#Red Mages have been a part of my life for a long time

[fallloverfic]

Me: I read/watch Delicious in Dungeon for The Plot The Plot (spoilers for S01E13: Red Dragon III/Good Medicine, and CW: blood):

Thank you Trigger for adding this, this was not in the manga, blessings be upon you and your families. I did not know that last episode Chilchuck asking if they'd never escape the crotch would be prophetic alkdjalj

Listen, if I told you how many screencaps I took of Laios in his civvies/pajamas... well. He looks beautiful. 15/10 great job, Trigger, thank you.

I am also still soft for the siblings.

He is so worried about her.

Laios do have a lovely back, though.

Shoutout to Trigger for keeping all the times Senshi and the other characters faceplant in each other's crotches for this whole little arc lol I took so many screencaps of Laios though, you have no idea how long I've been waiting for them to animate this.

Unconscious luggage Laios is the best. Love how Senshi carries him (and that all three guys are standing behind Marcille, who is protecting them).

Just laser-focused for me.

And the party pile alkdjlaj I was waiting for this so much alkdjalj Poor unconscious Laios, with Senshi squishing his crotch. Poor Marcille, stuck beneath both their tank and their bulky damage dealer and their rogue, all after fighting an army of blood dragons and using ancient magic to revive someone. Life's never fair for the mage.

I always loved the way Chilchuck just lifts up Laios' leg alkdjlaj The tall-man is literally too tall for him aldkjalj

I have been specifically waiting for them to animate this for months lakjdlaj This whole sequence is one of my favorite parts of the manga and ahh they did such a good job!!!

They kept the chest push, just incredible. Bless.

I just love how Kui really explored how races of different sizes and heights interact with each other and how it changes different things. Laios is literally a tall-man and the tallest member of their party, and the buffest in a different way than Senshi is (Senshi is sturdier and generally far stronger, but Laios is their tank for a reason). And despite Senshi's strength, and Laios being badly injured, they still cannot fully compensate for the fact that Laios is still the biggest of them all.

Also they added this alkdjla And I love it so much alkdjaj In the manga, Laios has his left leg pulled back a bit to make room for Chilchuck (or maybe just because it's how he sits down after Senshi and Chilchuck finally push him over), but here he's literally between Laios' legs in part because Laios is just so tall and Chilchuck is just very small by comparison.

I just ahhhh Chilchuck trying to keep him seated just kills me...

Ahh these shots just end me. They all look so good and I love how they're arranged. I love how desperate Chilchuck is to appeal to him, because Chilchuck doesn't want him to die T-T He knows how much Laios is hurting over Falin, both mentally and physically (he is still recovering from when she hit him), but...

Overall this was a phenomenal episode, and it was adapted really well. I loved how the characters played off each other, the voice acting and music were wonderful, the animation was excellent, just... ahhhh

Other delicious Plot:

The Plot in Episode 3

The Plot in Episode 7

The Plot in Episode 9

The Plot in Episode 11

The Plot in Episode 13 (you are here)

The Plot in Episode 14

The Plot in Episode 15

The Plot in Episode 16

The Plot in Episode 17

#laios touden #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #delicious in dungeon spoilers #fallfthoughts #ダンジョン飯 #senshi #chilchuck tims #marcille donato #this is THE laios being in situations episode #until later #blessings upon this #it's so good #I am in heaven #falin touden #yes I took a million screencaps this episode is everything I love about this part of the story #I have been looking forward to this for so long #blessed #excellent episode

[simping-impact]

Kamisato Siblings, at your Service!

A/N: This is just pure brainrot. Planning to give this a part 2 but we will see if my motivation is still up to do it.

Summary: Honestly it’s just you whaling for the siblings lol

Warnings: SAGAU (i think thats it honestly)

Ever since you were isekai’d to the world of genshin. You were expecting for the worst outcome because of the countless impostor AU’s you’ve been reading, instead you were greeted by peaceful winds and kind npc’s who couldn’t identify who you were.

People weren’t enraged when you set foot in mondstadt. They saw you as a traveler from a different nation. Though the 5 star characters did recognize you. They recognized you and they all got down to their knees and worshipped you. They were all quick to offer their riches and services to you. Diluc even offered to be your personal bodyguard. Which made venti jealous and proceeded to fight the red haired man, claiming “I’m Barbatos! The god of anemo! I should be the one protecting their grace!” Which just further resulted to more conflict. You didn’t want to be caged and constrained. So while everyone was at each others necks, you flee from mondstadt and seeked shelter in an abandoned house somewhere in between liyue and mondstadt.

It’s been months since that predicament. You heard from passerby’s that mondstadt has spread word to the other nations that the divine creator is somewhere in teyvat. It honestly just made your life a hassle. You were constantly moving from one abandoned house to another. You even have tried to stay at the island near mondstadt that wasn’t on the map but to no avail. Apparently jean and venti remembered you taking them there (when you were doing the quest) and stationed guards there to assist you just in case you went there.

Liyue, on the other hand, had the adepti’s travelling from place to place everyday just to see if they can finally find their missing creator. Xiao was the one who always finds you. Which was irritating because you’re just so tired from going to another place on repeat. The geovishaps try to buy you time from escaping but they were only 2 hits for xiao before they die. You curse yourself from giving xiao such monstrous build. You were lucky at the last time you escaped xiao he was fighting cryo and hydro abyss mages with multiple cryo and hydro slimes. He was getting freezed constantly, buying you enough time to run to liyue harbor and fitting yourself in a box that was in a ship headed to inazuma.

Yeah- your acolytes are annoying to escape from.

As you stayed in an abandoned house somewhere in narukami island, you found out that genshin still works in your phone. You spent your days playing genshin even though you’re inside the game. When you heard that Ayato was the new character being released, you were on a nonstop grind. Apparently playing genshin while inside genshin has it’s benefits. You had infinite welkin and BP, making your life so much easier when farming for primogems. It wasn’t long before you managed to get enough money to bring the yashiro commisioner home. As you stared at his banner, you prayed to any archon and even to yourself (because you’re God, apparently) and wished for him. The night sky was suddenly filled with shooting stars in the colors of blue and occasional purples. You were in awe at the sight. ‘So this is how wishing looks for them’. Unbeknownst to you, everyone from inazuma went out of their houses, relieved to see the creator still well and alive. They wonder who is the lucky person who will be given the blessing of connecting with the divine creator. Who is the person that will get the golden star. As you hit 75 pity, you finally saw that golden star. And when you looked above the sky, that golden star brightly glowed in the dark sky. You even mistook it as a firework. But it wasn’t. You closed your eyes, fearing on losing another 50/50.

Ayato was calmly watching their creator blessing them a myriad of shooting stars. Feeling the relief of their creator being well and still caring for teyvat. His eyes widened as he saw the golden star that was glowing brightly. He felt a pang of jealousy hit him when thinking that it means their god had blessed someone in inazuma with their everlasting presence. He remembered the countless times Ayaka and him waited for their golden star, only to not be blessed. Those feelings were amplified when thoma received not one, but three purple stars. He wouldn’t mind getting atleast a purple one. Even a blue one. But all those feelings and memories disappeared as he saw the golden star was directly falling to him. “No..” he whispered as he held his hand out to the star that slowed down when it came near his palm. The star glowed brightly and he was instantly filled with warmth. Ayaka was also shocked at the sight in front of her. Ayato tears fall from his face as he heard a faint voice of the divine creator telling him “Welcome home, Ayato!”

You squealed when you saw ayato came home. “WELCOME HOME AYATO!!!” You exclaimed as you jumped up and down in joy. You were so overjoyed that you forgot the one problem you encountered while farming.

You couldn’t farm their ascension and talent materials for some reason.

As you sat down again, being bummed out by that. In the corner of your eye you saw your phone glow. Glancing back down to the device you were shocked to see the banner changing again.

It was Ayaka’s banner now.

You looked at your phone and to the night sky and thought ‘well, there’s no harm in wishing for the other sibling is there?’ And with that, another wave of blues and purples filled the night sky.

You swear you heard a distant cry when the gold star fell somewhere near the kamisato estate again.

#genshin cult au #genshin impact self aware au #genshin self aware #sagau #genshin impact #sagau x reader #sagau ayato #genshin impact x reader

[dmagedgoods]

Rating: General

Relationships: Raphael/Male Durge (my character Cian) Summary: The glorious hero failing? Dying because of a foolish mistake? Destroying his plan by losing his life so recklessly? Raphael won't allow it. (I’m always open for Raphael prompts btw, it just may take me a little time to answer them. ❤) Tags of importance: obsession, local devil struggles with feelings AO3 ~ You have been less predictable than most of your kind. The rich spectrum of mortal emotion is a palette of many hues. Adept and well-versed in its heady heights and delicious depths, I employ both to my advantage. They are, after all, of inestimable value in my daily business; however, in a primarily – one could say – academic sense; by no means from first-hand experience, naturally. But now I am astonished, little mouse, at finding myself invested in your fate, beyond those distant contemplations, fury bright and fierce in my chest. You stand amidst the gore, skin sickly pale against the ruthless red drenching your robes and the very earth around you. – A single pure white rose in a field of thorny brambles. Your innocence is deceptive, and illusion your design. But your subterfuge won’t save you now against the vigor of your enemies. You have miscalculated, and you pay the price, your companions vanquished, alive but spent, and fear written plainly on your pain-twisted features. You suck in a slow and shaky breath while I watch, at the edge of the chaos. I savor you, how your lips part around the barely muttered words of your last hopeless spells, the multitude of emotions passing across your desperate face. Is this how you plan to escape the claws, little mouse? Stealing away from this plane of existence? The anger burns higher, floods my veins. It seems there is only so much time left for me to enjoy you before you ruin my flawless plan with your incompetence. I am drinking in the sight of you, trembling with the heat of my rage and something indefinable, much colder underneath, when finally, you collapse and lie in a motionless heap among the dry, brown grass. The air goes still. Something overcomes me at the sight, and I struggle not to bare my teeth. With a flick of my fingers, your last two attackers burn to ash. Immediately, the wizard is at your side. “Give him room.” I approach, slowly. It is meant as a command rather than a threat, but my words fly with far more intensity than intended. If my thoughts weren’t utterly consumed by the figure lying on the ground before me, I might be concerned by the suddenness of my own outburst. “Would you be so kind?” With an arch of my brow the request imparts an order. The useless mage finally flinches back from where he is crouched at your side, but I can feel the vampling’s red glare on me from some distance behind where he too lies wounded, all your companions drained of all power to regenerate or heal. I lower myself to take a closer look at you. You are shivering. Sweat pours down your face in saline rivulets. The hollows of your eyes appear too deep, your skin waxy, your scent earthen and sweltering. I can feel the hostile magic still raging through your body. “You won’t escape me like that.” My voice seems to cut through the haze in your mind. Your long lashes flutter. Then your eyes meet mine, glazed and feverish. When I cup your damp chin you startle, sucking in a jagged, pitiful gasp. I swallow hard, ignoring your pained little whimper. Pathetic. A few infernal words and my own power cleanses you of the destructive influence of the magic your opponents infused into your blood. Perhaps unconsciously, you lean into my touch before your gaze clears. “Raphael?” A feeling rises in me, and I find myself suddenly consumed by an irresistible need to hide you away from all eyes, friend and foe alike. It’s agonizing and unwelcome, this foreign, ridiculous urge.

