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elegantjellyfishwerewolf · 6 months

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AU Trollhunter! Nomura

This AU was made me and @enniyart

Eclipse Armor. The difference between this and the sunlight armor is the presence of a mask that protects against the magic of the Decimaar blade.

#trollhunters #tales of arcadia #toa #wizards #root #trollhunters rott #3below #trollhunters rise of the titans #art #fanart #AU Nomura trollhunter #toa nomura #nomura trollhunter #trollhunters nomura #zelda nomura #nomura #eclipse armour #trollhunters eclipse armour

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illustratus · 9 months

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Studies into the Past (Études sur le passé)

by Laurent Grasso

#laurent grasso #art #esoteric #medieval #knights #europe #solar eclipse #eclipse #sun #moon #european #landscape #middle ages #armour #nature #knight #architecture #architectural #history

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ask-healthy-light · 1 month

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The sincerity and sorrow in his voice meant a lot to Cadance and the two Young Princesses, but Luna and Celestia knew that Shining was merely using it as a facade to hide his fear, and when he pulled them closer for a tighter embrace, they could feel their hearts ache; but Shining knew he could not embrace his Family forever, and to his dismay, he was forced to let go of them not long thereafter.

After Shining wiped clean his tear-stained face, he helped his Daughters and his dearest beloved to dry their tears, before he sweetly offered to give Flurry and Twila a lift on his back to the aura, where they could wave each other goodbye; and to his relief, the Young Princesses happily accepted, and they swiftly jumped onto his back, but Shining did not even notice, as if they weighed nothing.

Packed and fully protected from anything that could be thrown at him, Shining slowly turned around, and solemnly told their friends in the Great Hall that they were welcome to join them, but he would not fault them if they stayed; but to his pleasant surprise, not a single being remained seated, as Eclipse and Spike, Star and Amethyst, Sunburst and Starlight, and even Frost all rose to join them.

It was clear that Shining never expected that everyone would be willing to accompany them, but when Eclipse walked up to him, Twilight whispered that he should not be so shocked, before they gestured for him to lead them to the border; and after Shining shook his head, he said that they were right, as he would not want the others to wait for him much longer, which startled the Two-Headed Alicorn.

As Shining walked to the doors to head outside, always keeping a close eye on his two Daughters, he politely asked a worried Eclipse if they could help Cadance out with looking after Flurry and Twila while he was away from here; but Eclipse did not answer his request, and instead, after he repeated himself a moment later, they quickly agreed, and quietly asked him who 'the others' were in return.

Fortunately, when Shining realised what he said, he managed to stay calm, and he politely told them that he meant the Guards at the Outpost, of course, whom had been waiting there for an awfully long time already, and it was time to head there to help them; and he loudly told himself that he had to remember to arrange another shipment of supplies, trying to cover for his mistake as best he could.

To the others' relief, Cadance believed Shining at his word, and she merely looked at him in wonder and awe, overjoyed to have met and married such a helpful, honourable, and honest Stallion; but out of all these qualities, Shining was breaking the latter, as he, and the Princesses with whom he was conspiring, were lying to Cadance for her own good, despite feeling terrible over the mere thought.

But although Eclipse smiled in return, and encouraged Shining to make haste to head to the Outpost, Celestia discreetly whispered to them that their friends were not ready yet, and they were not able to bring Shining to the Dragon Lands yet; but they could not make Shining wait for them, either, so the best thing they could do for them all was to warn Shining, and to tell him it may take a while.

While Celestia and Eclipse discreetly spoke with one another, miraculously without Cadance noticing their conversation, Luna frequently reached out to Nox to ask her for an update, to which she often received little more than a request for patience in return; but eventually, just as the whole group in the Empire stepped into the grassy fields, just as they silently passed the Mirror, she stopped.

A small and warm smile grew upon Luna's face as she put her hoof to her chest, and listened closely as her Daughter let her know that they were finally close to an unremarkable area, which Ember said was a neutral area; but they had to be careful, as only half of their group was able to fly towards it, while Light, Boom, and Courage either had to travel by hoof or paw, or had to be carried there.

Almost in tears to know that Nox and their mutual friends were close to safety, Luna told her:

"Do what you must, but I beg you to stay safe, and to take no unneeded risks…"

(Thanks for reading! And if you enjoyed, please reblog! Thanks in advance!)

Send an ask or request! | Start at the beginning! | Next part!

Featuring: Nox Lunarwing from @nox-lunarwing Boomlord from @thedumbguywithaheart43 Princess Twila from @twila-bloggin Solar Eclipse and Twilight Sparkle as Twilight Eclipse from @asktwilighteclipse

(P.S. At the moment of writing, I’ve just crossed over into Germany, about to get off at my next station, where I’ll have an hour of transfer time. Still have like 6 hours to go… and waiting is one of them.)

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soulsbear · 1 year

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Hand anatomy being strange aside, @xdeusxmachinax inspired this piece. This is how the eternal knight went down you heard it here first

#trollhunters #tales of arcadia #gunmar #jim lake jr #halfway through i remembered hed been in the eclipse armour and i had to switch my colours lol #soulsbear art log

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queen-ofthe-nerds10 · 1 year

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Charlie Swan x reader- The step-mum

Warnings: verbal abuse/adult language, slight Bella bashing, slight age-gap, pregnancy

Description: Being a step-mother can be hard especially to a teenager and when a baby comes into play it can be so much harder

AN: Set in between new moon and eclipse

You loved Charlie Swan. You had met him when you broke down by the side of the road when heading home from work. It was dark and you were slightly scared when you heard a car pull up behind you, Charlie had been your knight in blue armour riding a broken down police cruiser. You then dated and got married within two years and in that time you had only met his daughter, Isabella, twice, once a year into dating when she came to stay for a couple days and then on your wedding day.

Having only met the girl twice when she moved to forks it was very awkward. Isabella, who preferred to be called Bella, was quiet, shy and standoffish when she first moved in and Charlie wasn’t that much better so you felt like it was up to you to get the pair talking and relaxed. You tried your hardest to make Bella feel at home but everything you did never helped. Bella didn’t like you no matter how much you tried so you just gave up trying and left the girl to her own life and only really got involved when Charlie needed you too. But the biggest problem was that Bella blamed you for everything, if something went wrong with her car she blamed you, if something happened that she didn’t like she blamed you and worst of all when Charlie banned her from seeing Edward Cullen she blamed you.

After Bella had ran away to Italy Charlie had hit the roof, he had gone from panicking, to scared, to anger all within an hour and all you could do was stand there. So when Bella arrived back in forks with Edward Charlie had been angry and banned Bella from seeing the Cullen. There had been a massive argument between Charlie and Bella which you had tried to calm down but it ended with Bella calling you a bitch and running to her room.

It had all calmed down slightly since then and you had talked to Charlie about letting Bella see Edward somehow but he was not budging from his ban which was very understandable but it didn’t help your relationship with the girl. But you were trying to get Bella to at least be civil with you and that’s what led you to today.

Charlie was currently at work and it was just you and Bella in the house and you had planned to cook her tea and talk while you ate in hope that you could build some kind of relationship with her because you had some big news for the pair of Swans.

You had been feeling off so you had spoken to some friends who had suggested you take a pregnancy test which you did and it turned out to be positive. After going to the doctors to confirm the pregnancy you still hadn’t told Charlie as you wanted it to be special for him but you knew that it couldn’t be special while the house felt like a war zone.

