgana’s hovel and together they escape back to Camelot.

Modern Day Merlin, Merlin starts suffering from symptoms of Mahd Wy'ry which affects and causes him to have psychotic episodes at random, due to the weight of his memories. Leon finds him during one of these episodes.

That scene from Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron where Merlin holds an injured Arthur on the banks of a river when the bad guys find them and tear them apart despite their pleas. The knights find Arthur and once he’s stronger they set out to save Merlin.

Merlin and Arthur argue that the other wouldn’t last a day in the others shoes so Arthur comes up with the idea of ‘swapping places’ while they are visiting another kingdom that has never met Arthur before. The knights are in on it. They swap clothes and for a week Merlin is Arthur and Arthur is Merlin.

When kids start disappearing in the middle of the night Merlin sets out to investigate and is nearly killed

Morgana visits Gaius because she feels nauseous and while she’s there she throws up on her dress. Merlin lets her borrow some of his clothes and Arthur walks in sees her and thinks they’re courting. Arthur gets jealous.

That scene from Disneys Robin Hood where they dress as fortune tellers but it’s Merlin and Arthur and they do it in order to get into a bandits keep without arousing suspicion and getting something of importance they stole (Arthurs mothers sigil? His mothers ring?)

Merlin has parasomnia and often wanders the castle at night, often to Arthurs room

Merlin opens a haven for magical creatures/beings/people. Arthur wanders into and is nearly drowned by a naiad but Merlin saves him

Merlin Tarzan AU with a hint of Valka from HTTYD2. Balinor refuses to help Uther trap the last dragon and instead frees it. He takes shelter in Ealdor where he falls in love and has a child with Hunith. One day Uther finds them and, finding themselves cornered with no chance of escape, Balinor calls upon Kilgarrah. Balinor is killed and Hunith is taken prisoner to be used as bait for Merlin someday. Kilgarrah takes baby Merlin to a safe haven for dragons where he is raised by dragons. Many years later Merlin heard about the legend of the dragon egg and sets out to find it. During this journey he meets Prince/King Arthur. Although rivals at first they soon realize they have the same goal, return magic and dragons to Camelot.

Dragonlord side effects. The days following the activation of his Dragonlord powers Merlin starts to experience some side effects. Each chapter is a different side effect.

After Arthur becomes king he reinstates the holiday Saturnalia. Merlin gets elected the “Mock King” giving him a free pass to cause as much mischief and mayhem as he would like

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belle-keys · 9 months

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Summary: Virtual Author Talk with Cassandra Clare at San Anselmo Public Library (23/08/23)

Cassie wrote her first “novel” when she was 12 on a Mac computer, the infamous The Beautiful Cassandra that she regularly teases to us. She got into writing fiction professionally full-time after leaving her journalism job in 2006.

Finishing City of Bones took about 3-4 years because it was her first novel. Holly Black was the one who hooked her up with her first agent who then got the book published, which was a really new experience. She said that the publishing process was initially surprising to her because of how crazily long it takes to get a single book published.

Cassie acknowledges that City of Bones is starkly “different” from the rest of all her books in colour and voice, because of how experimental the novel writing process was for her. She said she thinks she’s evolved a lot as a writer since then.

She aims for psychological realism in her books even though it’s fantasy. She tries to see each character as a fully-formed person who can exist outside of the immediate plot. She creates worksheets to write her characters.

She also believes it’s necessary to let your main characters make bad mistakes – she cites Matthew as a prominent example i.e. someone highly reactive to their own mistakes. Matthew is defined by his regret and his need to fix his mistakes. She thinks Matthew is one of the most relatable characters because of this.

She’s very drawn to the found family trope because of how much she moved around as a kid – the stability and love of a found family is something she’s worked to build her whole life. She emphasizes the importance of friendship and its different forms in life.

Cassie cites Magnus as the character who turned out most differently than she had initially planned – she hadn’t originally anticipated how significant Magnus would be in the wider scheme of the series.

Doing The Last Hours was, at least a little, in response to people’s excitement about The Family Tree back in 2013.

Her advice for writing fantasy worlds is to create a flexible and expansive magic system so it can grow with you as a writer. She also emphasizes letting your favorite characters make poor decisions – your characters determine the plot and not the other way around.

Cassie strikes a balance between planning worldbuilding details beforehand and then spontaneously adding in new things in the writing process. The Scholomance is an example of something new that was added later in the TSC writing chronology.

She decided that Sword Catcher had to be in the adult publishing category because when she initially developed the characters, they just appeared as people in their twenties. With TSC, the characters had just appeared to her as teenagers then. Writing characters in these different life stages was interesting and challenging.

Sword Catcher is the first in a duology, but she’d like it to be four books if it’s successful.

Cassie has always wanted to write Shadowhunters in the Roaring ‘20s but she has no idea what the plot would possibly be.

She doesn’t read TSC fanfiction, but her husband has informed her of a popular Magnus X BTS fanfiction on AO3. She stays away from fanfiction, but she is very invested in the fanart of her works. Her favorite artist is, of course, Cassandra Jean, and she also loves Charlie Bowater.