I am no stranger to desiring you, perhaps beyond what you are strictly worth for my plan, and as much as I attempt to distance myself from this need, I’m incessantly aware of its presence. But this is not desire. At least not in the way I’m accustomed to experiencing it. No, what tears at me and clouds my senses is something else, nameless because I deny it the solidity of a name, unacceptable because in conflict with my very nature. I take a slow, even breath, getting hold of myself before I can do something rash. Another flick of my fingers makes a potion appear. I uncork it and bring it to your lips. “Drink.” You do, your body language uncharacteristically submissive, docile like a mindless doll. It displeases me to see you like this, robbed of your gleam, of your value to me. In a few heartbeats, the liquid will take effect. I raise my eyes and examine your worthless companions for a long moment. They will make it back to your camp. With that, I turn away, ready to vanish from this place and leave behind me the brief but frankly alarming lapse in control I have experienced at your hands. Your voice stops me. It is disgustingly weak. “I … thank you.” With a wide gesture of my arms and a cold smile on my lips, I turn towards you once more: “The list of your debts is growing, little mouse. You can thank me when I come to collect.”

#raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #raphael #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate #baldur's gate raphael #dmagedtexts #my writing #faustian bargains #Devil May Care #my ocs #oc: cian #makeraphaelromanceable #my own entry 😏

[cherrypikkins]

Here is my contribution for today’s prompt for @fe-oc-week ! Oct 11 - Backstory

Today I will be providing more context about Kitt's life before Garreg Mach!

(cw: blood, death, injury, body horror)

Below the read more is more lore! :3

The Village at Lake Annwen - Part I Deep within the mountain wilderness lie the ruins of an ancient city not unlike Zanado. Here, the villagers of Annwen venerated Gwyn - the Unsung Hero - honoring their life and deeds through unique traditions passed down with each generation. In particular, the villagers safeguarded unique stones said to bear ancient magic. Each villager, when they were near adulthood, would endure a series of trials testing their bravery, skill, and conviction in order to inherit their own stone. The most prized of these stones was the Heart of Annwen, from which all stones of its kind originate. It was said to have been left behind when Gwyn entered their final rest. The youngest and last-known bearer of this stone was Kitt Burgess, who passed all their trials with success heretofore unseen.

Like their predecessors, Kitt was responsible for protecting the stone with their very life, and was provided secret tutelage on how the Heart of Annwen may be used. The most forbidden knowledge of all was the Rite of Awakening, in which the stone may be used to call forth Gwyn from their endless sleep. Though this would supposedly allow the hero of legend to return to life, such a course of action would have irreversible consequences for the villagers of Annwen.

By invoking the ritual, whoever carried the Heart of Annwen would serve as Gwyn's corporeal vessel. Those who carried its fragments close to their hearts would be offered up in sacrifice and reborn as Gwyn's retinue of warriors. And so, such a ritual was to only be used in desperate circumstances, when the village faced no chance of salvation and Gwyn was needed to avenge their people and protect the outside world from greater disaster.

Though the story of Gwyn and the former ancient city of Annwen is not widely known across Fodlan, the village received occasional visitors in the form of traveling merchants, pilgrims, and scholars who wished learn more of Gwyn, one of the more obscure figures in Fodlan's ancient history. In recent years, an envoy of mages began to make frequent visits to Annwen, dressed in dark cloaks and claiming to be affiliated with the Church of Seiros. Not long after, the disaster of Annwen unfolded…

Today, there is nothing left of the village - save for corpses and monsters among burnt buildings. Only Kitt emerged as the sole survivor, a familiar red stone embedded in their neck, and a knife clutched in their hands. The Church of Seiros conducted an investigation, but failed to determine the exactly what had transpired. At the desecrated site of Gwyn's final resting place, near the ruined village of Annwen, there is evidence that a ritual did in fact take place. But if it was indeed the Rite of Awakening, then something must have gone horribly awry - for the villagers have all transformed into Demonic Beasts… and the hero Gwyn is nowhere to be found.

The Capricious One - Part II The Capricious One lived in a time when the humanity began to turn jealous eyes upon the Children of the Goddess. Hoping to instill a sense of purpose in their wayward child, The Progenitor God sent The Capricious One to barter peace and diplomacy with the Agarthans when the first sparks of conflict appeared.

Instead, The Capricious One began to spy upon their own brethren in earnest for the benefit of the Agarthans, revealing the secrets of the Nabatean people and their physiology.

What was the reason for this?

Some say they held a grudge against their own family for past slights. Some say they desired a fair fight between the Nabateans and the Agarthans, fearing that the humans were far outmatched and in danger of being annihilated.

In any case, the Capricious One was genuinely invested in helping mankind advance their craft and innovation. They offered their scales and blood to the Agarthans, which would be used to fashion the first prototype Umbral Steel weapons - early predecessors of the Heroes' Relics.

Their contributions were enough to shift the tides of war, causing the conflict to escalate greatly. Soldiers wielding magical weapons of unknown make began to appear, sending the Nabateans on the backfoot and causing widespread destruction throughout the land. The Children of the Goddess whispered of a fearsome Agarthan warrior who shadowed their every step and harried them at every turn like a demon who knew their weaknesses, laughing and reveling at the violence that tore the beloved land apart.

The Umbral Weapons looted from the fallen Agarthan soldiers were brought to Sothis herself and examined more closely. It was then that the treachery of the Capricious One was finally exposed. They were the one responsible for these horrid new weapons, and they were the true identity of the Agarthan warrior who took joy in tormenting the Nabatean people.

Confronted by their brethren, the Capricious One prepared to explain themselves. But what the Immaculate One did next ensured that they would speak not one word more.

(to be continued…)

#fe3h oc #fe oc week #fe3h #fire emblem three houses

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Jamil, Idia: Desires so Deep

Ignore me getting a late start on this new birthday series 💀 (Got busy with irl stuff!!)

Oddly enough, the vignettes don’t mention Jamil’s birthday at all; they’re at the National Art Museum in the Land of Dawning to celebrate its 100th anniversary. It seems this new series (Platinum Jacket) will have vignettes with more focus on how the boys relate to and what they think about important historical figures in Twisted Wonderland!

… Also, the fact that the book 7 part 5 update came out a few days before Jamil’s birthday… and then his vignettes go and show a Maleficent painting in them… Yeah 😭 but what’s even funnier to me is that Idia calls Jamil a chuunibyou WHich iS SO ACCURATE, THANK YoU fOR CALLinG HIS ASS OuT, KING 🙏 What is Jamil doing in that sussy Groovy if not being a chunni…

A Tale as Old as Time.

Contained within a shining platinum frame was an illustration of a starry scene. A man in a fine white turban crowned by a single violet plume. A woman, perched on a balcony, in a refreshing blue-green, a jasmine flower set into her long, dark braid.

They stared longingly into each other’s eyes, conveying an emotion not spoken aloud. No words were needed for what they had: a love so tender it made the night weep. The stars into glittering tears sliding down the face of darkness.

Standing before the painting of the happy couple, Jamil folded his arms and frowned.

… Can feelings truly defy social status?

"A street rat marrying a princess… Hah."

His fingers curled to fists, digging into the pristine white fabric of his suit. Jamil's expression remained neutral, no hint of the bitterness brewing within. He was a master of leashing it.

What nonsense. I doubt their happiness lasted long. The difference in their standing is far too vast to be bridged.

Jamil lowered his gaze and looked away.

Adjacent to the loving pair was a spindly man with a curled goatee. His crimson and black headdress resembled the flared hood of a desert viper—a look iconic to the Sorcerer of the Sands. He gleefully clasped a golden oil lamp in his long, bony fingers. A remarkable achievement, an item he had been searching his entire life for.

Now, here was a great man. Someone who had slaved away and earned his reputation, climbed in social ranks on merit alone. The Sorcerer of the Sands would die a highly accomplished man, advisor to a sultan, renown scholar mage, and seeker of truth.

The very symbol of Scarabia’s spirit of deliberation.

"Jamil-shi?"

The voice was soft and nervous, like that of a specter not yet parted from this world. A faint blue glow fell upon the Sorcerer of the Sands.

Jamil turned, releasing a sigh when he realized who had appeared beside him. "... Oh. It's you, Idia-senpai."

"Eeep!" His upperclassman jumped at the mention of his name. He clung to the doorway, and anxiety evident on his pale face.

"Well? Don't let my presence deter you from appreciating the artwork."

"N-No, that's okay!! It was getting to be too crowded in the main hall, so I wanted to dip and take a breather somewhere quiet to let my stamina recharge... b-but that's completely pointless if other people are still around!"

"You won't even notice me. I not a snake—I don't bite," Jamil insisted flatly. Not unless I want to. "You look suspicious lurking in the doorframe. You may as well come in."

Left with no other choice, Idia awkwardly shuffled into the exhibit.

He positioned himself a good distance away from Jamil, not saying so much as a word as he stared at an ornate figure of a broad-bodied ape. Its lips were twisted into a grotesquely wide smile.

Nestled in the monkey’s palms was a massive red jewel, glistening even in the scarce light. Idia's own terrified reflection bounced back at him in the gem’s many facets.

"Can't believe I got dragged out for this," the third year grumbled under his breath. "I-I wanted to go to that pop-up Sled Over Heels collab cafe with the walk-in museum... Instead I have to be here and gawk at the same pictures I've seen over and over again in magic history textbooks... Aaah, it totally doesn't compare at all to cute anime girls pouring all their passion into the artful sport of sledding!"

Some small, fragmented part of Jamil grimaced at the disrespect, try as he might to close off his ears, to not engage. No good ever comes of provoking a stubborn mule, he chided himself.

But the devil on his left shoulder pounced.

"Idia-senpai," Jamil spoke carefully, a slight edge to his voice. It made the hairs on the back of Idia's neck stand at attention. "Are you not a fan of this style of artwork? Or is it the subject matter you find distasteful?"

His upperclassmen startled. Horrified as the realization that Jamil had heard his every complaint, the tips of his flaming hair colored pink.

"W-Well... I'm not exactly a buff for this kind of thing," Idia stuttered. "It's ancient history. Been there, don’t that. Th-There's really no point in being on that grind cycle if it all just amounts to the same ending anyway. That's basically all history is, anyway."

Jamil bristled—though he took care to not let it show. "I beg to differ. The story of the Sorcerer of the Sands defies such paltry notions. He struggled much in his life, even served under a carefree, incompetent sultan that barely listened to a work he said.”

I know what that’s like.

“Jamil…!”

A smile he thoroughly detested flashed in his mind. So big and pearly and irritating as he offered him his hand.

“Let’s start over. We can be rivals… but we can be friends too.”

But that boy was a fool.

Feelings can’t trump social status. Not then, not now. Not ever.

“And yet it was thanks to his contributions that he is remembered today as one of the greatest men to have ever lived. The Sorcerer of the Sands was able to break free and live as he desired. He acquired the Genie of the Lamp and phenomenal cosmic power. He decided his own destiny.”

"Uweh, sounds like he's your kami-oshi, Jamil-shi... I guess it makes sense though, since you and the Sorcerer of the Sands are the same character archetype and everything. Chunnibyous gotta stick together and all…”

"… What is that supposed to mean?" Jamil planted his hands on his hips. He didn’t understand all of Idia’s slang, but he also wasn’t sure if he wanted to.

Idia's eyes—wide and anxious—cut away from him. “I-It’s nothing important…”

“Then why are you hiding it?”

“B-Because you’re definitely the type who would hold a grudge if anyone pisses you off!!”

“How rude. I’m offended that you think so lowly of me.” Jamil allowed himself a little smirk. “I’ll have you know that I won’t stop there. In fact, I’ll enact a vengeance plot so excruciatingly humiliating that you won’t ever be able to face the light of day comfortably again.”

