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circeyoru · 1 month

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Collection of Overlords = Requested

[Alastor x Soul Owner of All Overlords!Reader]

The Request

Overlords. The sovereign rulers of various domains and areas of the Pride Ring. Sinners that rose to power through dealing with souls and troppling over the weak to show who’s the one in power and control. Together, they own millions of souls and representing the controlling powers of the city

Yet what sets them apart from the other demons in power? Why were they the sovereign rulers of their specialty and not another that claims or tries to threaten them so?

There’s a system, a power even beyond them combined and rival that of the King and Queen’s, that stablizes them. A supporting system, if you will, one that approves of the Overlords’ existence. As other rings have their Sin to impose power and their form of order, Pride has something similar. The founder of the Overlords and owner of their souls; the Collector

To call yourself an Overlord and rule over some form of territory, be it a street, a block, a town, a building complex, you have been approved by the Collector. No, one doesn’t seek the Collector out, the Collector seeks them out. It proves potential, it proves worth, and it proves attention-worthiness. All Overlords know who were the real one by the mark on their souls, a stamp of proof, that they’d take pride in

Rarely to none would the Collector gather Overlords together. So they make their own gatherings to keep track of any new members to their collection. There were times when some would fake their claim, they were viciously shredded where they lied. There was barely any proof, the mere aura and presence was enough to tell

All Overlords were the Collector’s prized souls, their worth to the Collector is shown when their mark remains intact as time goes by. Once the Collector deemed the Overlord as trash, they are let go and the other remaining Overlords will devour to keep the collection worthy

It’s the Overlords’ goal and duty to remain relevant and strive to be stronger. Not only to secure their title as an Overlord, but to also stay within the Collector’s elite collection

“Do you hereby swear your allegiance to me, the Collector, so long as you are in my favour? In return for entering my collection, you will be protected and secured of your authority and strive in your domain. Know that only I am able to throw you away and none other should you fall beyond my interest and favour.”

“I solemnly gage (I solemnly swear).”

“Yes, as you wish.”

“Why, absolutely, Darling!”

“F**k yes!”

“Of course, Dear.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Naturally.”

“Hell’s yes!”

Alastor felt it, his soul like a beating heart when one meets their love. His smile widening and excitement building up within him. At the same time, there was the touch of nervousness too. He quickly made his way down to the lobby where Charlie was seen welcoming a few guest that wanted to be redeemed

Well, the hotel has been gaining popularity after the battle with the exterminators and the fact that they won was no secret or easy feat to pull. Maybe the renovations also played a part. But Charlie was none the wiser whenever someone was expressing a want to be redeemed

Though to Alastor, it was a bigger deal when he spotted what was among the group of newcomers. There was no mistaken it, it had to be. While you were in disguise, you were still as elegant and commanding as the day he sold his soul to you and be the only one to have gained your attention and favour the fastest among your collection

Alastor held himself back, he wasn’t proper of him to interrupt Charlie’s little welcoming speech and you wouldn’t like it if he did. Luckily, while Charlie was busy with settling the other guest before you, he was given his chance to greet you

“Alastor, pleasure to be in your presence,” Alastor took your hand and kissed your knuckles, his eyes staring up at yours while he bowed low to show respect and the need to please. “Quite the pleasure.”

“Charmed.” You let a smirk form on your face, though it quickly fade to keep up with appearances

“May I inquire as to what brings you to this fine and renewed establishment?”

Charlie arrived in time to greet you as well. Being her usual cheerful and upbeat self even after all these years, and surviving the horrid battle against the angels. If you weren’t in disguise, you would have given her a pat on the head and a hug to comfort her. Yet you stick to your little plan and stayed level headed

It was merely to fine a place to stay, you explained how Vox was someone that had no sense of privacy with how he bugged everything. You kept the spying on you part to yourself, though you knew Alastor caught on when you mentioned Vox’s devices. Then you gestured to Alastor and praised that he was a perfect counter and addition to the hotel building since he cancels out Vox’s devices naturally

Alastor let out annoyed radio static when he learned of Vox displeasing you, how disrespectful. If only Vox could do even worse to be dropped out of the collection, then there’d be a real battle. Since deathly fights between the Overlords was forbidden. Still, Alastor could feel his smile widening at the superiority over Vox he had and praise he received, even with his 7 year disappearance, you didn’t let him go

Vaggie was quick to reject your stay and attempt to push you out when you weren’t even lying to want to be redeemed. Saying that the hotel wasn’t a rent-free place for demons to just show up to crash for their own amusement

Alastor was smart and quick to interject and maybe nearly slap Vaggie lobby but he managed to keep his hands behind his back. He gestured to the other guests as he made a point that turning away guest was rather rude for someone wanting to redeem demons. You added you can pay if it was too much, or just leave. Which gave Alastor a mini panic

Charlie agreed in the end and Vaggie received a look from Alastor while you thanked them with a smile. Alastor followed closely behind you while the tour was underway with the other new residents. When Charlie was arranging everyone’s stay, Alastor immediately had your room key ready, promising that it was the best room the hotel can provide. If you lacked anything, he’ll provide!