She loves writing with Holly Black and probably would only do more Middle Grade writing with her.

She is very much anti-censorship and anti-banning books, especially because of the form it takes in the US (aka, censorsing books dealing with issues affecting the BIPOC and queer communities).

She doesn’t believe they’ll do another TMI adaptation in any form, even though she doesn’t believe the TMI books’ story was ever truly told. She hopes, one day, that TID can get made as it’s the most adaptable series in her catalogue for logistical reasons.

If she couldn’t be a fiction writer, her dream job would be a travel writer. She intensely loves traveling and making her characters travel as well.

Her favorite author of all time is Dorothy Dunnett. She thinks you should check out The Queen’s Thief by Megan Whaler Turner (I agree). And she’s currently reading Hidden Pictures by Jason Rekulak (I really enjoyed this one).

#cassandra clare #cassie clare #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #tlh #the last hours #tmi #the mortal instruments #tid #the infernal devices #twp #the wicked powers #sword catcher #ya fantasy

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mxtantrights · 2 months

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Bounded by shadow and blood (18)

azriel x magic!fem!reader

Kynas walks up the steps to Dias. No one in the crowd reacts. He really had them under his control, which was scary. Controlling that much blood at once is not easy and it takes its toll.

You wonder if that is also why he looks so close to death, or if it’s the other powers running through him. How’d he do that?

“How did you get like this?” You ask.

He smiles at you from your brother’s side.

“Does my darling wife want to nurse me back to health? That’s sweet.” He snarls.

You wanted to buy time. Amren could have gotten the message but maybe she needed time to get here. And if the wards are down then the whole inner circle could help her. Not that they would help you, but if they knew the shadow singer was in trouble you have no doubt they would do all they could and more.

Your eyes waver over to the man in question. He looks stone cold. And he’s looking right at you. His face isn’t giving anything away. Not even the pain that he’s feeling because of Kynas.

He really should have left as soon as he got here.

“Well I think you should at least wear something more appropriate to my throne ceremony.” Kynas says.

You look at him wildly at that. So he did want the throne. Why? Sure power is one of the greatest loves of his life—you never quite made the list. But there were so many ways to get to the throne, why this way?

While you’re not paying attention, your outfit changes. You don’t feel it. Not at first. It’s not until the red sleeves cover your arms that you get it.

You weren’t wearing the clothes from before. Now you were in a red dress. One of the dresses that Kynas had picked out for you to wear at the wedding ceremony. One of the dresses you passed on—and pissed him off.

It was barely a dress. A deep cut down the middle of your chest, only strings to cover your back. The only thing you liked about the dress was the long trail that faded from red to black.

You reach up to touch your ears. Earrings. And your hand roams down to your neck, a blood pearl necklace no doubt. His favorite.

“You always wanted me to be docile and obedient but this is a new low.” You bark.

Kynas laughs at that, “No the low would be you giving out your blood to a fae. A lower born fae at that!”

“Who cares?!” You shout back.

At your words Kynas’ eyes shine with amusement. You go slack. Your body temperature rising quickly. You focus on keeping control of your own blood.

“I take it the bastard doesn’t know that its sacred to give blood?” Kynas asks.

“Kynas—“ you start.

But he turns right to the shadow singer. Azriel looks him in the eyes.

“You performed a marriage ritual, did your friend tell you that?” Kynas asks him.

But of course he can’t answer. Azriel struggles against his hold but he can’t break it. You are silently praying for Amren to show up. Or Cassian. Or Morrigan. Maybe even Rhysand. Hell, even Nesta would do at this point.

“I took down the wards, I’m wearing this stupid dress, what more do you want?” You ask, trying to take his attention away from Azriel.

Kynas looks back at you now. He interlocks his fingers together. Menace. Coward. Idiot.

“I want you to kneel.” He says.

But he’s not commanding or forcing you to do it. You feel his hold on you release. The temperature in your body going back down, ever so slowly even if you feel like you’re on fire from rage.

“Don’t you…dare kneel to him.” Your brother says in between puffs of air.

You look at how he’s struggling. His eyes are turning red. His whole body is trembling. You want to run to him but you can’t. You know that as soon as you do Kynas will do something.

Kynas growls and sends your brother flying down the steps. He rolls and rolls until he lands flat on his stomach. You gasp and take a step closer but as soon as you do, a heavy blood blade forms. The red sword now pointed behind your brother’s skull.

“You will kneel!” Kynas shouts.

You can see your brother resisting. He’s shaking violently now.

A voice from behind you calls your name. You recognize it as Amren’s voice. You hear other footsteps behind her. You can’t turn back to see them. The shadow on your wrist warms.

You cannot give your back to Kynas, not when he holds your brother’s life in his hands.

“Never!” Your brother shouts back.

It happens in a matter of seconds, though it feels like eternity. You watch as your brother smiles at you one last time. No matter how forced it looks you will savor it for the rest of your life.

Your brother, breaks out of Kynas’ hold. Kynas doesn’t expect it and stumbles back, his hold on everyone else in the room faltering for a second. A second is all you need.