“S-See?! That’s what I meant!! Y-You’re a certified chuunibyou!!”

“Whatever that means, I assure you that I’m not. Is it so wrong to look back on history and to appreciate how far we’ve come since?”

“Th-That’s…”

Jamil found himself returning to the painting of the Sorcerer with the lamp. He was almost drawn to it, lulled into a hypnotic trance. An item that could make all of his hopes come true…

“Let me ask you this: if you could have any wish granted, what would that wish be?”

“E-Eh?! Any wish…” Idia fiddled with the glittering buttons on his suit. He nibbled on his lower lip, a darkness having swept up what little color there was left to him. “I-I can’t say it, but… more than anything, there’s someone I want to say goodbye to.”

“I see. A fond farewell.”

Letting go.

Jamil’s chest tightened.

In a distant memory, flowers of fire lit up the night. He had been dancing then, hair and fabric flying as he spun and spun and spun. When had he last felt so free? His wings unbound, the sky as his limits.

“As for myself, what I wish for most of all is…”

He glanced back at the painting of the two lovers. Star-crossed, against a star-streaked sky. Adventure calling, liberation beckoning.

A look most malicious graced his careful controlled features. Lips in a lopsided smirk, eyes like daggers, glinting sinisterly in the dark. Concealed weapons rising to the surface.

“… to be well-connected with people who may prove useful in attaining my dreams. Yes, that’s it. Useful.”

#twst #twisted wonderland #Idia Shroud #Jamil Viper #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland scenarios #disney twisted wonderland #spoilers #Jafar #Aladdin #Princess Jasmine #something no one asked for #Jamil birthday takeover #Zazu #Maleficent

[adastra121]

Touchstarved OC Relationship Chart

Part 2! This is my Unnamed!MC Luneth's relationship chart, using the template created by @deiimi.

“Fate has weaved our destinies together. Let us hope neither of our threads are cut short.”

Likes Kuras — “A fascinating patient and a fascinating doctor. How appropriate that our paths have crossed.” He saved her life. How can she hold a lesser opinion of him? Finds his presence to be the most calming, but she remains wary of him. Their interactions are amicable and polite.

He is unlike anyone she has ever met before, because of what she’s seen, what she’s sensed from him. 

He might hold a greater secret than anyone else in Eridia, and for once, she is unable to foresee the consequences.

She is understandably unsettled by him because of that.

However, he is kind, calm, and patient, so he’s easy to be at ease around. For that, she is grateful and naturally gravitates toward him.

Of all the Touchstarved LIs, Kuras is the one she would most likely voluntarily spend time with.

Likes/Dislikes Leander — “Never trust a mage with an oracle’s mission.” Admires his bravery to a degree. He did offer to be tied up, completely at the mercy of a stranger. It is brave — absolutely foolish, yes, but undoubtedly brave. She thinks he’s a bit of an idiot.

Would point out his blush every time. “Leander, you have gone red. Do you require water?” I think out of all my Touchstarved MCs, she embarrasses him the most often unintentionally. Good for her.

“I can keep you safe as long as you trust me.” “…Okay.” (disbelieving) 

You know that one SNL skit with Benadryl Gingersnap and the guy just saying, “Okay.” in the most unaffected tone? That’s Leander and Luneth.

Leander doing his utmost to charm her, and Luneth responds with an unfazed, “Cool. Moving on.”

The only one of my MCs who refused to touch him so she saw that scene.

He crossed a line when he grabbed her, not only did he ignore her warnings, it was also incredibly foolish and reckless. Both of them could have gotten hurt from his refusal to follow her lead.

He’s not a direct threat to her (yet) but she continues to be wary around him.

Not planning on doing Leander’s route with her, but I feel like they’d be hilarious together. And it’s not even like he wouldn’t be her type. The thing is, she’s fallen for a “heroic” mage before…but it didn’t end well.

All of their interactions feel like she’s going, “This could have been an email.”

Dislikes Vere — “You can peer into souls as easily as you breathe, yet you still see so little.” She believes he acts difficult on purpose and she would be right. As someone with a rigid sense of right and wrong, she dislikes his flippant morals. He claims to be old enough to have witnessed Eridia’s ascension, yet he has all the restraint and maturity of a child.

Basically, “you had a hundred years to grow out of it and you still act like this? Cringe.”

I feel like the dislike would be mutual. Vere would find her too rigid and strict with herself and others. It’s like forcing a paladin and a rogue to work together.

His power does not unnerve her, because she’d been around seers and clerics her entire life, and she has her own gift of sight.

Yes, she would prefer to keep her past and her secrets under wraps, but there was very little privacy in the temple. She survived then, she’ll survive now.

She just hopes the little fox won’t do anything drastic for a power fantasy. It would be…inconvenient. 

And although his power of sight is something she’s used to, she knows his other abilities are a very real threat. Unlike him, she is not a fighter nor a killer. If he chooses to sink his teeth into her, she has little way to stop him and for some reason, he seems to find her soul irresistible. “Kindly resist it.” So she remains on guard.

Oddly, as much as she dislikes him, she trusts his instincts the most.

Luneth is an efficient oracle and prefers to take the path of least resistance where she is able — and then you have Vere. A restless, hedonistic, chaotic obstacle that threatens to not only block off but also completely destroy the path to her objective, not even necessarily on purpose. Oh, but she has a feeling that he would.

As of the demo, they are mutually disappointed in each other — Vere finds Luneth imposes too many restrictions on herself that prevents her from realizing her actual strength and Luneth thinks Vere has the potential to be more than his facade, more than his desire for power, even. Both of them are going, “You could be so much more.” at each other about different things.

Likes/Dislikes Ais — “…Is there a bird in here?” Her feelings about him are similar to her feelings about Vere, to a lesser degree. He seems to have been honest with her thus far, so she holds some respect for him.

Ais is a bit of a bastard but he’s more manageable than Vere. At least he doesn’t go out of his way to get in hers.

She has very neutral feelings toward him.

To be fair, she has very neutral feelings toward most people.

Vere seems to hold some regard for him and she knows that Vere can see into people’s souls, so she assumes that Ais is one of the more genuine people in Eridia.

If it weren’t for Vere and Kuras, however, I don’t think she would interact with him very often.

They are on different paths, but there is potential for a strong friendship between them.

Her quote is in response to: “You look lost, little sparrow.” “…?” *looks behind her*

Dislikes Mhin — “Calm yourself. There is no need for such hostility.” She’s glad that she is still alive due to Mhin’s actions, but in all honesty, she just happened to be in the right place at the right time. So she doesn't feel very indebted to them, at least, not in the way she does Kuras.

They tell her they didn’t save her, she was only in the near vicinity of their mark and she believes them. Their goal of killing the Soulless just so happened to be beneficial to her. That is the extent of their exchange that first meeting and she owes them nothing. That works just fine for her.

Luneth is often annoyed by Mhin’s temper and standoffish attitude. It clashes with her cool, detached, and reticent nature.

Lowkey judges them for not having a better handle on their emotions but that could also just be projection on her end.

Mhin makes her feel more like an inconvenience to them than anything else, so…she simply won’t inconvenience them.

The hunter seems to prefer to keep to themselves and Luneth does the same.

#and I think I’ve caught up now with luneth #whew #she is initially very wary and mistrustful of all the lis because everyone in the only world she'd ever known had lied to her. #that includes the person who was trying to get her out and see the truth. they double-crossed her as well. #if she can't even trust the people she loved and thought she knew how can she possibly trust these five strangers #all with their own mysterious agendas and futures she cannot see #like alon she does not feel particularly close to anyone yet but that'll change with whichever character route she goes for #like jin she is more cautious about her relationships now #touchstarved #touchstarved game #touchstarved oc #luneth the unnamed #touchstarved kuras #touchstarved leander #touchstarved vere #touchstarved ais #touchstarved mhin #my oc #my original character #oc

[xiv-wolfram]

WolfBahn Ship Summary - Part 2

A Realm Reborn

Part 1 - Prequel I realized the comics are... a lot. So I decided to make a short summary of my Wolfram x Raubahn ship. As I started to write I realized it was also... a lot. So clearly WolfBahn is simply... a lot. Eh, this is still way less to read than the comics, enjoy.

13 years after Wolfram and Raubahn had broken up, Wolf knew full well that he was still in love and would never move on. Frequently hearing news about the famous Flame General of Ul'dah probably hadn't helped matters. He'd made a sort of peace with it and was living as an adventurer in Limsa Lominsa, helping others in order to atone for his past. He and his friend X’Rhun Tia, trained red mages on the rare occasion they had an apprentice. Otherwise, Wolfram's time was usually spent working for the guild or doing odd jobs for the Admiral to pay the bills while Rhun traveled.

During one such job, Wolf stumbled upon a plot by the Serpent Reaver pirates to kidnap people and have them enthralled by the Sahagain god Leviathan. After saving the day, Admiral Merlwyb threw a banquet with the adventurer as her honored guest. It was here that Wolf revealed a crystal he had found to the city leader and his new acquaintance Y’Shtola. They talked about the Warriors of Light that had helped during the Calamity. He was told he held a Crystal of Light and was the vessel of a higher power. Once getting some clarification Wolfram burst out laughing. Obviously, someone tainted like him wouldn't be chosen by a powerful and benevolent goddess. Despite his skepticism, Y'Shtola invited him to meet with the leader of her organization.

After meeting Minfillia, he was relieved to learn about the Echo - it meant the voidsent hadn't been getting stronger as it had claimed. Wolfram joined the Scions to study his mysterious power and help people on a larger scale. However, he couldn't deny that another motivation for joining the was to potentially see his ex-partner again (without the threat of jail, given the Scions' political standing). Having an Echo vision of Carteneau was honestly a bit too much Raubahn for Wolfram to shake off.

Wolf spent some time getting to know his new allies whilst aiding Limsa Lominsa and Gridania. Then he found himself in Thanalan face to face with the primal Ifrit and only had a brief moment to question why he wasn't being tempered before having to fight for his life. He made it out but many of the Immortal Flames weren't so lucky. He lamented not being strong enough to protect them. While thrilled and terrified at the idea - he would apologize to their leader in person.

Wolfram entered Ul'dah for the first time in over a decade. He attended a speech Flame General Aldynn was giving. Instead of the fear he assumed would invade his thoughts - Wolf felt nothing but pride in how far the gladiator had come. His cheers were the loudest.

Raubahn noticed Wolfram in the crowd and hardly believed his eyes. He had spent years lamenting his actions, trying to move on but plagued with regrets and wondering if his former love had survived the Calamity. Even if he’d betrayed his trust, the gladiator didn’t want him dead. Finally, he knew - Wolfram was alive and well! After he was done addressing the Ul'dahn citizens he walked up to Wolf, doing his best to hide a smile, and asked if the adventurer would like a private meeting.

The General had a busy schedule but they had a few moments to speak before his next obligation. Neither could hide their happiness to see each other again. Wolf even teased Rau a bit for being surprised that Wolf hadn’t wondered about him, forgetting that he was famous. Raubahn didn't blame Wolfram for his soldiers Ifrit had taken and was impressed that the man he used to know as a simple cook had defeated a primal. He extended an invitation to join his Grand Company and Wolfram said he would be happy to join the Immortal Flames. The gladiator was relieved to know the mage was alive and well after so long wondering. Their reunion felt wonderfully strange to both of them - any awkwardness was overshadowed by their pure joy. 