You cooked Bella’s favourite meal and once it was ready you shouted up to her room and then started to plate up the food. You placed the food on the table and waiting for a couple of minutes before shouting up the stairs again but Bella never came down. You waited for about an hour, eating your own meal before it became cold with the full plate and empty chair in front of you. Once you had finished you put the left overs into tubs that then went into the fridge and then went to sit on the couch and watch some tv waiting for Charlie to come home. You didn’t have to wait long for Charlie and once he had walked through the door he ate and then you went to bed.

(The next morning)

The sun had just risen when you were awoken by your stomach turning, you jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom and you only just made it to the toilet in time. The fast movement must have woken Charlie up because he was fast to follow behind you to hold back your hair and softly rub your back. “Honey, you ok?” He asked gently when you had finely finished, he helped you sit up and grabbed a glass to fill with water. You nodded slowly, taking the water and drinking some before you answered, “yeah, I’m fine, it’s normal at this point of the pregnancy.” You didn’t even realise what you had said before you heard the clang of your toothbrush against the sink, Charlie had picked it up to give to you but dropped it in shock at what you had said.

“Pregnancy?” Charlie asked quietly staring wide eyed at you, you opened your mouth to say something when a screech caught you off guard, “what?” Bella must have heard the commotion and exited her room to hear the word Charlie had said, “your pregnant?” She asked screaming loud, her face turned red with the anger that ran through her veins. “You can’t be pregnant!” She shouted staring at you from the door of the bathroom. Charlie still hadn’t moved or spoke since Bella made an appearance so you stood up and smiled slightly at your step-daughter before speaking softly to the both of them, “I wasn’t really that sure how to tell you both but I found out I’m pregnant on Monday, I’m about eight weeks a long,” you smiled, stepping forward towards Charlie who’s eyes had began to well up with what you hoped was happy tears, “Charlie, are your alright with…” you were cut off by your husbands lips meeting yours.

Charlie pulled away holding your waist softly, he had a massive smile on his face and a couple of tears running down his cheeks, “this is amazing!” He said hugging you close before he turned towards his daughter who was stewing with anger in the doorway, “isn’t this great Bella? Your gonna be a big sister.” Bella’s jaw dropped, there was silence in the house before Bella began shouting at the top of her voice, “Great! Great! This is not great!” You sighed slightly leaning into Charlie’s side when he pulled you closer to him, “a baby will ruin everything, you shouldn’t even be married to the gold digger,” she pointed at the with a shaking finger, “and now your having a baby with her.”

You knew that she could go further but the Swan was cut off by her father who shouted loudly, “don’t speak to her like that, Bella!” Charlie kept you in his arms looking at his daughter who had become quiet, “this is an amazing thing to happen to us and you need to except that,” Charlie looked at you with loving eyes and then looked back at his daughter, “(y/n) is my wife and you need to speak to her with respect, you’re already on thin ice with the whole running to Italy thing. Do not make that ice thinner!”

Bella huffed at her fathers words and stormed to her room, you heard her door slam shut and it shook the house slightly. Charlie sighed and turned to you with his arms wrapped around you, he smiled and hugged you tighter. “I can’t believe we’re gonna have a baby” he breathed placing a kiss on your head causing you to smile. You didn’t care if Bella didn’t like you because you had Charlie and now a baby and that’s everything you needed.

#x reader #reader insert #charlie swan x reader #twilight x reader #Bella swan x reader #Charlie swan #Charlie swan x wife reader #x wife reader #Charlie swan x younger reader

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lassieposting · 7 months

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Things that make me wheeze in mass effect 3: that one sidequest where you convince the Eclipse second-in-command to enact a coup so you don't have to let his insane boss out of jail

And when you find him

He's here

Garrus is

Public enemy #1 to the Omega criminal gangs

Responsible for so much sabotage and so many high-profile assassinations that six months ago-ish(!) the three gangs teamed up to kill him, which was unprecedented

A wanted man, despite the rumours that he died in the attack - the Shadow Broker confirms that there's still an unclaimed bounty on Archangel's head

Wearing the Archangel insignia on his fucking armour

This little salarian dude (with his security thugs!) is either the least observant person in the galaxy, or he's so shit-scared of Archangel that he's not even going to try and pick that fight. And he doesn't want Archangel to notice him and pick a fight, either. So him and his guys are just hanging out without their Eclipse armour on like

#mass effect #mass effect meta #garrus vakarian

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kaijuupoinsettia · 6 months

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Oh the undying love of the sun for the moon~! Let them kiss!

Let them make an eclipse!

Kings of the Kingdom of Artemea and the Red Kingdom Aela

Render inspired by Love and War by @callsign-bunnie on A03 and here (I couldn't stop thinking about the idea of them wearing battle armours, and the aesthetic of the story and AU, I love it so much!)

╰(⸝⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝⸝)╯

#alejandro x rodolfo #alerudy #alejandro vargas #rodolfo parra #modern warfare ii #cod mwii #mwii fanart #digital render

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netegf · 1 year

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inside

pairing: ao'nung x reader

For a hunter, driving spears through fish bothered Ao’nung more than it should have. It was something about the piercing of skin, the quick flush of pink-stained waters that too callously left no trace. The action of it – cutting through the body – violating the sanctity of in and out.

Today, he made a promise to say the words explicitly. Your two feet dance in the reef’s low tide before submerging completely. No hesitation, just numbingly cold waters straight up to the thigh. The feeling of his hot hand tightly woven in yours made you feel that way – lending the power to jump in headfirst like a dare he gives, but is too scared to take. Ao’nung tightens his grip and nervously makes a call for his ilu.

“Let me guess." You puff out your chest like a boy from long ago once did. "‘If I want to live here, I have to ride’.”

His lips loosen at the jest because, frankly, his voice doesn’t sound like that - but more compelling is your cute laugh that bubbles through the ocean surface. He sucks his teeth, shakes his head like he regrets tugging you by the fingertips out of your marui pod a few moments after eclipse – he knows he doesn’t – and finally lets his eyes give you a warm once-over. “Eywa, you are aggravating.”

If it's a lie, that's for him to know. Though, if the devilish grin you wield like a weapon is any indication, then something tells him his walls never stood a chance. To that so-nourishing ground that willed water to move when it shifted, his armour was so breakable. You were made to seep through it.

“Try it,” he murmurs, shoving his spear into your palm. “Like I taught you.”

Shakily, you take the tool and bend forward into the water. Ao’nung’s arms quickly wind around your waist, keeping you steady, grounded. You make a sudden thrust of the weapon that impales into nothing and feel droplets of water smack emptily against your face.

“Fuck, that was bad." When the chuckle escapes his lips, Ao’nung winces. He hadn’t meant for it to sound so harsh, but it did, and it always seemed to.

You narrow your eyes. Irritated, he can feel it. But the water licks where it stings, fish swim together in rhythmic circles, and his laugh is pretty.

“Watch it, fish boy. I taught you that word.”

He bites his lip. The water is no longer hot, and fish tickle at his feet. “Did I use it right?”

“Yes, teacher’s pet, you’re the perfect student,” you roll your eyes. Grumbling then, “apparently, only when it comes to bad things.”

Pinching at your hips, his hands spin your body around so that your chest heaves for his eyes to see. He places a chaste kiss on your collarbone. Looking up to meet your eye-line, he reasons, “you only teach me bad things.”