As you send three blood daggers from your hand, the blood sword that Kynas has pointed at your brother’s head rushes forward. Your daggers hit their intended target.

Kynas falls on his back with a loud thud. The towns people, gathering their senses, rush away from the front of the room. You however look fro your brother, who is no longer in front of you. The blood blade staked into the floor, but no sign of him.

“Orlin?!” You scream.

“Right here, sister.”

You turn around. There he is. Your brother, leaning against Cassian by the front of the door. You gather up the ends of your dress and run to him. He grabs a hold of you and brings you in for a hug.

It’s not hard to notice that you are crying. You duck your head down as you brother holds the back of your head.

“I’m so sorry sister,” he whispers.

It’s years of feelings that you’ve held onto pouring out of you at once. Grief, rage, tension, guilt. All of it comes out of you in between broken sobs.

“We’re okay. You saved everyone.” Your brother continues.

You pull away from him, shaking your head, “I didn’t—I mean I couldn’t have done it alone.”

You look over at Amren. She walks over to you and envelopes you in a hug. She whispers in your ear about the blade, and how she came as quick as she could when she realized something was wrong. You thank her over and over again.

From behind you can feel his presence. You turn your head to look. There Azriel is, not a scratch on him. He gives you a once over, you actually watch his eyes search you from head to toe. You have a feeling if no one else was here his shadows would physically make sure you were okay too.

You don’t notice it on first glance. That’s why when you look him over you notice how tense he is.

“I’m okay,” you start saying.

He starts shaking his head, like he can’t believe it. You move to him at once. You grab his hand and place it at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. He lets out a strangled breath at the feeling of your blood flowing beneath his hand.

You nod your head again, “I’m okay. We’re okay.”

He nods his head too.

“Sister,” your brother says.

You pull away from Azriel. A few of his shadows climbing up your arm. You turn to face your brother but when you do you wish you hadn’t. He shows you his hand, which came from the back of his head, and there it is. It’s not blood. You wish it was blood.

A dark substance coats his hand. You take two large steps to him. But it’s not quick enough. He stumbles into your arms. You go down to the floor with him.

Your brother lay on his back on your knees. You can feel the tears coming down your face again. Red. The color of the tears and all you can feel right now.

“Orlin, please, I can fix it!“ you cry.

He shakes his head.

“He gave his blood to the bog of Oorid. What he got back was slowly killing him.” Your brother says, coughing in between words.

If the blood inside Kynas was killing him, then the same blood he used to form the sword he pointed at your brother…was already in him. When he held him by the blade at the neck and when he nicked the back of his head.

He was already...

“I can take your blood, I can give you mine—“ you start.

All of these options could work. In theory. By taking your brother’s blood you could temporarily heal him. But if it’s been spreading for longer than you think you would have to take much more blood, and he wouldn’t survive that.

You could give him your blood, but that wouldn’t work as a cure. It would only work if you could stop the infection. Which, once again, might have been taking root for a long time.

The scars and bruises on his body. You doubt Kynas would use any other blade than his own blood to hurt your brother.

“I am your older brother, my job is, was, to protect you. I cannot let you give me your blood.” He speaks.

His voice groggy now. He holds out his hand and you take it in yours

“I should have came sooner. I should have known.” You say.

“It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault, sister. But they are going to look to you know.”

You let out a shaky breath and look around the room. The towns people are all taking in the scene in front of them. This wasn’t like the death of the council members which you hid from them. They are all witnessing the death of their emperor, right in front of their eyes.

They’re all watching in real time as the throne is being passed from one sibling to the next. From the heir to the spare.

You look back down at your brother, “I can’t do it. I don’t want this.”

“I know,” you brother hacks loudly and a bit of dark liquid comes out of his mouth, “but I know you’ll figure it out.”

In your grip you feel his hand loosen. You shake your head and keep repeating his name. As if that would simply wake him up from this awful nightmare. When his chest stops rising you gasp.

You hug his body to yours. Even though you can feel it going cold by the second. It doesn’t feel real. You and your brother were supposed to live this life together. Yes you left and he stayed, but it didn’t matter. You weren’t supposed to be the only one left.

You don’t know how long you stay like that. It doesn’t feel like long. It feels like time is passing you by.

And you don’t move from your position until you hear a voice calling you. It’s not Amren, or Azriel. Or anyone from the inner circle. You know this voice like the back of your hand.

You slowly let your eyes trail up, up, up to the door of the throne room. Standing there in the threshold is Semaj. He looks shaken up but you can’t sense any injuries on him. He’s looking at you now with a scared look on his face.

He gets down on one knee and places his hand over his heart. Sadly he bows his head.

“Empress.” He says.

It’s strikes a reaction in the whole room. One by one all of the towns people bend their knee and bow their heads. You even see Amren joining in. They repeat the same word Semaj had said. The same word you had run from your whole life.

Empress.