After returning to the Waking Sands to give Minfilia his report, Wolf went back to Ul'dah the next day to formally join the Grand Company. Raubahn had the day off but wanted to give Wolfram a tour of the headquarters. A new recruit receiving a tour from the General himself drew notice, but most assumed it was because he'd bested Ifrit. However, those who knew him best noted an odd change in their leader’s demeanor. Wolfram and Raubahn did some proper catching up, with Rau asking the mage what he’d been up to since he’d left Ul’dah. After hearing his journey of self-improvement, Raubahn told Wolf that he would have been happy to see him earlier and that his threat had been an empty one born from anger. Wolfram told the gladiator about his new life devoted to aiding others and was surprised to receive praise for the efforts he'd made to become a better person. Unfortunately due to some miscommunication and false assumptions about the other's preference, they ended up agreeing to keep things professional and not let anyone know about their past, despite them each secretly wishing to be friends. 

For most of the events of ARR they were coworkers who occasionally fell out of formality accidentally - like when Livia raided the Waking Sands and everyone thought the Scions were dead. Raubahn couldn't hide his relief when Wolf walked into the Alliance’s meeting to discuss the Black Wolf’s ultimatum. Merlwyb even teased Raubahn in private later for the most she'd ever seen him smile in a single sitting. Whenever someone caught on to their familiarity they admitted only that they had been friends years ago but asked that the information not be spread. The Monetarists were enough of a problem already and would absolutely use it to accuse the Scions of favoring the Royalists.

Things started to change between them the night before their attack on Castrum Meridianum. Raubahn took Wolfram aside to speak privately. He hesitantly asked if the mage had enough control over the voidsent to go into a building full of Garleans. Wolf was offended, assuming Rau was worried he would hurt the other Flames. He swore he would end his own life if he felt his control slipping rather than endanger anyone else. The General explained that's not what he meant - he didn't want Wolfram to risk himself and ordered him to flee the battle if he became panicked as he had occasionally in the past. The mage was furious at the suggestion and repeated back word for word something cruel that Raubahn had said to him when they broke up. The gladiator was horrified that those hateful words said in anger had stayed with Wolf all those years and started apologizing in an uncharacteristic panic, stating that if anything he said made Wolf not value his own life he was sorry and didn't mean any of it. Wolfram calmed down and explained that he was just bothered by the hypocrisy of suggesting he take such cowardly action by someone who’d called him selfish. He told the General that his harsh words were the catalyst that had set him on the path of atonement. If he was the hero people claimed him to be - it was because of Raubahn. While tense, that night helped resolve a bit of the pain from their past they were holding onto, helping them move forward and finally become more casual with each other.

Part 3 - A Ream Reborn Patches

#oc wolfram #ffxiv #ffxiv wol #ffxiv oc #hyur highlander #hyur #wolbahn #raubahn aldynn #raubahn #WolfBahn #WolframSaga #WolframBlog

[totally-not-here-for-the-smut]

This stuff is LONG and complex, and I’m not a native speaker. Which means, it’s hell, WHY BRAIN GOT NO RIGHT WORDS DAMMIT, but it’s also cool bc I can’t really understand HOW bad it actually is, so I’m less self-demanding about the actual style quality than in my own stupidly demanding language. Let’s get to the content then. I’m so very sorry for my children’s book language-level.

Pls believe that I am, in fact, not a child.

Tw:death, sickness, angst

and this is-

Loved & Lost

A The Arcana prequel fanfic - part 1

When the plague came, it started robbing you right away- it took your aunt and, before eventually claiming your own life, your love.

The wise woman who had been your magic mentor was one of the first to fall ill, as if the pestilence were trying to thin out the ranks of those who could stop it. She felt right away this was not a normal illness. The sickness got slowly the best of her body, as if it wanted to seep unnoticed into the city. Your aunt's body withered a little bit each day, her skin slowly tinging red by the engorged veins, but it never managed to steal her wits until the very end. When she was at last bedridden, she had Asra call for you.

You didn't recall where you were at that time. Your magical training was long completed, and you were travelling the world, scavenging for rare spell components, old scrolls and lost magic to bring home to her and to her new apprentice. You got home just in time.

The woman who was a little sore as you kissed her goodbye all those weeks ago now seemed barely more tangible than a ghost - pale and trembling, her clothes hanging empty from her once proud and graceful shoulder. But her eyes, although now tinted in red, were sharp and stern as they had always been.

You did not show any pity for her -she would never have allowed you to-, but when she took you hand in hers her gentle touch unveiled her deepest nature.

"I'm leaving, child", she told you. "But I need the two of you to stay as much as you can".

She called Asra by her side with a nod.

"I have lived a long life. The time I gave it back has long passed, but now death is catching up to me. Spare your tears and magic for the victims to come" she turn her head to face your friend. His purple eyes were veiled in tears.

"Asra, you're a mage now, your training is almost done. In fact, my nephew took my place as your master some time ago already. She'll be more than capable to fill in the gaps in your knowledge. Soon, you'll be a mage, but" - her eyes went narrow- "I want you to remember that you were took from the streets. Someone cared for you, listened to you, taught you everyone you know. You will have to pass your care on to whoever will need it. This is why I taught you magic". Asra couldn't do anything but nod. His lips parted, pronouncing a promise so feeble you couldn't hear -but your aunt did, and a faint smile showed on her chapped lips.

"Believe me, soon many will need it. But I know you'll both live up the cause. Now leave, I need to rest".

You didn't even take your travelling clothes off - you threw yourself into Asra's arms -now your apprentice's arms- to hold each other through the sorrowful night.

She died shortly after. Many vesuvian would have come to salute her, but you and Asra decided to do hold a more private gathering - you, him, and Faust. The snake was so torn that even her scales seemed to grey. She squeezed one last time your aunt's familiar, a pitch black crane called Hermes, who took flight as soon as the mage's funeral pyre was lit.

You kept your head high and your eyes on the flames, resisting the urge to bury your face on Asra's chest and cry your heart out. Instead, you held his hand tight, grounding yourself into the two things that mattered in that moment: Asra's love, and the promise you both made her - to stay and care for the city.

So, when the plague erupted in Vesuvia and Asra began insisting to leave, your fights became vicious.

✧

I want to really thank @wilson-artisan and @lovely-dove69 for their help as proofreaders. They un-dorked my writing a lot.

I feel that I must pay credit to various writers as well who inspired me: check bakuliwriter's "Hurt", that set ablaze my drama thirst. I can totally see it in the same timeline as this thing.

The other parts will be in te reblogs!

Navigate it from my masterlist

#the arcana #the arcana game #asra the magician #arcana #julian devorak #the arcana smut #arcana fanfic #asra smut #julian smut #julian devorak smut #julian x reader smut #arcana angst #the arcana angst #the arcana prequel #asra x reader smut

[sparrowsage]

Running Out of Time: Part 1

Meeting Your Prince

Oh look, another series! I've had the idea for this series for so long and finally got the motivation to write it! This will be a sfw series in regards to any sexual themes, so if sex isn't your thing, this is the series for you! I hope peeps enjoy it!

Much thanks to my pals @oddsconvert, @darkthingshappen, @whumpcereal, and @quietly-by-myself for listening to me go on and on about this series lol, they helped push me to get it out! And thank you as well @skittles-the-whumpee and @goronska for the beta job on this chapter! It's very much appreciated! And one more thanks to @inscrutable-shadow for making the banner for this series!

TW: Brief death threats, cruel insults and treatment towards mages, mentioned and implied genocide (if I missed any, let me know!)

Time is a complicated thing if you think about it long enough. Was there really a concept of time or did people make it up in order to have some sense of stability as the sun rose and set? Who was the person who invented time? No one knew. It was and has always been there, present in everyone’s lives. 

“You should really watch who you pick on. You never know who’s going to show up.” 

“Oh? You think you can protect such a low life from me?” Dominic spat, glaring at the boy who stood in front of him, a woman on the ground, shrinking away from the conflict. “She shouldn’t even be alive! Why bother saving someone who’s probably trying to poison the people in the Kingdom with the food she’s selling?” 

The boy scoffed at Dominic’s words, glancing back at the woman, who looked up at him with pleading eyes. He looked back to the other, a small grin now on his face. “Magic doesn’t taint the food she grows and I highly doubt she has any ill intentions. She’s just trying to make a living for herself. Unlike you, she actually has to work in order to live. You just live off your parents’ money, which in my opinion, has no payoff. No sense of fulfillment.” 

Dominic’s eyes grew wide for a moment before his face was etched with anger. “I’ll get all the fulfillment I need when I wipe that fucking grin off your face!” 

The boy raised his eyebrows at the statement as he watched Dominic start to raise his sleeves, as if he were saying ‘Try me’. The look made Dominic all the more furious, his face turning red as anger consumed him, but as he took a few steps forward, rearing his fist back to take a swing, the boy’s eyes lit up, going from their emerald green color to a light green misty color, the mist shimmering and shifting. As soon as it appeared, it was gone, but it was enough for Dominic to freeze in his place, his angered expression shifting to that of fear. 

“I suggest you stay away from her,” the boy stated, his grin never leaving his face, “Unless you really want to see how far I’ll go to protect her.” 

With that, Dominic started taking steps backwards before he started tripping over himself as he turned, running back off towards the town square. When he was out of sight, the boy turned to the woman, who was staring up at him in admiration. 

“Lex, you have to be careful,” she said as the boy went to help her up, picking up the few items that had fallen from her cart. “One day you might get hurt.” 

Alex chuckled lightly at the concern, handing her the items he had picked up. “Even if I get hurt, it means you and the others didn’t, so it works out. I’ll be fine, Candace, promise. Always am.” 

Candace smiled softly. “If you say so. Thank you for what you did, I don’t think I would have made it home if it wasn’t for you.” 

“Don’t mention it. Someone has to show him up. I’ll try and pop by sometime later this week. Shane said he wanted to teach me a new casting form and I haven’t had time to make it out to the village yet.” 

Candace moved to the back of her cart before taking hold of it, “Sounds like a plan. See you around, Lex!” With that, she started off towards the edges of the capitol, pushing her cart along. 

Alex let out a sigh as he watched her go before turning around to go home himself. It was midday and if he wasn’t at the castle come the counsel meeting, he’d be in deep trouble. 

In eight days, he’d turn eighteen and be crowned the next king of Carnmont in front of the whole kingdom. Preparations for the ceremony were already underway, and with each passing day, Alex was growing more and more anxious. So many things could and probably would go wrong, but he’d have no choice but to work through it. 

For many years, the five kingdoms and their kings have despised and feared mages, seeing them as a threat more than anything else. Ever since Alex was born, he had been hidden away in the castle, not allowed outside its walls due to his father “protecting” him. In turn, he was raised to believe that mages were awful creatures, things that should never exist due to the mysteries of their magic. For a decent part of his life, Alex believed what he was told, how could he not? Everyone in the castle preached the same words. When he was sixteen though, he had been alone in his chambers when he discovered he had magic of his own. That he was what the humans of this world hated and feared. 

Alex kept this hidden, not wanting to know how he’d get treated by anyone in the castle, let alone the people he was destined to rule over. As time moved forward, he practiced using his magic in secret, eventually finding a way to sneak out of the castle. He knew that he couldn’t reveal his identity to the kingdom's inhabitants, so any time he went out, he wore the same type of clothes his subjects wore, appearing to be a normal teenager amongst thousands of subjects. Once he figured this out, he never stopped going on his adventures outside the castle. 