“Yeah? Well, they suit you.” A playful bite to the hook he threw first, but something about those words makes Ao’nung ache on the inside. Suddenly, he jolts and lets his hands rest at your back, your body falling until it teasingly hovers just a few inches above the water.

“Do they?” His lips turn all the way up. Eyes twinkling at the precariousness of your position and your pretty face of shock an unintended bonus. He plays the game – makes the empty threat of dropping you. “Think carefully.”

Seconds later, laughter explodes from both of you. Vibrating against the water as your fists come up to slam against his chest and squeals of ‘they don’t! they don’t!’ sloppily soothe Ao’nung’s anxiety. He pulls you up and your hands cup tenderly at his soft cheeks.

“Say something nice.” You whisper. Ao’nung feels dizzy from the warmth in your stare. His casts his eyes down, not wanting to be seen. Not knowing how to release the words that are stuck in his throat. The truth that scratches. The sickening vulnerability of insides clawing their way out. He is hiding, his forehead pinches, and you notice it.

“What’s on your mind, pretty boy?” Eyes closed, he leans into your touch. Then he brings his hand behind your neck, gently pushes until your head rests against his hard chest, and all you can hear is his heartbeat hammer, hammer, hammer. You trace the pretty ‘X’ of his sternum.

“Nothing. Just you.”

Perhaps for too long, the two of you sway together in the water. When the coolness of it sinks back to your ankles, Ao’nung’s spear is back in your hand, and there is a certain clarity in the way he keeps you cradled inside his arms.

It is in the pearls he keeps in his pockets for your collection. In the meatiest bites of fish that he leaves to the side for you to eat later. In the warmth of his body ghosting yours when you finally catch a fish - in the way he taught you - spear right through the inside.

It is his love, inextricably. The action of it. Inside everything.

reblogs/tags are appreciated <333

#ao'nung x reader #aonung x reader #ao'nung #aonung #atwow #avatar 2 #calling ao pretty boy... check #i fear.. this makes no sense

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8um8le · 1 year

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How do the boys interact with Eclipse now and is there a height difference? Still simping hard cyberpunk au is straight wizard and cyberpunk Eclipse in a suit???? Make me straight feral

Despite Eclipse being a CEO of a weapon company, and higher authority in the ring that designs not only weapons but armour too; the boys treat him like a buddy now-a days 😂, He’s like the Edna (from Incredibles) of this au. They even know where he lives, and is sometimes invited in his home. Eclipse unintentionally became almost like a father for these two, especially since he designed two phases of their bodies (current and previous ones), also they were born with solar-inspired designs which is like they were made to meet him ☀️🌙 so he couldn’t help but grow a attachment to these two.

#cyberpunk #he still acts like a complete jackass though 💀#crabby daddy type of vibes u know

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lilibethwrites · 9 months

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A Midsummer Night’s Pain

Aegon II Targaryen x Wife!Reader

Warnings: Spoilers for Rook’s Rest, NSFW (smut)

Word count: 5876

Ao3 & Masterlist

Aegon returns from Rook’s Rest with severe injuries, and your lives change forever. While he is haunted by aches that would put a lesser man to the ground, you are at your wit’s end with his stubborn refusal of help. A sleepless night of slowly healing burns and bones leads you both to introspection and confrontation. Heated exchanges, frustrated sighs, and hungry kisses restore your belief in the strength of your bond built on devotion and love.

Aegon was no stranger to sleepless nights. Anger, frustration, the immutable urge to suppress all parts of him until he was stripped down to bare flesh and bones and the basest of urges as he got so masterfully lost in the dark, narrow streets of Flea Bottom among a sea of drunkards swaying side to side… If one didn’t know any better, one would assume the dark hours of the night, the hour of the ghost or the nightingale or the wolf were all dedicated to him, that he was the ghost that haunted the stone halls of the Red Keep, the nightingale that sang with a few tankards of Flea Bottom ale or better in his belly, the wolf that bared his teeth as good as any Stark should the occasion necessitate it.

Then, Flea Bottom was stolen from him, and then, so was his flesh. His brother had traded an eye for a dragon, though no one, no one at all could say if he meant his words or if he were too muddied of the mind on the Milk of the Poppy—he was fed about the same amount as a grown man would be— to make sense when he found the exchange fair. Aegon, however, was painfully sober and himself when he was made to trade his home a bit far from home for a crown which once sat on the forehead of his namesake. Aegon certainly did not wish to take his golden boy to the skies for bloodshed and pain. In fact, he always, though quietly, maintained that Sunfyre was a masterpiece fallen from Seven Heavens. Too exquisite, too regal, too graceful, too beautiful to be a tool of war; no, Sunfyre wasn’t designed for tragedy, it suited him ill.

But curiously, while all else slipped from his fingers, you remained. You’ve been a friend, loyal and patient when Aegon knew any better than to fall to his knees and worship you, then, a lover, passionate and steadfast even when Aegon was difficult to love even to the flesh that breathed life into him. So, when Aegon had left with a finger under your chin, with his lips on yours, with an ornate armour fit for a king, with a rich velvet cloak cascading down his shoulder, you remained hopeful. Perhaps for the first time, you brought your palms together and turned your eyes to the sky, beyond the clouds where Aegon and Sunfyre eclipsed the beauty of the sun itself to vanquish the enemy, to the Gods. You prayed, you begged to have your husband back.

“I would be a cripple otherwise”, you had petitioned. “He is half me, I am half him. He is the heart of my heart.”

Gods had listened, but Gods also delighted in mischief and trickery at the expense of good, undeserving souls. Aegon was brought back to you upon loyal shoulders, unconscious and beyond recognisable with the dark red of his drying blood and the ugly brown of earth caked in his hair, on his face, on what flesh was revealed from his armour.

Grand Maester Orwyle suggested it was better you did not look. He reasoned it was a sight too ghastly for the fairer sex to behold.

“He is my husband, for the Seven’s sakes!” You threw decorum out the window when you grabbed the long chain snaked around the Maester’s neck.

“You will allow me in. Your queen demands it.”

The man had no choice but to bow his head, to step aside so you would enter the solar repurposed as a second office for the Maesters with a grandiose bed pushed to the end of it, concealed with the heavy drapes of the canopy pulled—what dignity was there for Aegon to preserve? Has he ever had it, anyway? Hasn’t he always been the odd one out, the one disowned at the drop of a hat, over and over again? Nothing precious about him, nothing noteworthy, nothing of value was lost. That has always been his belief; that has always been what he was led to believe.

“The only time my mother touched me was when she struck me in the face. Even then, I imagine, her breakfast must have heaved in her stomach… She looks upon me as she would a rat caught between the walls,” he’d once confessed over warm, watered-down wine of a Flea Bottom wine sink he’d taken you to.

“I love you. I desire to love you to the end. I desire to show you that I love you. I do not know how. I was never given it…” His plush lips had twisted into a lopsided smirk, acidic and self-loathing. It must have been him, he always thought. His mother was capable of showing love otherwise. She gave love to a man rotting on his feet, who only ever took her so he would put babes in her womb—and then forget about them and venerate the one he already had. His mother showered Helaena with love, his mother worshipped Aemond after her daily prayer to the Seven, and she never once stopped admiring Daeron even if all he did was pack up and leave. Aegon was left to seek love elsewhere, pitiful bits at a time. That was, until you came along.