#acotar x reader #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel fic #acotar imagine #acotar fic #blood and shadow

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a-998h · 4 months

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Heyyy I’m here to bother youuuuuuh😊

Anyway, I don’t know if you’ve seen the ask yet about certain characters ages and {Reader} calling them old and stuff, but if you do that request I would like to add smth and reacting to their ages, I would recommend reading that one first then this one

Basically when the readers like “You’re still gon’ be here even when I die” and then they just smile and joke about it- just go check out the request I sent lol-

But what if {Reader} figured out some of the characters were ‘puppets’ and they were like “Why are you being a coward? Just show your true self!”

Because wanderer is like a puppet right? But I don’t know if it’s the same situation as EI

Also another scenario where some of the characters try to pick up {Reader} and they just can’t (magic mfs)

But reader can easily like lift up ZHONGLI- Or maybe to some sassy characters liek Wanderer(if he’s sassy idk) or like Tighnari (same goes for him, idrk)

And another thing, {Reader} would ABSOLUTELY judge the crap outta some all the characters clothing choices- especially the ones that fight

So they’ll like go up to Itto and be like “Where’s the rest of your shirt?” And if he says something egotistical/ or compliments himself (If that’s what his character is even like💀 If not just choose another character I guess) and {Reader} would respond with “Yeah well you ego seems way bigger than your build”

Or for like EI they would be like “Why doesn’t the kimono cover the some of your chest?” Or for Xiao they would be like “Do you even have a shirt on or is it see through-“ and for Zhongli it would be “How can you even fight in a suit? It looks so tight and uncomfortable, and what’s the point of the bottom part of your suit being shredded? (The part where his suit splits into parts at the end) and basically every other character who fights yet their outfits are completely unpractical

And {Reader} wears like very baggy clothing and Japanese sandals

And also how they fight is instead of using powers- they just hella skilled with like martial arts, like they’ll just swipe some characters off their feet, and like elbow some in the stomach😭 and like instead of teleporting they’re just so fast and they jump off trees like a crazy lil shit-

And this is also really random, but imagine the characters are playing hide-n-seek with {Reader} and no one could find them until EI looks up and SOMEHOW {READER} MANAGED TO CLING TO THE CEILING (IN LIKE A SPIDERMAN POSITION TOO-) AND THEYRE JUST LIKE- “You guys suck at Hide-n-seek”

Anyway if you could combine this request with the other one where it talks more about certain characters ages and like how reader reacted to it and stuff, taht would be greatttttt🙃🙃🙃

Hope you have a good dayyyy!

-🍉Anon

okay let's break this down. 🍉 Anon, I love your enthusiasm but please calm down a bit, one idea at a time.

You become a fashion critic to them. I love the character designs but jesus christ , some of them are so impractical. You offer them advice on how to make their outfits more practical and whether or not they listen to you is not your problem. Your constantly begging Itto to put on a shirt. You're just confused by the whole boob sword open chest kimono thing with Ei.

They're all very proud of your skills. And while some think someone your age shouldn't need to learn this. They accept it and deal with it in their own way. Some are absolutely terrified of you. Some just think you need training and others genuinely question how you got this strong.

Ei would try and dismiss your concerns over her "true self". As time goes on if she ever decides to leave the plane of Euthymia one of the first things she'll do is look for you. Wanderer will scoff and tell you this is his true self. Then you would probably throw a few jokes. His way and your petty fighting will start all over again.

Zhongli and Tighnari are impressed by the fact that you managed to left them while no one could lift you. When lifting Wanderer... You essentially become his personal carry person until someone scolds him and takes him away from you.

In hide-and-seek no matter who you're playing with. Everyone gets really nervous when they can't find you. They check in all the typical spots. And then they find you up a tree or something. Some of the characters freak out because my precious baby is in a tree and others. Just questioned how you got up there in the first.

#genshin fanfic #cult au #sagau #sagau lore #creator!reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

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haerinz · 11 months

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the prince and the frog

PAIRING : prince jungwon x princess reader SYNOPSIS : when you're suddenly turned into a frog, jungwon's the first person you come to for help. GENRE : bulletpoint scenario, fairy tale au, friends to lovers, inspired by the frog princess series and disney's princess and the frog, a tiny bit of angst, gets more fluffy towards the end WARNINGS : heavily unedited, frequent pov changes, please lmk if you feel that there's any other warnings i should add WC : 2.4K

prince yang jungwon is no stranger to pranks

24 HRS A DAY . 7 DAYS A WEEK . 365 DAYS A YR

he had a lifetime of experience being the butt of such jokes ( o_o)

so much experience that he could probably put it on his resume ..

if only princes needed resumes

his elder brother, crown prince jeongin’s favorite pastime was to tease him ● ﹏ ●

and his sister jiheon wasn’t much better either … she was always babying him

jungwon loves his siblings but sometimes they seem to forget he’s now an adult

HE’S OLD ENOUGH TO BE MARRIED ??

and as a close friend to prince niki, it’s safe to say jungwon never got a break

usually the doing of niki, odd things had frequently found their way into jungwon’s private corners …

all made out of ice but still very realistic in appearance

TOO REAL FOR JUNGWON’S LIKING …

elephants, peacocks, tigers, you name it & jungwon had likely woken up to to it

BUT THIS ??

this was a different situation altogether

jungwon is not at all surprised when he wakes up to a frog on his chest …

he doesn’t even bat an eye at the extravagant gown the frog is wearing

but then it moves ??

none of niki’s ice sculptures had ever moved :00

maybe it was just the wind

yeah that’s probably it

jungwon freaks out a little when he notices the windows are all closed shut (O.O ?)

but he completely loses it once the frog starts to talk . .