Most mages didn’t openly use their magic, especially in the capitol, but the ones that did, Alex went to them first. He wanted to learn how to better use his magic by those who had their own, even if he had his doubts. Once he met a few, he started meeting many of the mages that called Carnmont their home. They kept him safe, gave him a home that he felt he truly belonged in and he was able to be who he wanted to be. They also made Alex realize that they weren’t what his father and the rest of the kingdoms made them out to be. 

Now, almost two years later, he knew the true extent of what a lot of his future subjects thought about mages, and Alex hoped that he could one day change that. But he also knew that the moment he appeared at the ceremony, the moment they all saw him, chaos would ensue.

Alex took the long way back to the castle, sneaking back in the same way he snuck out, knowing he’d have the time before the meeting. He always had enough time, and with the added stress of the coming days, he wanted to spend all that he could outside, where he felt the most like himself. 

He had just finished changing back into his royal attire, stashing his other clothes in a box deep in the back of his closet, when there was a knock on his door. Alex straightened immediately, running his hand through his hair in an attempt to correct it before letting out a soft “Come in!”

As the person came in, Alex made his way over towards the door, acting how he usually did in the castle. “The counsel meeting has been pushed up by an hour and your father requests your presence, your highness,” the servant said, his hands neatly held behind his back. 

Alex smiled at the servant, Martin was his name, giving him a soft nod. “Thank you, Martin. I’ll finish getting ready and make my way over to the counsel room.” With that, Martin nodded his head before exiting the chambers, shutting the door behind him. 

Once the servant was gone, Alex let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. Everything would be fine. If anything, this meeting was to finalize preparations for the ceremony and ensure nothing would go wrong, Alex was almost sure of it. 

It didn’t take Alex long to finish getting ready; all he had to do was straighten up his appearance and put on his cloak, a bright green color that matched Carnmont’s national color. Once he was ready, he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he left his chambers, making his way to the counsel room. 

Once he reached the door, he went in quietly, keeping his gaze down slightly as he made his way to his seat right beside his father. Looking up to address who Alex thought would be his father and his trusted counsel members, the prince couldn’t help but let out a small gasp at the people he saw. 

Where there would normally be the counsel members Alex saw daily in the castle, in their spots were the other four Kings from the other kingdoms. King Falcious from the Fernmont kingdom, King Terlin from the Tyrmont kingdom, King Vandelmere from the Valemont kingdom, and King Percious from the Poremont kingdom. 

Alex did his best to mask his confusion and anxiety as his gaze moved from each king to another, bowing his head in a respectful greeting, glancing at his dad. 

“Nice of you to join us, Alex,” David said, placing his hands on the table gently. “We were just discussing the arrangements of your coronation.” 

“Indeed we were, and it seems like we can finally get started for real now that you’re here,” King Percious said. 

“It’s nice to see all of you,” Alex started, keeping his hands under the table so he could fidget with his fingers, “and I mean no disrespect, but why are you all here? I’ve never heard of all five Kings coming together to plan a coronation for one kingdom.” 

That earned a few chuckles from the men seated around the counsel table, David turning to look at his son, “There are a few things we all needed to discuss about what is to be done at your coronation that will be carried out in the other kingdoms.”

Alex couldn’t help but let the look of confusion cross over his face. What would his coronation have to do with the other kingdoms? 

“You see, Prince Alex,” King Vandelmere said, “For many years, mages have scourged our lands with their magic, caused chaos and destruction wherever they go. Myself and the other kings, including your father, have been discussing this matter for a few months now, sending many letters back and forth on what we should do.” 

“With your coronation being eight days away,” Percious interrupted, “we thought it best to carry out our plan at the ceremony, or at least carry out the first part of our plan. We’d be going back to our respective kingdoms afterwards to carry out the same plan, but we thought it best we start here.” 

David waved his arm to signal quiet among the royals, looking to his son. “After the main part of the ceremony, you’ll be declaring a new law that will exist across the five kingdoms.” 

Alex’s heart had dropped at the mention of mages, but he didn’t dare show his emotions on his face, keeping his expression as neutral as possible when more was said. Under the table, however, his hands were balled into tight fists in an attempt to keep his composure. 

“And what’s the new law?” Alex asked slowly, his anxiety climbing. 

“The new law will consist of this; every mage or suspected mage in any of the five kingdoms will be captured and arrested and to be executed in the capitols square at the next mid day after their initial capture.” 

As David spoke, the other kings nodded in agreement while it took everything in Alex’s power not to cry out an objection. It took him a moment to swallow the lump in his throat, trying to figure out how to respond. 

“And you want me to be the one to issue the law after my coronation?” he asked, looking at each of the kings in turn. 

King Falcious nodded, “People from all over Carnmont will be in and around the capitol to see the coronation. With them already there, it seems to be the best fit to issue the new law instead of having everyone come back a few days later. Plus, it’ll show the subjects of Carnmont that you’re ready and capable of ruling over the kingdom.” 

This couldn’t be happening, it just couldn’t be! Alex had already been worried about the coronation because people around the kingdom would recognize him as the rebel mage, as Lex, but now? If he were to show his face and issue the law, chaos would wash over the citizens of Carnmont at having a mage be king. 

Alex must have stayed silent for too long because his father looked to him with a bit of concern. “Alex, I understand that it’s a leap from what your normal duties have been up til now, but it’s important to go into this with a bold, strong approach. I’ll still be in the castle and will teach you everything you need to know, but you’ll have to get over the anxiety that plagues you.” 

At the words, Alex had to refrain himself from shouting at his father. The anxiety he was feeling wasn’t because of him ruling the kingdom, it wasn’t because of the duties he’d be faced with. It was because the moment he got recognized by the many faces from the capitol, he’d be called out for his magic and get executed. He wasn’t sure if his father would believe it or not, but the chaos that it would cause? He’d have to do something to Alex to make peace, and Alex didn’t want to find out what his father would do. 

The prince forced himself to take a deep breath, nodding his head in fake agreement. “You’re right, father. I’m sure I’ll catch on pretty quickly once things get moving.”

At that, David smiled a bit, his son's words pleasing him. With that said and done, the kings and the prince went forward with the meeting, discussing in more detail about the coronation and Alex’s part in declaring the new law, as well as how the other kings would issue the law once they got back to their respective kingdoms. 

The meeting overall was around two hours and once everyone was dismissed, Alex politely got up from his seat, doing his best to calmly walk back to his chambers. Once he was there, he shut and locked the door, collapsing to the ground, his whole body shaking. 

What was he going to do? He couldn’t go through with the coronation now. Too many things would go wrong. He’d get arrested and killed, or at the very least locked up. The people of the kingdom would throw riots, possibly thinking that his father was a mage too. They’d overthrow the royals in a heartbeat and possibly start war with the other kingdoms. It was all too much and Alex’s head was beginning to hurt with the many horrible thoughts on what could go wrong. 

And then there were the mages. His friends, who he felt were more his family than his own flesh and blood. They’d get caught and slaughtered like pigs on a farm. How could he warn them without being seen? How could he get them to trust him? Alex knew that some of the mages were hard stuck on staying in the kingdom, doing as they pleased with little fear towards his dad and his men, but he couldn’t let them stay here and get killed! 

After a long hour of crying quietly in fear and trying to come up with an idea on what to do, doing his best to calm himself to stop shaking, Alex had made up his mind. After a day or two of preparations, he’d round up all the mages in the Carnmont kingdom that he could find and they’d flee into the forest that was in the middle of the five kingdoms lands. The forest in there was dangerous and no one dared to venture near, but Alex was sure that with the help from the other mages, they’d be able to live in the heart of the woods and stay safe from the genocide the kings were about to start. 

Tag list: @inscrutable-shadow, @oddsconvert, @darkthingshappen, @whumpcereal, @quietly-by-myself, @skittles-the-whumpee, @goronska (if anyone wants to be added, let me know and I'll get you added asap!)

#Running Out of Time #ROOT #Alex Cresky #David Cresky #Carnmont Kingdom #whumblr #writeblr #creative writing #magic #fantasy #fantasy writing #mages #mention and implied genocide #brief death threats #insults and cruel treatment of mages

[oathofpromises]

“ i love you. i’m sorry. ” — Data to Hiroto

Hiroto's chest trembled with a mix of excitement and apprehension upon hearing those three words. When was the last time someone had spoken those words to him with genuine intent? Data wasn’t a liar; he had always been honest, ever since the day he met the brunet. But could the viper allow him to get that close? What if he saw something and ended up leaving, too? The little love Hiroto had left and the constant fear that somehow his heart would shatter if someone else came into his life only to end up abandoning him or, worse, stabbing him in the back. It was causing the viper felt overwhelmed, as he leaned against the table.

“Data…those words…please don’t say them to someone like me. I am the least suitable person to be graced with something so tender," Hiroto whispered, as his hand reached out and softly brushed the side of the brunet's face.

Data was a beacon of sunlight in the darkness, the one person who had seen Hiroto in his entirety and never judged him for his past. He had even forgiven the viper for attacking Stella, which still shocks him to this day. How easily the red mage had worked his way into the older Caelum heart, but all that would await Data would be pain. Darkness that would threaten to consume him too, and that was the last thing Hiroto wanted. He was too good for him, that much Hiroto was well aware of, yet he yearned to be close to him, even if that was selfish.

Gently, his fingertips brushed against the softness of Data's lips—a simple gesture that sent Hiroto's heart into a frenzy of butterflies.ed the viper; left his chest feeling heavier than before. The truth was, he longed for Dat’s presence, yearning for their souls to intertwine. However, a haunting trepidation enveloped his heart, echoing the realization that agreeing to the brunet's proclamation of love would eventualy lead to Hiroto destroying all that Data was.

Leaning closer, he felt Data's hand grip against him as he pulled the other so close. With Data's lips just inches away, he felt an irresistible pull to move closer. As time went on, his breath became increasingly labored, as though the atmosphere itself was infused with an undeniable chemistry. The notion of distancing himself from Data and fleeing appeared to be the most effective means of keeping the other safe, but the ache in his chest remained unrelenting. The gentle movement of his thumb against the sides of the other person's face held him in place, preventing him from leaving.

“You should run... All I do is destroy anything I care about,” whispered Hiroto, as his lips briefly pressed against the brunet’s. It wasn't a full-on kiss, but the fleeting touch of their lips sent a wave of goosebumps across his skin. The taller Miqo’te pulled Data even closer than his white tail wrapped around the bard’s leg’s leg.

"Please, push me away. I don't want to hurt you," Hiroto whispered, his hands gently cradling the brunet's face. As he kissed Data again, tears threatened to spill down his face, a mix of joy and sorrow. Why did it feel like paradise to kiss him? The way it made him yearn to be even closer was almost unbearable. They were already leaning into each other, their bodies positioned in a particularly intimate manner.

“You..changed everything.. I was okay with you all hating me. I could handle that. I have allowed no one close to my heart. Not since… It doesn’t matter. You make me question so much. All those feelings I had thought had gone are now flaring back up again. I burn for you, Data. I want you to flee, but the other part of me needs you close and I know how selfish that sounds. You turned my dark world into something brighter…and I don’t know how to handle that.”

One time, he had given his heart away in such an unreserved manner. He had faith that the people he loved most weren't going to abandon him, but in the end, they were the ones who stabbed him in the back. acted toward him as if he were a monster, and perhaps a part of him still harbored the belief that he was one. How else was he supposed to feel? Anytime someone got close, they would either stay for a time or end up leaving and the viper would once again be left alone to pick up what remained.

"Please don't say those words unless you truly mean them, Data. I can’t handle losing anyone else or being abandoned again…it almost killed me last time. Some part of me wishes it had.”