“I fear I will make a mess of it. I muck everything up,” he had sniffled—then, wiped his cheeks on the back of his hand, blinked, and returned to the man unbothered by all, like the scales of a dragon deflecting Scorpion bolts.

But you knew, oh, you’ve always known. There were cuts within him that never ceased bleeding. The superficial ones were easily remedied with drinks and gathering up of your skirts and the loosening of your bodice. But those? Those needed precious care, all the patience in the world, and a stream of love to rival the supposed stream of Arbor Red that runs across Seven Hells, as Aegon alleged.

“Tis makes little sense. Why would wine run from a stream? And why in Hells, and not in Heavens?” You’d inquired once.

He’d shrugged. His brows furrowed in mock disappointment as if you’d failed to grasp a point so explicitly made.

“So I can enjoy it, of course. How am I to do so if it runs in Heavens?”

Even the most optimistic of his men shared in hushed whispers their doubts that the king would ever awaken. Some urged that his brother be named Prince Regent at once and overtake the matters of the Realm presently. Some found it treacherous, and what would become of you?

You were about as concerned with anything beyond the body lying limp on the bed as the brass candelabra that sat beside it. You broke your fast and took your supper beside Aegon, you bathed and read beside him. You curled up to his body and gave your ear to the slow thumping of his heart at nights.

Aegon got worse before he got better. He came down with the fever, and though Grand Maester reassured you it was a testament to the glorious resilience of the constitution of our king, you were a revenant floating up and down the chamber until his flesh ceased burning from the inside.

Then, unceremoniously, he awoke.

His throat was dry, his voice unused. The usual velvety quality was subjugated to raspiness.

“I mucked it up… again,” I told you I would, he meant to continue, but his tongue felt too heavy.

Your back was turned to him, your eyes set upon the silhouette of the Street of Silk with its pillow houses growing taller by the day, your nails digging into your palms as if the pain you’ve inflicted upon yourself would miraculously shave off the affliction your beloved husband was no wonder subjected to.

You flinched. You’ve never quite lost hope, but perhaps, deep down, the reunion you often thought of was one where you would join Aegon, not the one where he would return to you.

You were on him, and Aegon did not make a sound of pain lest your arms abandoned him. How was it that you were glad and not ashamed to see him? He had expected you to call him over the coals. What sort of man was he anyway, defeated by a single rider with his brother in the sky with him? What sort of king was he anyway, that he failed the one thing any dragon rider would have accomplished as easily as pulling a hair out of butter?

But you drowned him in kisses and praises bordered on adulation instead. Aegon soon found he strongly preferred your gentle touches and generous flattery to any medicine the Maester could concoct.

The burns began to scab over soon after, though the pain remained. He would have accepted it easier if it was constant, but instead, it elected to come at odd hours and inconvenient times, striking out of nowhere like a snake coiled in the bushes of the gardens below his window.

Thereafter, Aegon was once again no stranger to waking up in the hour of the ghosts, with salty sweat burning his deep-set eyes and a sharp, burning pain splitting him open from head to heart like a Valyrian sword. He’d often stay up, though against his wishes this time, stirring and clutching the sheets or the pillows and biting down on his plump lips until teeth tore skin and blood prickled, until the hour of the owl or the nightingale—he’d often lose track—gave way to dawn.

It was one such night when you awoke, or rather, you were awakened by Aegon’s stirring and grunting, controlled despite the overwhelming agony lest he woke you from your deep slumber. You’ve been the one constant thing of comfort in his life since the moment your fingers intertwined with his. He held your hands like a rider would the reigns of his dragon for fear that he would slip from the saddle and perish, and he intended to only let go to be burned to ashes, stuffed in an urn. No matter the pain, the frustration, the anger, he would behold you and be swiftly reminded that there was at least one good thing in the world still, and so the sun would have a reason to rise for another day. But even the most ardent, noblest love had its limits in the face of nearly-intolerable pain.

You turned with your heavy eyelids, almost out of reflex, as you often did in your sleep when your bodies separated too far apart for your liking. You hummed with a hand searching for his face, starting at his damp chest and moving up. It was a humid day, an even less bearable eve, and a torturous night that made you sweat as you remained motionless, sticking the soft, silk chemise to your flesh.

Aegon inhaled a sharp breath, steeled himself, and his slender fingers wrapped around your wrist, bringing it to his lips.

“Nightmare?” You asked. He has been plagued by them all his life. They were few and in-between back then, back when wine could dull them. They became sharper with the weight of the hefty crown on his head. They came in spades with unyielding force until he jumped from the bed and leaned so dangerously low on the stone guards of his balcony to burn his lungs with the night air.

“No,” he whispered, shuddering and panting.

You knew, then. In fact, you’ve known the moment you awoke, yet, you wished to be wrong.

His aches got worse whenever he clenched his teeth all day or in his sleep, and he did so when his stress climbed and overtook ration. Anger often superseded all other senses then, and you often assumed this crippling pain was a defence mechanism instilled by nature within Aegon. It hurt him, yes; seeing him hurt also pained you gravely. But, it was a blessing, it stayed Aegon’s hand from greater destruction. At least, that has been your weak miseration, except, pains often crept upon your husband in the dead of the night, like a cowardly enemy hiding behind the walls.

“Oh,” you mumbled softly, half with the devotion of a wife falling for her husband more and more each day, and the care of a mother who would feel twice the pain her babe suffered.

“I should summon the Maester, have him prepare some—”

“Please, no need, love. I—I shall be better, soon… Just… sleep it off,” Aegon attempted to halt you, speaking through gritted teeth on the verge of shattering.

If there was ever a soul to match Aegon’s unyielding obstinacy, it was you and your indomitable mulishness. Aegon admitted so, when he kneeled before you and presented you with a newly minted ring impressed with the three-headed dragon of his family, asking for your hand in marriage. It was a jarring sight, the crown prince, the reluctant, forgotten heir under a moth-bitten cloak, brandishing a golden ring so expensive it could buy the entirety of the Bottom and still demand a few silver stags in change. He would not have imprinted the ring with the heraldry of his family, the one that so trenchantly refused him, if he didn’t so ardently wish to do his proposal properly. You deserved nothing less. You were not some pillow wench or a widow, wed to be bred or fill the diminishing coffers.

“Tis no pain you can sleep off.”

It was not a bargain he would win. You rolled out of the bed to stick your head out of the door, to ask Ser Criston if he would be so kind as to have Grand Maester Orwyle prepare something for the pain. That was all you needed to relay. The pain only meant one thing, the kind that would’ve put a lesser man in an early grave; not a simple headache or upset stomach, but the pain to dwarf all pains.

Before long, an ornate silver platter was delivered to you. Upon it was a delicate vial with translucent liquid, and a teapot with matching painted china from Lannisport.

First, you poured the content of the vial on a cotton cloth, and sat beside Aegon on the edge of the bed.

His pale cheeks were reddened with the pain that had him clenching and whimpering. His eyes, usually big and bright and oh-so-mischievous, were squinted in exhaustion, forming deep lines between his brows.

“You should not suffer it alone. You gave me your word you would not anymore,” you whispered, dabbing the cloth on the scabs of his burns, tracing the angry-red-turning-brown from his cheek to his chest.

It stung at first, and Aegon gasped, closing his eyes and flinching away before he could catch himself. He balled his hand into a fist after that, and braved the pain in pursuit of relief. Truth be told, your presence alone was more relief than any medicine of the Citadel, even when he was nearly certain the pain would blind him.