“hi wonie”

shocked is an understatement . he's completely flabberghasted

THE

FROG

JUST

SPOKE

AND JUNGWON COULD UNDERSTAND IT ??

someone must’ve slipped smtg into that cup of warm milk he drank before going to bed

yeah that’s got to be it because there was no way he was in his right mind currently

jungwon doesn't know how to process his current situation …

he’s frozen in place (and for the first time it wasn't bc of niki’s magic)

jungwon’s never paid much attention to gossip

but maybe the rumor abt his crazy great-great uncle was true …

and maybe it runs in the family ??

or maybe all the pranks have finally gotten to his head & he’s lost it

(◎_◎ ;)

jungwon thinks he’s good person and a relatively good prince

sure, he’s skipped a few sword lessons from time to time

and sometimes fell asleep during his history lessons

but he’s always paid attention to the important stuff and his instructors love him

so he’s not sure what he did to deserve this

he’s sure that he must have lost his mind bc why …

WHY IS THERE A FROG ON HIS CHEST ??

WHY DID IT CALL HIM “WONIE” ??

AND WHY IS IT STARING AT HIM ??

nothing is adding up ( ・◇・)？

“ IT’S ME YN ! ! ! ”

you hadn’t wanted to scare jungwon but you had been waiting for him to wake up for what seemed like forever (ㆆ _ ㆆ)

and you were growing more impatient with each passing minute

(ㆆ _ ㆆ) (ㆆ _ ㆆ) (ㆆ _ ㆆ)

unfortunately for you, jungwon looks even more confused now …

the frog sounds just like you + claims to be you

if he was being honest, its beady eyes did kind of resemble yours

BUT IT’S A FROG ???

jungwon sits up, leaning against the headboard as he gently picks you up

he makes a cup with both his hands and holds you up to his face

YOU THINK YOUR HEART MIGHT BEAT OUT OF YOUR CHEST

his eyes are completely focused on you :(( AND HE JUST LOOKS SO CUTE

☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️

STOP YOU CAN’T BE FALLING IN LOVE WHEN YOU’RE A FROG

meanwhile jungwon is having some epiphanies of his own

it had been almost a month since jungwon had last seen you, but he’d known you his whole life and you’d never shown any sign of being amphibious …

so he’s not sure why now ( ´ ･_･`)

jungwon didn’t have any magical powers or quirks of his own

but the concept wasn’t anything out of the ordinary especially among royal bloodlines

even niki had his own ice powers which he had only ever used to prank jungwon

turning into a frog though? that was pretty lame

it was almost worse than not having any powers at all

he can’t help but let out a snicker at the thought

“y-you’re a f-frog?” (jungwon, making no attempt to stifle his laughter)

“ STOP SMIRKING YOU IDIOT ” (ง'̀-'́)ง

you might actually have a heart attack if he keeps looking at you like that

ughhh why is your best friend so pretty??

it’s not fair（πーπ)

WAIT STOP YOU NEED TO FOCUS ! ! !

BE STRONG YN ! ! !

you couldn’t believe the audacity of yang jungwon . . .

( ｡ •̀ ᴖ •́ ｡)

YOU CAME TO HIM FOR HELP AND INSTEAD HE WAS MAKING FUN OF YOU

“o-okay i promise i’ll stop now” yeah he better stop (≖_≖)

“but seriously though, how’d you turn into a frog?”

just as promised, jungwon stops laughing and politely listens to everything you had to say

AND SO YOU TELL HIM ALL ABOUT HOW YOU HAD BEEN PLANNING TO SURPRISE NIKI FOR HIS BDAY BY SHOWING UP UNANNOUNCED

you had gone to your kingdom’s royal mage for help with the transportation spell ...

but he wasn’t available (T⌓T)

so you went with the next best thing — his apprentice, your elder cousin felix

who was clearly lacking training ಠ_ಠ & also no longer your favorite cousin ﴾ò_ó﴿

felix aka the primary reason you were now a frog had somehow messed up your transportation spell . . leaving you in this miserable state

technically the transportation spell was a success . . .