Hiroto took a step back, releasing his grip on Data, and deliberately turned his back on the other. It was best to just keep Data at arm’s length. To let him down easy and watch as he fell in love with someone else. It wouldn’t be that difficult. There were plenty of others out there that were much better than he was. They would take care of Data…give him the life he deserved. It hurt a lot to admit that to himself and did nothing but cause the ache in Hiroto chest to grow larger.

In the end, who could ever love a beast like me...

“I know…you care but trust me. There are better people out there that can give you the life and love you deserve. Don’t pick me…because I wouldn’t.”

#— ❛❛ // HIROTO CAELUM ¦ Painful past and shattered Hearts yet a light burning within ・ 「 Threads」 #— ❛❛ // DATA MOCHI ¦ Sunlight in the darkness you never gave up on me・ 「diademreigned」 #— ❛❛ // HIROTO CALEUM & DATA MOCHI¦DYNAMIC・「I swear I’ll be yours forever my beloved 」 #ooc: I know this is littler shorter than my usual but left it open if wanted to do something with it

[mocha-writes]

Sun, Moon, and Star OC Meme

Tagged by: @perkeleen-lavellan 

Sun

Isaac Hawke

Honestly, this ended up being the only motif left after assigning moon and star to my Inquisitor and Warden, but it fits a cheerful extrovert with red hair. Besides being a musician, I’ve pictured Isaac as someone who gardens--I don’t know if I’ve discussed this headcanon anywhere before or not, but I want to think that he and Merrill actually restore the gardens at the Amell estate--and the idea of sunlight as restorative and nurturing seems relevant for that. There’s also a connection with Varric’s tarot card representation (the Sun), so I think this suits Isaac rather well.

Moon

Solomon Trevelyan

Solomon has the color scheme for this, with albinism making him unusually pale and white-haired, but thinking of the moon as a representation of mystery, cycles, and emotion, I think this fits him as well. He’s a necromancer whose magic taps into life energy itself and deals with spirits that could easily be considered demons, and his life has been marked by phases that ultimately end in a “return”: growing up in the Alienage, being adopted into his father’s family after his mother’s death, being sent to the Circle where he gradually goes from rebellious apprentice with multiple escape attempts to Senior Enchanter and person who keeps the Ostwick branch of the Libertarians afloat after news of Kinloch Hold’s near-downfall causes a decline in membership, the Circle falling just for him to end up as part of the delegation of mages at the Conclave, being Inquisitor, and finally shedding that title by disbanding the Inquisition as well as his “human” name in favor of reclaiming “Sulevin,” his birth name that he had no choice but to give up when recognized by his father, Bann Trevelyan. He’s gradually had to learn to bottle up his emotions and get better at picking his own battles just to survive, but I still picture him as someone who feels a lot, deeply, and this, combined with “dark forces aren’t necessarily evil” and “it’s never too late to reconnect,” make me think a moon motif suits him.

Star

Ephraim Surana

This one came to mind immediately, because I’ve had “Ephraim studied astronomy in the Circle and is fascinated by the stars” as a headcanon for long time. Thinking about stars as crucial to navigation and as ways of understanding the world, considering all of the myths and history associated with constellations both in our world and Thedas, I think this motif suits Ephraim, who I also associate with stories and history. I feel like I’ve talked about the headcanon that he loves romance novels and has written fanfic for his favorite ones a lot, but one I haven’t focused on as much is “he translated and made copies of the Eluvian manuscript that’s crucial to the plot of Witch Hunt, so there’s no stealing of the text from Ariane’s clan by Morrigan, who’d have her own copy that Ephraim shared with her during the Blight.” I want to think there was an entire “ring” of mages dedicated to ensuring access to their people’s knowledge that the Chantry tried to claim and to preserving what they might have brought with them from outside the Circle, like songs, recipes, etc. It’s not an original idea by any means (thank you Kari/October-Rosehip for having things like this in Macsen’a backstory if you see this), but the sheer concept of an “underground elven library in Kinloch Hold” compels me. To bring this back around to stars, thinking of them as omens makes me think of Ephraim as well—he’s my oldest Dragon Age OC and has been through so many changes. I’ll probably mess with his story more if I ever get to replay the series again. But one theme I want to think has been consistent with him, and one I want to keep, is “no matter what one has done, one can always decide and try to be a better person.” When I think of omens, I think of symbols, mysterious and powerful, and I think that suits the Hero of Ferelden.

Tagging: @scribbledquillz @zeesqueere @musingmycelium and anyone who wants to do this and needs an excuse. Let me enable you. There’s no obligation, as always, this was just fun and I thought I’d share

#ephraim surana #isaac hawke #solomon jacob raphael trevelyan #this has been in my drafts for weeks I am posting before I change my mind

[autumnalwalker]

Hi Sage

Your characters go to a hat shop because for plot reasons they need fancy/silly hats to survive a Situation. What do each of them get?

Oh, this is a fun one! Going to imagine that the Situation is the hypothetical “Attend a fancy party to infiltrate the host’s mansion and discretely liberate something/someone from the host,” episode plot that I’ve been wanting to do as an excuse to put everyone in fancy outfits but haven’t figured out a good place to insert into the timeline yet.

Ashan: He’s long made a point of not wearing a hat as part of his wizard ensemble as a means of stylistic divergence from his mentor whom he otherwise dresses like. Alas, Sullivan has talked him into wearing a suit instead of robes for once in his life (still the same white color scheme), but he doesn’t know how to not Be A Wizard at all times, so he goes all in and compensates for lack of wizardly robes with a pointy hat with a brim half as wide as he is tall. He justifies his selection by pointing out that keeping his face semi-obscured will be beneficial if they’re going to be doing activity that they may not want traced back to them.

Lacuna: Originally planned to go for something tastefully low-key, but after seeing Ashan make his selection goes for the most gothic witch hat she can find. Alterations will need to be though as by this point she finally has a handle on transmutation magic and intends to show up to the party with cat ears. The milliner is both an eccentric and a mage (perhaps a redundant combination of descriptors) and by the time they’re done with the “alterations” the hat Lacuna picked out for herself is no longer so much a hat as it is one of those hat-shaped fascinators that stick to the side of your head.

Eris: After being assured multiple times that violence is going to be actively avoided on this mission, she’s excited to get to wear something other than red for once. Rather than a true hat, she goes with a hooded veil that matches the dress that’s been commissioned for her for the occasion. Taken together with the teal/blue color scheme, the effect whenever she moves is something like watching a swirling pillar of water glide across the room, as if she were some sort of waterfall spirit rather than a human garbed in probably-enchanted cloth. I’ve got the visual comparison between cloth rippling over muscles with water flowing over rocks stuck in my head.

Sullivan: He already has a hat and outfit, so he’s just here to foot the bill and provide commentary on everyone else’s fashion sense. When he gets home he’ll go pull his old tiara out of storage. Not the one he had as a kid - he pawned that one off ages ago when he first ran away from his parents’ castle with Road - but the one his wife, Carnette, gave him as a gag gift after she found out he was technically probably still royalty. Given that he married the most powerful sorceress across multiple worlds, even a joke gift from her is enchanted (probably literally) to hell and back. It’s a gaudy eyesore, made worse by the knowledge that all of the jewels and precious metals used in its construction are completely real and worth more than the most people would ever even dream of making in a dozen lifetimes. He finds it hilarious, and the pleasure he takes in watching people try desperately to keep a straight face and pretend it’s not ugly borders on sadistic. This also, of course, utterly ruins the point of everyone else’s selection of headgear that at least partially obscures their faces, and he absolutely knew it would but said nothing while watching the others pick their hats.

Road: Will be pretending to be a servant/caterer/house staff/etc. to sneak in and thereby avoids the need to purchase a hat. In a pinch though, they can just have their shapeshifting symbiote jacket turn into an outfit with a hat, in which case they would probably just copy the look of one of the other guests’ hats.

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing asks #oc ask #blorbo blursday #blorbsday #hat ask #empty names

[koneko-pi]

Sharing on Tumblr a little cut from my Fanfic Silver Season. Its on AO3 right now and idk if I'll be putting it on here too, that seems like such long posts sometimes XD but if people want to see it I will try! But here, just a part of the 3000+ word first Chapter.

Emergency captains meetings had, at one point, been few and far between. And Nozel would not have to schedule himself so sparingly so he could be called upon at any moment's notice. But recently it seemed like every other day he was being summoned up to the Wizard kings castle to listen to everyone bicker amongst each other. Even now down the empty hall he could hear Yami's overly loud voice arguing with, most likely, Jack.

"Do you two ever shut up?" Nozel commented to them as he walked through the doors and over to his own space to sit down between Dorothy and Jack.

"You can shove it Braid-Face." Yami was immediately on the defensive over whatever topic had him so worked up.

The silver mage had already been in a foul mood that day but to be so atrociously insulted, by a foreigner no less, had his mana flaring up already.

"You need to calm down." Fuegoleon, newly appointed back into his position, pushed himself in before some kind of fight could take place. "We're all tired and tempers are short. There's no need to antagonize one another, especially not in front of Julius who is in the worst state of us all."

All heads turned to their now tiny wizard king, who looked incredibly apologetic at having to summon them here once again.

"Please forgive me…" he said as soothingly as he could. If it had come from anyone else the captains would not have calmed down as quickly as they did.

"What brings us all together this time?" Nozel asked after gaining his composure again.

"Yeah, no offense Julius, but some of us really got our plates full." Yami huffed, a cigarette was held tightly between two fingers but was unlit. It was pretty obvious how badly he wanted to light it though.

What Yami was referring to was the unfair task placed upon his squad after the Elven attack, repel, and then trial of his squad mate Asta. Not only did the bulls have their hands full looking into Devil nonsense but everyone else was still busy repairing not just the kingdom but their own reputations. Many of the citizens had lost a lot of faith in their Magic knights after it seemed they had turned against them as traitors. As a result everyone was running themselves ragged and tempers were short.

And that was no different for the captains, organizing the work forces on top of attending these regular meetings, they too were all looking incredibly tired.

"I really do apologize for summoning you all so suddenly." Julius sighed. "But I promise this time it's important."

Rather than explain himself what was happening he nodded to Jack.

"Keh…" the man seemed bitter as he turned and shouted to the doors. "You can bring it in!"

"Bring it in?" Charlotte looked confused, mirroring everyone else in the room as two Green Mantis knights came in carrying a large blanket-wrapped something.

"Good lord, what is that stench!?" Kaiser was first to recoil from the horrid odor that was permeating the room.

"Is it that?!" William was leaning away as the two magic knights tossed their load over onto the meeting table. Its bindings came undone to reveal what was inside…

"That's the biggest ant I've ever seen!" Rill gawked at it. It was a suspicion the boy had an odd interest in magical beasts with how often he used them in paintings. This reaction just further proved it.

Laying now on their table, undoubtedly dead, was a massive Ant. Its body was a shiny red color with a foul smelling green fluid leaking out of open gash wounds that must have taken its life. There was no shine to its lifeless eyes and over all the creature was easily the size of a large dog.

#black clover #black clover oc #fuegoleon vermillion #fuegoleon #oc x canon #black clover anime #black clover fanfic #nozel x oc #nozel silva #I know some of you have already seen this XD #thank you for all the advice

[irishk0rn]

Death and his [half elf] Daughter

A fan au of the wonderful @scourge-lover ’s Death and his Daughter au. It belongs to her and I suggest you visit her page and read her fics - she’s sweet and the au is incredible. She’s brilliant. I love her.