“You looked—you looked serene, bathed in the moonlight. Could not—could not dare disturb your slumber.” His voice was low and gravelly despite the grandiose artistry of a pompous bard he attempted to invoke. The corners of his lips twitched up into a faint smile before turning upside down with the pain a gesture as small as that caused.

“I shall not be swayed by honeyed words, Aegon,” you attempted to be stern, but you knew you were swayed already. He did, too.

“It passes, love. It always does. Just—just a matter of… patience.”

Then, when his head lulled on the pillow so he could look at you better; in the pale moonlight, you saw the tears that stained his eyes. The pain was only half the reason for them. Aegon was ashamed to be a burden to you, his lover, that he must protect and provide for as any man with a sliver of chivalry should, not lay in a bed halfway paralyzed. Useless. A burden. An inconvenience. Dependent on the charity of his wife.

You brushed short, choppy strands of silver that stuck to his damp forehead and cheeks away, and passed your hand over his head until he leaned into your touch.

“We are a soul split in half,” he once told you, drunk enough to be brave but sober enough to mean every word. He was right. You were privy to the thoughts galloping in his mind.

“Will you ever understand it to be an insult that you would flee from my care? I wish to care for you.”

Aegon’s response was averting his eyes and inhaling a deep breath. His burnt hand, on the mend but likely to never regain its motion in entirety, stiffly patted your thigh and remained resting there.

“Milk, then?”

The offer was in vain. Once Aegon awoke, he trenchantly refused to be dulled. However maddening the pain might be, he desired to tough it out—sober. There were times his boyish mulishness was endearing, but this wasn’t one of them. You struggled to understand how it would serve him to be crushed under pain unnecessarily when the remedy awaited him in the pot. You were growing impatient with witnessing Aegon’s suffering helplessly.

“Why must you be so bloody-minded, huh? If this is your twisted idea for self-flagellation, cease it! Whatever imagined failure you punish yourself for does not exist! Whatever perceived shortcoming you may think you have exhibited is a delusion! What does this help? This—this violent suffering in absolute vain?!”

You rose from the edge of the bed, pacing towards the table with the intent of smashing the pot to bits against the wall. Aegon was torturously reticent at times when he doubted the outcomes of speaking his mind.

“Nothing!” You spoke, or rather, yelled on his behalf. “Accomplishes nought but further torment!”

“I was kept on—on Gods know what when I should have been awake!” Aegon raised his own voice then.

It was a strong mixture of Sweetsleep and the Milk of the Poppy dissolved in alcohol. The Maesters didn’t want to leave his rest to chance. For a good reason, too, as Aegon grew restless the moment he could move his limbs once again.

“I have failed you—you all.” Without his mother to deliver the punishment to his cheek in the form of slaps or his arms in the form of mean pinches that bruised without fail, he had to take the matter into his own hands.

“You do not even hear me, do you?” You mumbled, hunched on a chair by the table. “I am simply speaking to the walls… you shall believe what you will no matter what.”

Perhaps it would have pained Aegon less if you kicked up a storm, and turned the chamber upside down until nothing but broken and shattered bits of furniture and glass and torn tapestries remained. But to hear the helpless defeat in your voice instead? The low but unmistakable tinge of exhausted despair entered his ears and trailed down his throat as if he swallowed melted iron hot from a blacksmith’s forge.

He let the silence hang above your heads like the scythe of the Stranger for a moment or two that dragged on endlessly, then, he broke it himself. Though that time, his own words came out choked and quiet.

“You should not have wed me,” he murmured, half in shame and half in agony. “My brother… perhaps half a man in soul and half a petrified gargoyle, but intact in flesh… somewhat. Hah,” Funny how things turned out. Perhaps he deserved this not for the lecherous revelries but for being a passed-out drunk on the steps of Driftmark when his brother was robbed of an eye. “Would’ve served you better all the same.”

“What nonsense,” you scoffed. His words deserved a harsher response, perhaps, but the notion was so ridiculous to you that all you could do was shake your head in incredulity. “Surely you do not mean it?” Surely, he wishes for a reaction, to elicit a rise from you.

“Look at me… what good am I to you in this state? A broken man, through and thorough.” Growing bitter by the day, too.

“You know I would prefer the worst of you to the best of anyone else. Anyone… you know it, Aegon.”

You approached the bed again under Aegon’s alert gaze. His pale eyes caught the light of the candles; you always thought a bit of Sunfyre was in him.

“I was not under the naïve assumption that it would be easy when I fell for you.” Your hand reached for his, kissing his knuckles one by one before enveloping it in case he withdrew. “You asked me once if I loved the idea of you. Do you not remember what I said?”

Aegon looked down with a wistful smile, then, dragged his gaze back to your face.

“You told me… that whatever I may be, or become, would eclipse what you could ever conjure up.”

“You did not believe me then, and you certainly do not believe me now.” There was no bite to your words; what little anger rose in your chest was short-lived. You’ve always found it rather difficult to stay mad at Aegon for long. You brought his hand to your cheek and pressed a kiss on his palm.

“I thought you were mad for it. Twas no easy promise, not when it is me you dedicate—”

The finger on his lips caught Aegon off-guard, and your soft lips upon his parched ones that followed were always welcome—in fact, they were desperately needed above air and sustenance.

Your hands cupped his face; his cheeks were full again, though the colour hadn’t returned in full yet. The tip of your nose touched his, and Aegon leaned in to press another kiss to your lips. It was chaste, close-mouthed, like a seal to a missive.

“I love you,” you whispered against his lips. A hand trailed down to his neck, and another rested on the back of his head, your fingers found their home in his dishevelled hair.

“I love all of you, down to your very essence. I do not care what the Realm thinks of you. I do not care what you think of yourself. I know you, and I love you.”

Your lips moved up, planting a kiss on the space between his nose and lips where light hair began to tickle—he was due for a shave— another to his cheek, then another to his jaw, and one more to the dimple in his chin.

“I love the sound of you, I love the scent of you, I love the feel of you...”

Aegon drew a deep, shaky breath when your lips moved further down to his neck, then, to his bare chest. His chest began to heave and fall quicker under your lips, blood began to rush down to his breeches. Just like that, so easily, you have worked your magic. A quiet spell fell from your lips, and Aegon snapped out of his self-pity. Well, partially. The Aegon that he was almost getting comfortable with being, the one who hadn’t resented the crown all that terribly anymore, the Aegon that had almost returned to his suave, younger self, would have flipped you on your back by now, hiked your chemise up to your waist and undone the ribbons that held your stockings to your thighs with his teeth, as he often loved to do so to the music of your giggles and gasps. That man would have buried his face between your legs already, but, this man was unsure if he could even please you with his fingers anymore.

“Nothing has changed. You have not changed. You feel the same, you taste the same. No one will ever hope to compare,” you whispered against his warm skin, right above the waist of his breeches where a light patch of hair disappeared into and the wet trail of your kisses concluded.

Aegon was semi-erect when you palmed him through the rough fabric of his trousers. You’d done this more times than even the Maesters could count, and some said they knew infinite numbers. Yet, this time you couldn’t roughly pull at the laces and tug his member until his hips quivered and rose from the mattress to hit the back of your throat, to feel the contraction, to see your eyes widen. No, with shattered bones and scorched flesh, you needed to be cautious in the ways you’ve demonstrated your love.