BUT YOU WERE ALSO NOW A FROG

and could no longer surprise niki for his bday in the way you had intended 🙁

jungwon patiently listens to your rant, giving you his complete attention the entire time

“don’t worry yn”

“i’ll take you to our local mage, maybe he can help”

comfortably nestled into jungwon’s pocket, the two of you quickly make your way to the royal mage’s quarters which was conveniently located in the same tower, just a few fleets of stairs below jungwon’s own quarters

*knock* *knock*

“prince jungwon! how are you?”

a very, very handsome face opens the door, greeting you both with a warm smile

jungwon introduces you to the mage, hyunjin and quickly summarizes your current dilemma for him

while jungwon speaks for you, you’re attempting to suppress the urge to ask the pretty mage if he’s single (´♡ᴗ♡`)

once he hears the entire story behind your predicament, hyunjin quickly goes to gather the necessary ingredients for a counter-spell, leaving you and jungwon alone together

“yn stop”

“won i'm not even doing anything” it’s rather hard to, when you’re still stuffed in his pocket

“stop ogling hyunjin.” jungwon whispers in your direction with a deadpan look on his face

he can’t help but feel annoyed with the mage at your behavior

hyunjin isn't even that good looking (¬_¬")

“yn i can literally see you drooling”

jungwon swears he’s much prettier in comparison

and he’s never given it much thought but he can’t see himself with anyone other than you …

so there’s no way that he’d let a stupid mage steal you from him (・`ω´・ ●)

you’re not sure how jungwon notices you staring, but who can blame you . . .

the mage is very pretty <33

and his arms looked really nice as he mixes all the ingredients together 🤭🤭

soon enough, hyunjin returns with a tiny vial filled with a bubbly, purple liquid

the mage leans towards jungwon’s pocket, meeting your eyes

“hopefully this will help”

HYUNJIN’S SMILE IS SO BRIGHT

that you think you might just faint at the sight . . .

while you remain dazed at hyunjin’s etheral visuals, jungwon takes the vial from the mage and opens it for you

he angles the vial towards your mouth and you quickly down it all, happily waiting for your transformation (๑˃̵ ᴗ˂̵)

some time passes and you continue to wait, just more nervously than before ( ′ ～‵ )

BUT THERE’S NO MAGICAL *POOF* ??

and you’re still a frog . . .

just a more disappointed frog than you were a few minutes ago

（；＿；）（；＿；）（；＿；）

while you and jungwon are at a complete loss for words, hyunjin quickly has a realization ( ‘◇’)

“YN. MAY I?” the excitement is clear from his voice

despite having no clue what the mage is referring to, you eagerly nod in agreement

hyunjin reaches out, picking you up from jungwon’s pocket

he brings you close to his face

（〃・ω・〃）

and then sniffs you? :000

“ ahh of course, it must be love! ”

at this, jungwon’s jaw drops and yours quickly follows

HUH …

LOVE (?_?)

DID YOU HEAR THAT RIGHT?

Σ('◉⌓◉’)

WHAT IS HE TALKING ABOUT?

was that a pickup line? maybe it was like his generation’s version of upsexy?

“hyunjin, what do you mean?” jungwon’s voice interrupts your daydreaming

“i think the mage who cursed yn must have accidentally added some sort of element of protection to the spell –”

“wait, felix did give me an extra safety potion bc i was a little nervous about doing the transportation spell by myself”

as much as you wanted to hate him for the whole FROG situation you were in, your cousin truly was a complete sweetheart

“while he accidentally messed up the transportation spell, the protection potion he gave you clearly works very well. it prevented any magical influence from interfering with you.”

hyunjin takes a deep breath before continuing his explanation

“because he used the blessing of venus in your potion — i’m afraid that the only way to undo it is with true love’s kiss”

WAIT WHAT

it’s safe to say that both you and jungwon are once again at a loss for words …

noticing the two royals freeze up, hyunjin takes it up on himself to break the silence

“yn do you happen to like anyone?”

jungwon’s eyes harden, flashing towards you, intently awaiting your response

“y-yes …” if you weren’t still a frog, you’d have been sweating buckets (•᷄- •᷅ ;)

jungwon feels his heart sink at your admittal :((

“but i don’t think he likes me back . . . ” and then it comes right back up

maybe he still has a chance at your heart

hyunjin visibly deflates at your revelation, but tries to keep his composure steady

as the eldest of the group, he can’t help but feel a strong responsibility towards the two of you

“could you please tell us who?”

WHAT ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO DO NOW (T__T)

staying a frog forever didn’t sound half bad in comparison to potentially losing your best friend

“yn please. we’re not going to judge you” jungwon’s surprises himself with the words coming out of his mouth

that was a complete lie, he didn't mean that at all

NO ONE CAN STOP HIM FROM JUDGING WHOEVER YOU LIKED

so what? maybe he is a little sulky about you liking someone …

jungwon didn’t know who they were

but no one would be able to treat you better than him

no one deserved you more than he did (ಠ╭╮ಠ)

“it’s you”

“it’s always been you”

at first jungwon’s disheartened, assuming that you had been talking to hyunjin, but then he realizes the mage is looking straight at him

HUH IT WAS HIM ALL ALONG ??

YOU LIKED JUNGWON ??

mentally, jungwon was going crazy in excitement but mostly relief

physically though, he remain fedrozen in place, eyes widened in shock at your confession

immediately fearing the worst from his response, or rather lack of, you can’t help but start to tear up

you just feel so bad (˃̣̣̥╭╮˂̣̣̥)

not even a second passes before you're full-on sobbing

except you’re a frog so it just sounds like “HUEHUE *RIBBIT* IM SO *RIBBIT* SORRY”

hyunjin is absolutely horrified & completely lost on how to handle the current situation

HE‘S JUST A MAGE ㅠㅠ

HE DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO COMFORT ROYAL CHILDREN

luckily jungwon is quick to snap out of it once he hears you cry

“wait yn don’t cry ! ! !”