The fan au involves Kael’thas and Kael’thas/Arthas. Sapphire would be a half elf -- Kael is trans. Have fun. This is part one of two.

   The journey was long and grueling. Kael’thas had to do a lot to get past the defenses of Icecrown Citadel. And even then, when he made it, the journey was even more exhausting. He has to stop often — for he had a child with him, and her father was the man who resided in this disgrace of a castle.

   He got by on the recognition of him by Marwyn — Falric nearly shoved an ax into his neck — but thankfully, Marwyn stopped him. Falric’s expression softened whenever Marwyn’s voice spread through the air. Kael had always thought that they would end up together — and it seemed his assumption was correct.

   The small child he held close to his chest for warmth shifted and whined, grabbing Kael’s attention for a moment.

   “I know, I know, my fire gem, I know,”

   Marwyn spoke, “Why are you here, Prince Kael’thas?” he asked him, looking down at the child who had nestled into his chest and neck. Kael looked down and stroked her hair, letting out a sigh. A kiss of the wind caught his breath and it showed in the air.

   “As you know, Arthas and I were… involved. In Dalaran. This is… his daughter. Sapphire,” and he showed Sapphire. Her cheeks and nose were red from the cold that she wasn’t used to. She whined and tried to curl up again, and Kael’thas sighed. “I’m hoping that… he’ll remember our time together. And help me, my people,” he looked back down at the child, “and his daughter.”

—

   The shaking of the citadel was nothing to take lightly.

   Arthas was angry.

   It had happened one day — it seemed Kael pushed the death god too far. Not at the time, it didn’t seem so, but recalling the events, Kael knew it was his fault. Of course it was — the source of Arthas’ anger seemed to always be him. He wondered why he hadn’t just killed him and his little fire gem as soon as they showed up at his citadel.

   He looked down at the bleach blonde little girl in his room. He couldn’t find her for a moment, but quickly registered that she had hid under his bed. He sighed and got down on his stomach to face her level. “Sapphire,” he said, his voice low, “I need you to stay here. I need to… confront your father.”

   Sapphire quickly grabbed his hand and shook her head. “No, papa,” she mouthed, no sound coming out of her throat. She was too upset. Kael’thas brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed it. “I will come back, I promise,”

   Sapphire nodded and did as she was told. She trusted Kael’thas. She trusted her papa.

—

   Ice and wind was being thrown left to right. Kael had to dodge it a few times, but his lanky build and quick agility made it easy and barely a task to do so. He approached the being, not man, responsible for this unsafe use of ice elements. He’d become so angry over such little, trivial things — Kael’thas couldn’t understand why he was so pissed off. It was completely unnecessary and Arthas could just speak to him like an adult.

   “Arthas.”

   The way Arthas turned his un-helmeted head back to face the blood elf was spine chilling. Kael felt a ripple of fear start from his spine and wash over his body, but he stood his ground. “Stop,” he said. He was still being cautious, but firm, as you do with Arthas. “You’re acting like a child.”

   The mage quickly realized his second sentence was a mistake.

   The blue fire in the death knight’s eyes seemed to ignite even more than they already had. “Me? A child?” Arthas could hardly believe the name he had been called. And if he recalls correctly, which undoubtedly he does, this spoiled, entitled, never-worked-or-fought-a-day-in-his-life blood elf prince just called him a child. He had to work for everything, everyone, all the affection he had, he had to earn it. Kael never did. And he never will. And he has the audacity to call him a child?

   A flurry of ice blinded and burned the eyes of the blood elf and he remained disoriented for a moment, enough for Arthas to thunder behind him when he finally regained his senses. Sadly, Kael noticed his presents and in the blink of an eye was about twelve yards in front of Arthas. Well, fine — it gave Arthas enough room to charge and tackle Kael’thas.

   In a flash as quick as his own flame, Kael felt the harshness of the ice below him clash into his head and back. A weight, a bulky one, was seated on his ribs and he swore his ribs would crack and puncture into his lungs. He gasped, and found the crazed eyes, smile paleness of a face he once loved simpering above him. He squirmed and fought, able to wiggle enough to kick his foot in Arthas’s face and stun him. Arthas staggered back and held his nose, the blue fire igniting even more as Kael backed up and began to siphon his fire magic.

   Both their eyes fell to Frostmourne — a trap for Kael’thas on Arthas’ part, and a fool’s belief on Kael’s. Kael stopped his spell and bolted for the sword, and he dove for it, but was met with the burning sensation of his face and hands sliding against the ice. He looked around and found Frostmourne not on the ground, but in the hand of the lich king.

   He stood and began a spell once more, trying to watch Arthas closely for any sudden movements. If he knew Arthas, he knew he was more brawny than brainy. But he quickly lost sight of the undead, and now his spell was ready.

   He lost it and cried out in pain when his body yet again slammed against the unforgiving ice, so hard that the ice cracked where his head had slammed down against it. Blood trickled down his forehead and into his ice, mixed with half-drying sweat. A pressure was brought down against his back; a boot. It pressed down.

   “Arthas,” he wheezed, the fall having already knocked the air out of him. He could hear and feel his spine crackling under the massive boot.

   Tears began to well in his green eyes from the pain and his spheres got smaller, insinuating he was at his limit of using magic. He could hardly focus on his environment, let alone his own magic.

   “Arthas,” he wheezed again, feeling his ribs threatening to snap under the pressure. He felt like his lungs were going to explode. “Stop,” he whimpered. He hoped pleaing would solve his dilemma.

   Just like that, the pressure was lifted, and the mage thought that maybe his dilemma had been solved by Arthas’ human side fighting for return. No — he quickly realized one of his spheres, the left one, whom he’d named Sage, had flown into Arthas’s face and blinded him with fire. The knight’s left eye and nose now had a harsh and open burn scar, undoubtedly mounting in pain from the furious winds of Icecrown.

   Sunstrider struggled to stand as he sent out fire bolts to attack Arthas from every which way, but they seemed to just bounce off his armor and fizzle into nothing. One attacked his neck, which caused him to let out another ferocious cry of pain. A cry that made even Kael’thas feel remorse for his action. But he quickly snapped out of this mood as he continued to move back from the white haired human, keeping his distance — he was a ranged attacker after all. Spells didn’t mean shit if he didn’t have room to cast them.

   His fire took control of Arthas’s left hand, the one that held his sword, and heated the metal so much that it singed the man inside of it. Arthas cried out and tore off his glove, which his palm and a few fingers had been burned like his face. He tore off the other one while he resisted the winds’ further tearing and burning of the skin and muscle of his hand — and this was the only time where he thanked a god other than himself that he had fur and cloth inside the rest of his armor and it could not be burned. If anything, the warmth fueled him to go faster without having to deal with the minor sting of rubbing against the cold cloth and armor.

   “I,” began the undeath, which kept Kael’s attention for a few moments; precious moments he could have used to conjure up another spell. “did everything for you.”

   Arthas’s voice began to thunder and he picked up Frostmourne with his right hand — being able to use it just as well as his dominant hand — and he relished the fact that the blood elf had begun to tremble in fear and anticipation. He just could not stop watching Arthas, for whatever he was doing next. But Kael’s hands began to burn with fire.

   The undead’s boots made the ground shake and quiver as he made his way up to the mage, who began to back up as fire channeled behind him. He hoped the fire would provide some kind of protection to him.

   He made the mistake of turning his back to Arthas, who pinned his robes down with his foot and bashed the blunt end of Frostmourne into the back of his head. He cried out and fell to his knees, the ice under him cooling any fire he had built up in his magical hands. The fire around him shied away and fizzled at Arthas’s presence, as if the fire itself was scared of the lich king.

   “I took you and your abomination into my citadel,” Arthas released the robes from under his foot’s hold and walked beside the elf’s torso, kicking into it, hard. Kael let out a grunt and recoiled his arms into his stomach for even a slight promise of cover. “We’ve given you food,” Another kick. “And protection,”

   This time he walked up to the end of Kael’s height and when the mage looked at him, with the pleading green eyes he always knew, the darkness clouded his judgment in a storm. He raised his leg and brought it down with brute and thunderous force onto his forehead, once, then his face, thrice, and then his neck, twice.

   He knelt down and grabbed the scalp of Sunstrider’s head, bringing his bloodied and bruised face to look at him. He could barely do that — one of his eyes began to swell and the opposite cheek of the eye was swelling under the other eye, with a cut under it that was gushing blood. His nose and his mouth was painted crimson and it stained the ice below him; it would always be a memory of what took place at that spot.

   “I believe that was a mistake. But don’t worry, Kael,” he said, as if the promise he was going to make would solve the problem he had exacerbated. 

   The elf sneered and it seemed the expression of it crept onto Arthas’s crazed features. “Your apology can make all of this go away. Your apology and your submission to the scourge,”

   If it was only himself, Kael might have agreed. But he had someone else to look after. A purpose. A purpose to fulfill. So to the man that tried to make him give it all up — he spat blood in the face of him.

   This did not appease the undead king.

   The sneer twisted into an angry frown and he wiped the burning blood from his still-open burn on his face. He reeled back his right fist to connect it to the prince’s, when he heard a small voice call out.

   “Dad!”

   Arthas paused, his fist still reeled back, before his eyes landed on Sapphire. Apparently she was also his offspring as well. Blood, not familial claim. His father showed him long ago that blood does not mean family.

   But he quickly paid no mind to her and released the tension in his fist, the tension now traveling as force to Kael’s nose, which had already been gushing in blood. The breaking of it painted Arthas’s knuckles red. He relished the cry of protest from Sapphire. Another punch.

   She ran over to the two men despite the protests of the mage in Arthas’s grasp. “Daddy, no! Please! Stop!” she begged. Her eyes were full of tears and her cheeks carried them uncontrollably. Kael could only let out small and quiet groans in protest of his daughter, the very reason he just defied the lich king, grabbed at Arthas’s wrist, trying to free him. A sick part of the lich king found her failure amusing.

   He shoved her back with his right hand and she slid a few yards on the ice — it didn’t affect her as much as Kael’thas, though.

   When Arthas finally let go of Kael’thas’s precious hair, the elf was nearly unconscious. Sapphire sat up and kept begging her father to not hurt Kael, but her pleas were tuned out by the darkness cloud of Arthas’s mind. Now, he grabbed Kael by the back of his collar and began to drag him across the ice.

   “I let you in… because I remembered our time,” Arthas began, giving an angry smile to Sunstrider as he resisted squirming. “Our love. But then. But then you left me. Like Uther, like Jaina — like everyone, you left me,” A trail of blood across the ice led to the pitiful scene. “I thought that you loved me still, maybe. Maybe I could have had a loyal presence by my side as I crushed the world for the glory of the lich king,” Arthas stopped at the edge of the ice, looking down at the Spikes of Saronite. “I thought you were different again, Kael,

   “I loved you.”

   Menethil��s burned hand closed around the throat of the mage and he began to climb the ice leading higher into the air. It was like picking up a couple of grapes, really, because Kael’thas was just so small. It was sad how tiny he was compared to him. He held him over the unforgiving height they had climbed to of the citadel.

   “You brought this on yourself, darling, really. You know I would never want to hurt you.”

   The blonde struggled again, or tried — he couldn’t lift his arms, or legs, he only had his words that were laced with venom and gurgled by blood. “Let… go… of… me.”

   Arthas let out a scoff in the form of a chuckle; he was astonished.

   “Anything for you.”

   The pressure on Kael’s throat was released and replaced with a pressure around his whole body as he began to fall. The scream that escaped the child was worse than the winds of Icecrown; a shriek of pain and horror that even the lich king’s victims had never been able to have escape their lungs. It seemed enough to crack the ice.