You licked your lips as Aegon peered at you intently. A hot palm with cold fingers slipped down Aegon’s trousers and gripped his length, and he shivered with anticipation. How long has it been anyway? Felt like a few lifetimes to him.

You began by stroking him, then, pulled the waistband down around his thighs, and wrapped your lips around the reddened, crown of his cock. Aegon attempted to push himself deeper, but yielded with a whimper. Your head bobbed to the rhythm of your lover’s moans and muffled praises bleeding into curses, picking up the pace as his panting grew quicker. A hand wrapped around the base of his shaft intent on pushing Aegon to the very peak with touches to his heavy stones, while another ghosted fingers across his abdomen. He laced his fingers in your hair in response, neither pushing nor pulling, simply savouring the privilege of getting to feel you—any part of you—on his fingertips again. He’d realized there was much he’d taken for granted with you, high on the vapours of confidence that he would not be parted from you so untimely and unexpectedly.

“Love, not—Gods! Not long, now,” he rasped. His better leg began to twitch and bounce, and his manhood in your mouth throbbed with each hollowing of your cheeks. His heart thumped erratically, he was certain you could hear it down between his legs with loud it was. Sweat beaded at his forehead and rolled from his hairline to his neck. Aegon almost always sounded as if he were about to weep when he was brought close to his release. “’Tis only you,” he’d told you once as he’d embraced you on a mattress stuffed with straw in a rented tavern room, “who has ever managed this—to reduce me to a whining fool. Cross my heart.”

The pit of Aegon’s stomach churned and a brief but nothing less than torridly intense shiver rippled through him. Though he would have gladly traded all his limbs—for what value they held now—to release inside your walls and watch his seed leak out of you, he couldn’t be a choosing beggar until he could cage you under his body again. So, he spilt himself in your mouth, and for a moment, before he began to come down, the entire world consisted of the warmth of your mouth and the throbbing of his cock.

It would take the Seven Realms twice over to truly break the spirit this man, your Aegon. You’ve never once doubted it, and he proved you right when his lips quirked into an impish smirk as soon as his breathing began to settle down to a more even beat, and he watched you with dark eyes as you swallowed his load and wiped the drool off your chin.

“Gods, sometimes I question if I took a Street of Silk whore for a wife,” he teased, though his joke was laced with lust and his voice was husky. He left your hair to caress your cheek, then, reached for your hand to pull you up and closer to him.

“As if they’d wed you,” you snorted.

With a hand in your hand, and the burnt one on your hip, Aegon was persistent in pulling you up to himself. It wasn’t so much the climbing him you feared, but the warm dampness between your legs threatened to take the reins until you found yourself seated on his hips, grinding with unprecedented urgency. But neither of you was quite known for your cautious ways, so you found a place to rest right above Aegon’s waist where the burns healed the quickest and the bruised to his ribs faded. With the salty aftertaste of him on your tongue and fatigue beginning to settle, you were ready to cuddle into his good side and slumber for whatever short time you could until dawn broke. Yet, Aegon had different plans altogether. He's never been a man to remain beholden to someone, especially in matters of pleasure.

So, his fingers snuck under your shift and found your heat like liquid mercury to a magnet. It wasn’t the easiest to pleasure you like this, not when he was spoiled with being used to spreading your legs and pumping his fingers faster each time you whined and attempted to squeeze your thighs together to resist the climax he was beckoning. If you had devised this intricate plan to have him willingly submit to the Maesters, so he would heal as swiftly as his flesh allowed, so he would once again bury himself deep inside you, Aegon would have to admit you have succeeded.

“C’mere, luv” he tapped on the side of your thigh, coaxing you to move up and up until you were nearly seated on his chest.

“C’mere, I said,” he feigned annoyance at your reluctance. But it wasn’t so much reluctance as it was confusion. You’d only assumed he wanted you closer so he would get a better look at your glistening cunt, or reach your slit better. So, Aegon had to meet you halfway. With his fingers digging into your bare ass, he slouched with the urgency you wouldn’t have thought his body was capable yet, and he pulled you to his face.

You gasped his name and held onto the ornate headboard lest you truly sat on his face and gave him another part to ache. You could feel his warm breath on your dampness, and his lips soon began to drag across the sensitive flesh.

“Do not hover, darlin’, sit. Fear not, you shall do me no harm. I’ve survived worse, I assure you that my wife’s cunt will only do me good.”

His fingers dug deeper into the tender flesh of your ass, he pulled you down on himself until you could feel the stubble around his lips and chin on you. He gave you a torturously long and slow, flat-tongued lick across your slit and groaned into your warmth. It was mostly muffled when he proclaimed with lust that he “could dine on you forever.”

Your swollen, sensitive nub was flicked by his nose with each forward thrust of his face to bury his pointed tongue deeper inside you hungrily and to devour you better. The mewls and moans of his name from your lips and your taste on his tongue drove Aegon nearly into madness. He wasn’t sure he could feel pain even if someone took a hacksaw to his legs.

As Aegon alternated between fucking you with his tongue and swirling his tongue over your slit to collect your slick greedily, your skin heated up and your face grew so hot you suspected your cheeks might catch fire and burn down to sinew. Despite the white-knuckled grip on the headboard, you began to buck your hips into his mouth.

The more Aegon groaned into your cunt and frantically lapped at you, the more you took the name of the Seven in vain, jolted and arched your back with each slight contact of his teeth or a rough brush of his stubble whenever he turned his head to gasp for air. Aegon went on as if he could tirelessly to the ends of days, but your muscles began to tighten and your walls fluttered. Aegon’s hands on your hips stilled you from jerking involuntarily; he did deserve to savour your release after the hard work he’s put in, after all.

Soon, you were crying out Aegon’s name in ecstasy, hips stuttering while you writhed on his face, sinking your fingers into his hair to pull his head back and away from your cunt to no avail. Slick ran down his chin, and you slumped over with breath hitching and knees weakened by how your limbs cramped and quivered. Though you were prudent enough to lift yourself off of him and roll to the side, Aegon wouldn’t have minded if you decided to remain perched on his face for the rest of the night.

The chamber was heavy with the unmistakable, musky smell of sweat and sex despite the windows. You both laid with on your backs, panting and chests heaving for a moment. You supposed you might have stumbled if you left the bed now; weak knees and dizzy head hardly made a good combination. A cup of wine shared between your lips and his would’ve served well now, but Aegon’s hand splayed on your warm belly, and he guided you to his side instead.

“Stay,” he purred, and you did.

You buried your face against his throat, and he whispered sweet nothings into your hair, inhaling your scent. His hand moved to your back, rubbing comforting circles and tracing patterns you couldn’t quite figure out. Your breath on his neck tickled him ever so slightly, you’ve always known it, but you’ve always enjoyed the stifled chuckles too much to stop. In fact, Aegon wouldn’t have let you if you tried.

Nothing needed to be said, the silence was intimate and comfortably shared. Aegon preferred it this way; he could never quite do justice to his feelings with words, they often failed him. I love you in Common Tongue wasn’t enough, avy jorrāelan in High Valyrian never sounded right, but to serve you until you moaned loud enough to wake the Red Keep has always felt right. Look how much I’ve grown to learn you, look how I know you like no one else, look how I’ll toil between your legs until my last breath just to see that exhausted, sheepish smile on your face, look how I’ll defy my own nature if I must to hear my name fall from your lips just once more. It felt right to you, too. You’ve seen Aegon at his most vulnerable, you touched his hair as he wept on your lap, you fought over insignificant things that always ended with shattered vases and broken goblets and your bodies tangled like the stems of summer daisies, you’ve seen too much of his love to need to hear the words anymore. They were sorely paled in comparison to this silence that you shared. And tonight, Aegon has felt better than he has in a long while; the damage to his pride healed by your gentle hands and his mind was taken off self-pity that brewed and festered.