“YN I LIKE YOU TOO”

huh（；＿；）

jungwon likes you too?

“really? you do?” (⚈ ⌢ ⚈)

jungwon’s heart aches as you continue pouting

“you know i wouldn’t lie about that”

“you promise?”

jungwon’s so obviously down bad for you that he’s not sure how you didn’t already know

even niki knew . . .

“i promise. i love you.”

a tiny smirk adorns his face as he carefully picks you up

“is it okay if i kiss you now?”

“more than okay” (yn, eyes wide & furiously nodding your head)

jungwon smiles even bigger, letting out a small laugh at your eagerness

all while holding eye contact with you, he places you on the table and moves closer, bending down to meet your level

and then he gives you a small peck on the head

*POOF*

OMG IT HAPPENED

YOU’RE NOT A FROG ANYMORE ( ◠‿◠ )

the first thing you do is squash jungwon in a huge bear hug

“thank you wonie”

“of course, you know i’d do anything for you” he’s so sweet :(

once you finish squishing jungwon, you face the mage to say your thanks to him too

“hyunjin, i‘ll forever be in your debt” you’re not sure what you would’ve done without him :(

both jungwon and you decide to head back to his room, giving hyunjin a chance to relax after such a stressful day

you’re both walking side by side, shoulders brushing against one anothers

and you’re just so happy and grateful for everything (๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)

until you remember what had just transpired . . .

( ＾∇＾) → ( ・∇・) → (°▽°)

JUNGWON KISSED YOU ??

AND YOU'RE HUMAN ??

SO HE LOVES YOU ??

“wait jungwon ! !” you halt in your tracks, grabbing him by his coat sleeve

“a-are we a thing now?” you’re so nervous what if he says no

“huh, what do you mean?” jungwon smirks, clearly enjoying the sight of you in such a flustered state because of him

“are we boyfriend-girlfriend now?” you’re even more nervous now and jungwon thinks you’re absolutely adorable

“would another kiss answer your question?” (jungwon, grinning widely as he’s finally realized the effect he has on you)

he feels incredibly smug knowing that you’re so down bad for him

( ¬‿¬ )

your crush on him was truly doing wonders for his ego

“but, that wasn’t a real kiss” (yn, slightly frowning)

forehead kisses don’t count

especially considering you had been a frog at the time

jungwon scans the surrounding hallway for any peeping eyes before responding, gently grabbing you by the waist to pull you closer to him

“should i kiss you, for real, this time then?” he whispers into your ear, so close that you can hear the smirk in his voice

he’s actually going to be the death of you …

“please” (yn, awkwardly avoiding eye contact)

jungwon tilts your chin up to face him, his other arm still wrapped around your waist

you both lock eyes and he doesn’t waste another second before kissing you

it’s sweet and awkward and a perfect first kiss

you both pull away from each other with huge smiles

in that moment, everything is absolutely perfect ♡

and together, the prince & his frog live happily ever after !!

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING !! and a million thanks to my lovely moots @gfksn @seungiepup & @tnyhees for helping me with proofreading ILYSM 💗 formatting & layout inspired by @/chenle and @/soobnny ♡

networks : @kflixnet @k-labels

permanent taglist : @ilynaevis @yeongwonie @gfksn @luvhyun3 @esc6pism

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nightswatchdisbandmentera · 3 months

Text

It’s important that the first revelation of Nissa Nissa is accompanied by some level of skepticism from Salladhor Saan and aversion on Davos’ part. It doesn’t sound right that Azor Ahai chose to sacrifice his wife for a magic sword. It shouldn’t sound right.

“A hundred days and a hundred nights he labored on the third blade, and as it glowed white-hot in the sacred fires, he summoned his wife. ‘Nissa Nissa,’ he said to her, for that was her name, ‘bare your breast, and know that I love you best of all that is in this world.’ She did this thing, why I cannot say, and Azor Ahai thrust the smoking sword through her living heart. It is said that her cry of anguish and ecstasy left a crack across the face of the moon, but her blood and her soul and her strength and her courage all went into the steel. Such is the tale of the forging of Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes.

“Now do you see my meaning? Be glad that it is just a burnt sword that His Grace pulled from that fire. Too much light can hurt the eyes, my friend, and fire burns.” Salladhor Saan finished the last grape and smacked his lips. “When do you think the king will bid us sail, good ser?”

[…] A true sword of fire, now, that would be a wonder to behold. Yet at such a cost … When he thought of Nissa Nissa, it was his own Marya he pictured, a good-natured plump woman with sagging breasts and a kindly smile, the best woman in the world. He tried to picture himself driving a sword through her, and shuddered. I am not made of the stuff of heroes, he decided. If that was the price of a magic sword, it was more than he cared to pay.