   Kael’thas felt weightless as he fell, like a feather. And he braced himself for the pain — because he knew the fall was not going to kill him.

   His lungs didn’t have enough capacity to let out the scream he felt, and somehow he hadn’t fallen unconscious. But the pain and suffering was all there — he would have rather died than feel the pain. It hurt so bad, and he heard his daughter’s scream and felt her tiny arms around his head. Felt her sorrowful tears fall on his cheek. He let out a light groan, unable to speak, unable to tell her beyond that that he was still alive.

   A death knight’s horse ran over, he could hear the pounding of the charger’s hooves. His ears were the only things that seemed to work now. He could hear Falric’s voice. And Marwyn’s. Marwyn’s voice was sympathetic and pitiful, trying to tear his poor fire gem away from his body. Falric, on the other hand, picked him up, like he was nothing. Like he was a couple of grapes.

   And he heard Arthas’s boots. Falric was yelling at him, but he couldn’t make out the words. Sleep slowly began to take him and suddenly, he couldn’t hear anything anymore…

#world of warcraft #wow #kael'thas sunstrider #arthas menethil #irishkorn #irishkorn fics #death and his daughter #death and his half elf daughter

[lookbluesoup-rp]

LFRP - I'lyrha Rinha

THE BASICS:

Age: Mid-20s

Race: I-Tribe Seeker of the Sun Miqo'te

Gender: Female (She/Her)

Marital Status: In an Open Relationship, Polyamorous

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE:

Hair: Calico

Eyes: Green

Height: 5ft (152cm)

Build: Sleek, practical muscle, befitting a life spent sailing

Distinguishing Marks: Long silky calico fur, scars on knuckles & back, one gold tooth

PERSONAL:

Profession: Red Mage (Previously a notorious pirate/slaver)

Hobbies: Meddling in other people's business | Getting into barfights | Napping in the sun | Drinking | Fishing | Training & Derring-do

Residence: None, she's a pilgrim!

Birthplace: Somewhere along the Ilsabard coast

Fears: Being recognized as an outlaw | Voidsent | Witches putting curses on her (I know)

Major Traits: Gregarious | Competitive | Proud | Adaptable | Sly | Penitent | Flirtatious | Brave | Snarky | Insecure | Curious | Honorable (ish)

RP INFORMATION:

DM me here, you can also check the intro post pinned for my discord and whatnot.

I prefer more flexibly-paced, story-focused RPs and to write in Discord, on Tumblr, or through GoogleDocs (preferred)

Regular adventures, shenanigans, etc are great! Serious/mature themes, moderate gore, horror, whump, & sensuality are also good as long as boundaries are clear/respected.

One-offs and longer interactions both are fine! Friendships, rivalries, enemies, romances, all good!

PLEASE read the info in my intro post!

RP HOOKS:

(below the cut)

Heart & Steel: You're in trouble. Be it bandits, rampaging goobbues, an abusive master, or a vengeful second-in-line-for-the-Duchy trying to get you out of the line of succession, it's Lyrha's job to defend those who cannot defend themselves. Fate draws her to your aid, and honor demands she sees you through to the end of your troubles. Or, perhaps she's more interested in the potential of a reward... It's, uh, little hard to be sure.

Heart & ... Steal?: While Lyrha's generally reformed into a model wandering heroine, she does occasionally blur the lines between right and wrong. Poncy stuffy Lordlings who look down on their servants and have more than they need are just asking to have an heirloom disappear mysteriously. That corrupt tax collector who took the flour some farmers needed to get through next winter can dine on limestone dust instead. And the predatory broker demanding three times the price she paid for a treasured mother's wedding ring just to get it back won't notice their ransom has been swapped out with a glamoured copper band. If Lyrha's stealing from another thief.... is it really stealing?

Birds of a Feather: Lyrha's griffin isn't exactly the most... well-mannered of beasts. For that matter, neither is Lyrha. Either she's managed to offend her bird (not difficult) or it's managed to offend her (also not difficult), and now it won't come to her call. And you, lucky soul that you are, have somehow been roped into helping her appease, soothe, flatter, or maybe even find the temperamental beast. Preferably before it maims someone. ...Did she mention it's part Vochstein?

Pound of Flesh: Try as she might to put it behind her, Lyrha's history is back to bite. Years spent sailing with notorious pirates and trading in human chattel has given this "queen" quite a reputation in some circles. And quite a bounty. There are no small few across Eitherys who would pay handsomely for her capture -- authorities, bereaved families, and slighted blackguards alike. Others would like nothing better than to hunt her down themselves and take their revenge.

Live By the Sword: Be it in an act of heroism or unfinished business from her past, I'lyrha has been badly wounded. Maybe she came to you for help, or maybe you were just in the right place at the right time to see that she needed it. Maybe you're the one she was trying to protect. Whatever way, this Red Mage is in need of healing, hiding, or both. It's an opportunity for a bit of altruism on your part, or else a chance to demand a bargain with someone who knows they don't have better options.

Once A Pirate...: I'lyrha's learned to behave. Mostly. Except she's still got the mouth of a sailor. And she still can't seem to avoid causing a ruckus at every local tavern. She stared too long, or spoke too uncouthly. Gave insult. Maybe to you. Maybe it was about honor, or money, or a boast, or a pickup line, or a mistaken identity. Either way, it can't be allowed to stand. Get ready for a good, clean, honest 1v1. Not a bar fight. No, a duel. A duel. Hey, wait, put that chair down

I'm Not SUPERstitious: Yes, Lyrha's afraid of ghosts. And sirens. She crushes all her eggshells to bits. She won't kill albatrosses, or eat bananas, and she whistles to summon the wind. Maybe you've done something she considers bad luck, or her obsessive eggshell-smashing has caught your attention. Maybe something on your shirt means she won't make eye contact. It's as good a reason as any to strike up a conversation with a stranger. ALTERNATIVELY: You have requested/hired Lyrha's assistance dealing with a voidsent problem. She'll help you. But she's going to complain the whole time.

Seasalt: Lyrha knows how to live off the sea. Be it a small fishing boat or as part of a larger crew, she's a useful addition to a vessel of any size. She knows the currents, too, and places to hide along the coast... and how to best keep from drawing unwanted attention to valuable cargo, from the Ruby Sea to Limsa Lominsa.

@mooglemeet

#signal boosts appreciated! #ff14 lfrp #ffxiv lfrp #lyrha

[typically-untypical]

Echoes of the Past - Day 7

“Stay with me. Stay with me. Stay with me. I would write the words a thousand times if they'd be strong enough to hold you here.”

CW: Main Character Death fake out

Note: This is an extra part to my Through The Screen story. You shouldn't have to have read that to understand this though.

Janus looked down at the form bleeding in his arms. "Stay with me, stay with me." He begged quietly, putting pressure on the wound he had made. He would say it a thousand times if it would be strong enough. If magic was real maybe his words could be magic but he knew it wouldn't be enough. The man in front of him was already growing pale. "Logan I need you to stay. You can't do this to me, I don't know how things will function without you." He pulled his glove from Logan's chest, copper red painted across yellow, it was an unsettling contrast that made his stomach turn. How could he fix this, what did he do? His breath was short, heavy in his chest as he looked down at the man in his arms, quickly losing closer.

Logan had a small smile on his lips as he reached up, "I'm still with you," He said softly, "I still love you." The dying man was reaching up to him, trying to calm him but it only made Janus choke more on his tears.

His heart sunk into his chest; he didn't deserve that love. He didn't deserve that care, not when his knife was sitting off to the side of them, not when he had been the one that had caused the wound. This what he was supposed to do but he had long ago given up the pretense that he was going to actually hurt Logan. Logan ago he had promised he would protect Logan and yet here he was the instrument of Logan's demise. He closed his eyes, tears sliding down his face on both sides. "Logan, please don't," he said, "Please don't leave."

The mage gave Janus a weak smile before the light faded from his eyes. His hand fell and Janus was left with the echoing realization, that he was alone. His family might take him back, but he couldn't return to them. Not when they were the reason that he had become the monster he was. Not when they had trained him and taught him, and that training was why Logan was dead. Janus reached for the knife, flingers clasped around it.

He had no where else to go.

Janus woke up in a cold sweat, turning over in his bed, reaching for a light or something to pull him out of this darkness. His lamp wasn't on the bedside table though. This wasn't his room. He paused, trying to sort through his thoughts until he realized what was happening. He was in Logan's house, in the bedroom that Logan's mother had given him after he ran away from his family. It was a place for him that wasn't really a place for him, a house that wasn't yet a home. For the past 6 months he had been trying to figure out his life, trying to figure out how he was going to move forward without the support of his family. His family was all he had ever and trying to live without them was a challenge he didn't know how to face. He didn't want to go back to them, not when he realized just how toxic their ideals were, but what did he do now? What's more, he didn't know how to unlearn everything they taught him, and what if one day he turned his back on Logan? What if his training kicked in and he really did kill Logan one day? Even just hurting him was out of the question.

Maybe that was why he felt such an intense need to protect his boyfriend, and the dreams were just his subconscious' way of punishing him for ever thinking about taking the life of someone so wonderful. Janus curled up on the bed that wasn't his, in the room that wasn't his, in the house that wasn't his. He loved Logan, but being like this, existing like this felt so extremely lonely. He didn't know what to do. He was waring in himself and he didn't know how to fix everything.

As he continued to wallow further into his self-pity, there was a knock at his door. It had to be the middle of the night so he had no idea why anyone would be knocking. Was it a ghost? He went to grab one of his spectral blades, listening to the soft tapping one more time before throwing open the door. Janus immediately dropped the blade when he saw Logan standing there, an arm wrapped around himself, curled into his pajamas.

"Apologies, I didn't mean to disturb you if you were sleeping, I just... I had a bad feeling." His eyes darted down to the knife now on the floor, but he didn't flinch away. He never flinched away. Why wasn't Logan scared of him? Janus took in a slow breath, letting his shoulders relaxed. Sometimes, he forgot how powerful his boyfriend was, and that was a big reason about why Logan wasn't scared, because there was no reason for him to be scared.

"It's alright darling," Janus whispered, opening the door and letting Logan in. "Would you like to sit and talk for a bit? Maybe it would clear both of our minds."

Logan wasn't normally like this, soft, quiet, reserved. He typically walked around with a confidence and grace, both of which Janus admired, so to see him sitting softly on Janus' bed, curled up and looking up at the ex-hunter with pleading eyes, it was enough to calm the fear echoing in his own heart. Even more so than ever before, Janus wanted to protect him. 

"Thank you," Logan tapped the space next to him, not offering but asking for Janus to join him. The other teen obliged, and Logan curled up against Janus and letting out a soft slow breath.

There were no questions asked between them. Janus just wrapped an arm around his taller boyfriend and leaned in. The two of them didn't need to talk about what was going on, they could just exist for a while. Maybe once they were both more comfortable they could talk but for now, as long as Janus was able to find some peace in Logan, and Logan was able to find some peace in Janus, the two of them would be alright. 

It didn't matter that Janus was in a place that wasn't his. It didn't matter that his family was no longer his.

Logan was his, and Logan was safe. That was all he could ask for.

@simplestoryteller @fantasticfangirl21 @joylessnightsky @melaniidarling @tsshipmonth2020

#Untypical Creations #Sanders Sides #Sanders Side fic #Fanfic #Janus Sanders #Logan Sanders #Through the Screen #It was all a dream main character death #eotp2022 #loceit #not like I'm trying to summon crow or anything #janus angst