The Maesters might have saved Aegon’s flesh, but he was certain, as you drifted off and his eyes trailed off to the starless night beyond his window, that you have saved his spirit.

I have a permanent Aemond tag list, but let me know if you'd like to be tagged for any future Aegon II fics. For now, only tagging @aegonx

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen ii x reader #aegon ii x reader #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #hotd #taps the mic ello babes ive returned from the war #to indulge in eggon no less

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head-of-the-science-directorate · 2 months

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the fates of the primordials

despite what they would tell you, there are only 5 "primordials" and they existed in a universe much different to the stories they tell.

in truth, the primordials lived in a universe not unlike your own, apart from their development of "super powers" of course. and while I would tell you of their exploits with those powers, I think you'll find their ultimate fates too be much more interesting.

during an event known as the oblivion eclipse (which I will add a book on to my library in due tome) the primordials would fight against a near endless enemy, with 5 of them having to sacrifice themselves to succeed. below I have detailed their fates.

Signis and Brennis

the masters of fire and stability, Signis and Brennis would sacrifice themselves fighting the oblivion lord, literally punching him back to hell, and allowing themselves to die in the process. may these two heroes memories be ever commemorated in my library.

Daemos

fighting alongside crow against one of the oblivion lords eclipse towers, which would create an infinite army unless destroyed, Daemos willingly sacrificed themself, actively using their powers too pull themselves, the oblivion monsters and the tower, in to the shadow realm, where they would all die.

Aquis

Fighting alongside Aldira against another eclipse tower, Aquis would make the ultimate sacrifice, feeding herself to her pet sea beast Jormungandr so it may, for a few seconds. reach its strongest form, consuming the eclipse tower and oblivion beasts, before sinking to the bottom of the ocean.

Deltan

fighting alongside their boyfriend Hallowed, deltan would realise the eclipse towers vulnerability to electricity, and therefore channel nearly all of their energy, including their life force. into a powerful blast that didn't just take out the eclipse tower, but disintegrate it.

in a rare subversion of their fate though, Deltan would live on in the bio-electricity of their lover Hallowed.

Hallowed

in their fight against the oblivion beasts, hallowed would lose their right arm to one of these beasts, and would continue fighting on with only their left, slaughtering scores of beasts until the battle was over.

in the ensuing time after these battles, Hallowed would gain both a cybernetic replacement arm, and a hefty fortune, worth millions of dollars.

Antros

While fighting oblivion beasts, Antros would be torn apart by one beast, only to find that they lived on. fighting through the army, Antros would eventually realise his true nature. the living embodiment of fear, Antros can take on any form they wish, and summon scores of nightmare beasts to help them.

in the time after the oblivion eclipse, Antros would go on to brutaly punish numerous evildoers as a brutal vigilante with control over fear itself.

Aldira

the bloody queen, Aldira would be there to witness Aquis' sacrifice, and would in that fight, finally realise her purpose, too end the lives of those that would threaten the innocent. at this revelation, the armour that had tormented her fell off, and her bloody rage was re-ignited.

in the time after this, Aldira would channel this blood rage into an art, perfectly manipulating her and others blood with an impossible level of finesse and skill.

Crow

Crow would sadly witness her friend Daemos' sacrifice and from that would be changed.

after the battle they would sob for hours on a cliff side, inconsolable over losing his friend. but eventually, something happened. touched by some unknown force, Crow would go on to become a protector of nature, gaining a complete control of both plants and animals.

Akronus

Akronus would be there to witness Signis and Brennis' sacrifice, and would suffer horrible mental break. before in a turn of events, they found god. well eldritch gods, but still. acting as the conduit for the magic power of four eldritch gods, Akronus would continue their work. just with a much finer control of their powers.

Closing notes

the entrepid of you will realise the problems with my writings, if AKronus is a master of magic, why do they only use sword, and If both crow and hallowed gained morals, how come they commit crimes now?

I can easily explain that. all 5 of them where heavily scarred by these events, and combining that with the death of their home reality, have blocked out a majority of these memories, which is why, like always. I bestow my readers with a request. to help these 5 heroes regain the memory of their fallen comrades and original power, if not for the greater good, but to respect the sacrifices their friends once made.

(@monsterfucker-research-wizard @good-wizard @f4y3w00d5 @drewp1 @gobodegoblin)

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ask-healthy-light · 3 months

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Although Frost was not sure whether the Lady of the Empire was talking about herself, or about Lord Shining, whom she and Spike had helped free from his duties as Captain of the Guard, she understood why it meant this much to Cadance to be with her beloved again; for while she knew that many of the beings under whom she served had Families to return to, she never realised how important they were.

When the sound of an overdramatic cry of anguish caught Frost's attention, she snapped around in an instant, only to find that Lord Shining was struggling to hold on to the Young Princesses, who were crawling all over him, tickling him awfully; but as soon as Shining felt his chair was toppling, he held Flurry and Twila close to his chest, and covered their heads as he took the brunt of the fall.

To Frost's relief, the Young Princesses were unharmed, as their infectious laughter swiftly started again, but she was more impressed to find that Lord Shining did not even groan in pain; for as soon as he landed, he started to heartily laugh as well, and loudly cried out that he was defeated, only to start tickling the Princesses in return, telling them that he would not go down without a fight.

At that moment, as her eyes started to well up with tears of joy as well, Cadance let go of Frost's claws, and happily trotted over to her overjoyed Family, before she sternly said in a joking manner that this was no way for Royalty to behave; but no sooner had she finished saying her sentence than Celestia and Luna started chuckling to themselves, catching Cadance off-guard for just long enough.

In the split second that Cadance was not looking at her Daughters and husband, Shining indiscreetly whispered to the Princesses that their Mum was distracted, and that now was the time to attack her; and the last thing Cadance saw was the strange sight of Flurry leaping into her arms, just as Twila conspicuously snuck around to tickle her Mother from behind, which made them all fall to the floor.

Fortunately, yet again, neither of the two Young Princesses was hurt, as Cadance managed to use her magic to keep Twila in the air just long enough to let her safely fall into her soft embrace, which inevitably led to her getting tickled even more; and the longer that her Daughters tickled her, the quieter their laughter grew, until the Royals were all laughing so hard that they had grown silent.

The ecstatic silence that fell in the Hall was only broken when one of the many present beings took a deep breath, only for them to continue laughing as well, which in turn made the rest of the group laugh even harder, and quieter, too; and while most were able to remain seated, everyone but Frost, including those who had fallen down, had grown very weak and teary from their neverending laughter.

But since the others were too focused on their breathing to keep themselves awake, being at serious risk of fainting due to their excessive laughter, they did not notice that Frost struggled to laugh more than a couple of quiet chuckles, before her expression soured; and to her dismay, the more she tried to express how joyous she was to see their incredible ecstasy, the worse she started to feel.

After she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, Frost tried to shift her focus from the energetic silence all around her to her lunch, and she continued eating, with seemingly no care in the world; but past her nigh blank-faced facade, Frost did not understand why she could not join the others in such a simple yet memorable time, and it pained her terribly to feel so contrarian to what she saw.