Not only does it not make sense that Nissa Nissa would agree to her husband’s request, it’s also telling how Salladhor Saan expresses relief in knowing that King Stannis didn’t actually forge Lightbringer. Because forging Lightbringer means human sacrifice. And why should one be deprived of their life, even if it’s for a magic sword? Davos is very right to be creeped out by it.

The theme of sacrifice shows up quite a bit in ASOIAF and Davos I isn’t the first or last time. The very first chapter in the series, Bran I, tackles this idea with Jon and the direwolves.

“Lord Stark,” Jon said. It was strange to hear him call Father that, so formal. Bran looked at him with desperate hope. “There are five pups,” he told Father. “Three male, two female.”

“What of it, Jon?”

“You have five trueborn children,” Jon said. “Three sons, two daughters. The direwolf is the sigil of your House. Your children were meant to have these pups, my lord.”

Bran saw his father’s face change, saw the other men exchange glances. He loved Jon with all his heart at that moment. Even at seven, Bran understood what his brother had done. The count had come right only because Jon had omitted himself. He had included the girls, included even Rickon, the baby, but not the bastard who bore the surname Snow, the name that custom decreed be given to all those in the north unlucky enough to be born with no name of their own.

Their father understood as well. “You want no pup for yourself, Jon?” he asked softly.

“The direwolf graces the banners of House Stark,” Jon pointed out. “I am no Stark, Father.”

Jon, though he may desperately desire to have his own piece of magic, would not sacrifice his siblings for it. He wouldn’t dare to deprave the girls, Arya and Sansa, of their own magic even when it might be very easy to do so. This is a pretty stark contrast (pun intended) to Azor Ahai and his Nissa Nissa. Azor Ahai’s first line of thought was to sacrifice his wife whereas Jon’s was to sacrifice himself. Sure Azor Ahai got his magic sword, but Jon’s self-sacrifice is not in vain either because he later earns his own wolf, who turns out to be even more special than the rest in the pack.

Bran IV kind of alludes to the idea of self sacrifice through Old Nan’s retelling of the last hero:

So as cold and death filled the earth, the last hero determined to seek out the children, in the hopes that their ancient magics could win back what the armies of men had lost. He set out into the dead lands with a sword, a horse, a dog, and a dozen companions. For years he searched, until he despaired of ever finding the children of the forest in their secret cities. One by one his friends died, and his horse, and finally even his dog, and his sword froze so hard the blade snapped when he tried to use it. And the Others smelled the hot blood in him, and came silent on his trail, stalking him with packs of pale white spiders big as hounds—”

Though the one we know is called the “last hero”, notice that it’s not a title but a mere descriptor; there were many heroes before him who died and he was the last one standing. There is a human toll in this legend, but it’s implied to be self sacrifice. It’s also interesting that though there is mention of a blade, it is the children of the forest’s magic that is key. This does kind of bleed into what we know about the Night’s Watch and its relation to the long night. The Night’s Watch victory was a group effort, rather than the actions of any one man.

We have several legends surrounding the long night that work, but only one involves the cost of sacrificing someone else (that we know of). This might be where GRRM is headed with Stannis and his creation of Lightbringer. Sure Azor Ahai did get his magic sword, but it doesn’t negate the steep human cost. GRRM has lowkey confirmed that Stannis is sure to burn Shireen. And rather than this sacrifice not working, I think it’s more likely that it does work. Stannis does indeed create the flaming sword. But this will be directly weighed by other (self) sacrifices made for the same purpose. Stannis’ sacrifice of his daughter won’t work any better than other characters who choose to sacrifice themselves even when knowing that they are not going to go down as individual legends; I think Jon Snow will once again be the prime example of this, as he has already resigned himself to being a shadow in history despite initially wanting the opposite. Maester Aemon was right in saying that

[…] all deceive ourselves, when we want to believe. Melisandre most of all, I think. The sword is wrong, she has to know that … light without heat … an empty glamor … the sword is wrong, and the false light can only lead us deeper into darkness, Sam

The sword is wrong. Azor Ahai is NOT one to be emulated. Rather, he should be a cautionary tale. He is not any more special for his sacrifice than what the last hero or the men of the Night’s Watch did, even though we know his name but don’t know theirs. GRRM answered the question regarding sacrifice before he even posed it. To make someone else pay the price is flat out wrong. The only true and worthy sacrifice is really that of the self.

#asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #azor ahai #the last hero #stannis baratheon #jon snow #the night's watch #didn’t put in the post but if Jon’s ADWD dream turns out to be true and he does gain his own flaming sword i tend to think he’ll get it #by giving up himself or part of himself in the process #jon is perhaps the most self sacrificial character in this series #which is why theories that dany will be his nissa nissa miss the mark almost entirely #if jon is to be a hero he will do it by sacrificing himself not someone else #he already demonstrated this in agot when he refused a direwolf and again in adwd when he refused winterfell #stannis is meant to be his foil so we could see them being weighed against each other #not to mention that jon’s adwd dream is very much a last hero retelling with references to his companions falling #and him outlasting them though there’s a really interesting reference to him killing robb and ygritte #but I think it’s more to do with killing his own desires to remain at the wall - in addition to his feelings of guilt and abandonment

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