Not long after Frost finished eating the last of Spike and Stygian's baked goods, the others slowly climbed back into their seats, not noticing that Frost had completely missed out on their laughter; for as they cleaned their faces of their tears of joy, with bright smiles on their faces, Frost was wiping away her own tears, though these were no longer of joy, and her smile had sunk into a frown.

Before the others could ask her anything, Frost got up, and quietly told Spike and Eclipse:

"I will head to another Hall, while you recover from your ecstasy. I wish I felt it as well…"

(Thanks for reading! And if you enjoyed, please reblog! Thanks in advance!)

Send an ask or request! | Start at the beginning! | Next part!

Featuring: Solar Eclipse and Twilight Sparkle as Twilight Eclipse from @asktwilighteclipse

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crepes-suzette-373 · 8 days

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Sanji black fire theory

I know a lot of people already were talking about it, but because the theories I saw tend to associate it with some demonic epithet, I have been very hesitant to adopt it. The theory I have is that his max power would have a godly/holy name (my theory/explanation here), so I had been very reserved about the black fire thing.

I have now somewhat changed my mind about it.

It occurs to me that if the black fire is the manifestation of conqueror haki, it can still have a "holy" epithet. For example, Shanks's haki attack is called Kamusari 神避, or translated as "Divine Departure".

With that in mind I'm gonna revisit the "foxfire" idea I once mentioned, just with some slight tweaks.

"Foxfire" is kind of a fire ability that is not entirely explained. Back when Sanji said it in Thriller Bark, it was being portrayed as a joke. However, Kin'emon later uses "foxfire technique" that actually interacts with real fire. It produces fire, and also cuts fire.

Unless I missed something, I cannot find explicit description of what exactly makes the fire, but it seems to be implied to have been Haki ability. Once again, until proven otherwise, based on this I will assume that somehow Haki can generate fire.

In which case, it's not impossible that Sanji's "foxfire" joke can later manifest as a full-fledged fire ability that allows him to actually fly (like Ace).

In the same Thriller Bark context we already had a joke manifesting into reality. Remember that when Usopp told Sanji about Absalom, he just went completely berserk, and Zoro told Usopp to stop lest he "henshin into something"?

Well... further plot development shows that if Sanji get really angry, he can now indeed "henshin into something":

Some people have also theorised that the black fire will be related with the Germa modifications because of this, since the name "Stealth Black" implies that a successful modification would've made Sanji's hair black.

I somewhat agree with it, though I don't subscribe to the idea that Sanji's hair will turn black if he unlocks the ability to use black fire.

Going back to Kin'emon's fire ability. Assuming that it's indeed haki, then it means that he makes the fire by channelling the haki into his sword. In which case, maybe that was the same with Sanji, except that it's channelled through his leg and not through a tool or weapon.

It may be possible that if Sanji manifests advanced Conqueror Haki, which can be infused in body parts or weapons, his fire legs will be black flames. It would also match his already existing epithet, "Black Leg".

This also fits my theory about Sanji being symbolised by "solar eclipse" in relation to Kamen Rider. I may have to re-explain it based on the new material I have, but the short of it is: I see Sora as representing "sun", while Germa is "moon". Solar eclipse is a phenomenon where the sun and moon lines up.

The Kamen Rider connection is that Kamen Rider Black, whose name and powers symbolise solar eclipse, has all the body modifications given to him (including an exoskeleton armour) by the evil organisation. However, due to still having human heart, he uses all that power for good. I strongly feel that sensei used this particular character as Sanji's reference.

Therefore, I feel that this means that Sanji will use "both the sun and moon together", not see the "moon" as a hindrance. He will "redeem" the exoskeleton and other Germa modifications that he has. Someone somehow will fix it later so that it will not affect his ability to empathise and be kind, and he will combine the exoskeleton (Germa science) with Armament Haki and Conqueror Haki (Sora's influence) to use the black flames.

Why is Haki "Sora's influence"? Because as we've seen with the other brothers, not having fear of death means that they also don't have a particularly strong will to push themselves to the limit. They do have some fighting spirit still, but it doesn't seem to be enough.

Even if you argue that Perospero's candy is too strong to break, you don't see the Vinsmoke brothers bothering to even try. For example, until proven otherwise, Yonji's power was supposedly some kind of superstrength that is above Ichiji and Niji. Why is he talking about the weapons and not trying to break free?

Compare that to Luffy, who we know has very strong will, using all his power to try to pull himself free from the book pins that trapped him. Nami and Opera both told him it's no use, but he still tries anyway.

Haki is a power that comes from willpower. No strong will, no haki. Therefore, Sanji's ability to use haki is because of Sora's efforts to preserve his "heart".

Aside from the symbolism, we already saw that he needed to have the exoskeleton in order to use Ifrit Jambe. His normal body is not strong enough to withstand the heat. If black fire is even more powerful than Ifrit, he will need the exoskeleton even more than this.

It would be really cool if the flying foxfire joke manifests as black fire wings, really. It would be a close allusion to the Lunarians, without actually making him one.

My personal favourite guesses for the "godly/holy" names Sanji might use for his max power are: Acala (Fudou Myou'ou is a god connected to solar eclipse), Garuda (Lunarians resemble Garuda), Archangel (as a counter to Seraphim)

I'm sort of reserved about Garuda, honestly, because Sanji knows that was Judge's name. The clones were saying it when the two fought. Sanji might not want to use it as his own power name, because he hates Judge, and even "redeeming" the Germa ability for good usage might not erase his distaste for the name.

Still, maybe it will turn out that Garuda has a much deeper significance in One Piece lore. A personal favourite theory of mine is that Germa in the past is actually a force of good, and Sanji will be the one to "reclaim" that good past somehow. Maybe Garuda is related to that, and so if the good outweighs the awful stuff Germa has become, maybe he'll be okay with it.

Secondary guesses that are still cool, but not my personal preference: Draco/Dragon (due to yin yang symbolism), Vulcan (fire god), Surya (sun), Ignis/Agni (also fire).

A rather unlikely option, but it would be funny if it's true: "Erasmus". St Elmo's fire is sort of the Western version of foxfire, and "Elmo" is the shortened form of "Erasmus". Funny because then we can make Hellmo memes about it.

#one piece #analysis #germa 66 #vinsmoke family #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #theory

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toa-archive · 1 month

Text

Sites going down has been a routine theme of late so for something a smidge different, an article that's breaking. Previously on the Animation Magazine article you could see white boxes that you could click for the images but now uh.

Yeah it's pretty broken and the only way to access the 'missing' ones is through the source code. To save you faffing around with all of that, here they all are :) Figuring out the artist behind each has been an ongoing project thus not all pieces have been figured out at the time of typing.

Darklands environment

Rémi Salmon - L shape of art Simon Rogers - Top right

Darklands environment

Unknown artist - Top left pair Rustam Hasanov - Everything else apart from the circular area bottom left Unknown artist - Circular area

Eclipse Armour

Alfonso Blaas - Helmet, shield, glaives, Eclipse armour Yingjue Chen - Eclipse blade

Dictatious

Headless Studios

Gunmar - We do have a larger version of this image though for the purpose of this post the original has been uploaded.

Unknown artist - Top left Rustam Hasanov - All middle images and top right Headless Studios - Bottom left Unknown artist/seeking confirmation - Bottom right