Since everything simmered down, you were in your room waiting for Alastor’s knock on your door to bring him to his radio tower that was guaranteed to not be listened in. He showed up at record time and offered you his hand to teleport the two of you to his tower

With a snap of your fingers, you let your disguise fall, revealing you in your glory and natural look. You sat on his desk while Alastor stood. The two of you started chatting then inquiring about the other’s well-being and current entertainment

It was rare, but you do visit your Overlords from time to time just to chat or catch up, it not only shows a want to connect and understand your souls, but also your continued interest in keeping them. There were times when your meeting with them could be a sign of you removing your hold over their soul, then it was a matter of time before the other Overlords knew about this development and hunt them down to own or destroy

An example was Husk. In your observant and keen eyes, you watched as he bet on the power and protection you granted him without a second thought, thinking that he would win back soon enough. Not soon enough for you as it would appear. You didn’t even visit him, you merely let him go without a word of warning. In fact, your patience and the extra time were your warnings

One that he didn’t even realize he was given. So Alastor set out to dominate Husk when he was removed from the collection. With Alastor’s win, he owned Husk’s soul and revealed that he was history to you. The look on Husk’s face was enough of a dedication to you, Alastor returned his dues

Though there were times when you allowed some lesser demons into your circle. Namely the Vees, specifically Valentino. He was at risk of your removal, yet time and time again, he was saved by Vox and Velvette who proved they work better as a team than individually like other Overlords. So to keep Vox and Velvette, Valentino was allowed to stay

That’s until you find more worthy ones

Yet it was in the Overlords’ nature to be the remaining one in your collection. To put down the other as a method of showing their superiority to you. You knew this ploy, so you set that they weren’t to fight or belittle the other with the aim to kill. You didn’t need or want souls that would harm other souls you hand picked

The Vees were your unique case. A case that was fragile to maintain. Wrong moves here and there, disrespectful words spatted out, risky actions committed. And they risk their entire group gone from your collection. Was there one that was save from your removal? Hardly, it was with a comparison does Vox and Velvette appear to be better

“When are you going to show me your wound, Alastor?” You got to your goal. You knew of the battle, you also knew Alastor took up the impossible task of defeating Adam to show you he was strong to remain in your elite. You knew your souls do their best to maintain your interest in them. Alastor was no different, especially when he disappeared for 7 years.

“A mere scratch! Nothing for you to worry over.” Alastor laughed, who was he lying to?

“It wasn’t a question.” You spoke with half-lid eyes staring back at him.

He flinched and bowed his head, slowly undoing his coat and shirt, finally showing you the large bandaged wound that was soaking with more blood by the minute. “It’s… not as bad as it seem…”

You becken him closer to you so you could inspect it. Silence filled the room. Alastor was ashamed, the silence was deafening to him, he can’t handle it. His heart beat fast, his mind wondered if you’re throwing him away like you did Husk. This was the calm before the storm.

His head jerked up when your soft hands pressed against the center of his chest, he’d have felt more of your touch if not for the layers of bandages. A warm feeling covered his wound and he felt energized and relaxed, his knees caving in when your hand retreated

He didn’t even realize his head was in your lap as his ears pinned back while your hands combed through his hair soothingly. His eyes closed from the peace he felt

It reminded him of the time when he first met you. How foolish was he to want to overtake you, to think you were weak, to think that you were only relying on the souls you collected. No, you held real power, power he can’t even imagine

“Alastor, you know I’m never going to let your soul go, right?”

“Thank you, My Liege.”

BONUS!

When another Overlord meeting was held, nearly all were in attendance. The news of your appearance was enough of a goad to draw in the others. Even the Vees were all present

Once everyone was seated, Alastor took the floor. You approached him, he wasn’t released by you, and you were staying where he was. As expected, there was an uproar. How was Alastor this lucky?!

Alastor directed to Vox, retelling your displeasure in his stalking while he defended that it was for protection. More eyes directed to Vox, seeing him as the reason why you weren’t as active as before, you were uncomfortable because of all the devices and camera Vox has around the city

“Hahaha! However you spin this to your favour, you can’t deny that Our Lovely Protector and Liege is vexed by your actions. So much so that Our Liege has seeked me out for haven! Now what’s to be done about that, hm?”

“You little!!!”

Meanwhile, you watched from the comforts of your room while a holographic display. A fond smile on your face and a chuckle of amusement let out, “I’ve collected quite the group, huh? I never get bored with them around.”

Note: Yes~ This is out now!! Wonder if you guys like this one. I'm wondering if I should add 'yandere', but then it's more like that, more of devotion and loyalty. Anyways! Love to hear your thoughts (if you have any)

I got a challenge for you though!! Can you name, in order, all the Overlords that were used to illustrate swearing allegiance to?

Circe Y.

Other Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@aconfusedwonderland

@crowleysthings

@donustellaron

@mistpurpl3

#Circe's Nighty Writings #Circe's requested writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #alastor fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin hotel fanfiction #Collection of Overlords

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intoxicated-chan · 3 months

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𝐀 𝐖𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐜𝐞 & 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞 ⚘ 𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒘

Summary ➳ Thorin’s heart swears to despise each and every dragon, but how could he come to hate its rider who longs for a home as he does?

Extra Information ➳ (Y/n) appeared in Mirkwood twenty three years ago with a baby dragon perched on her shoulder. Thranduil took her in to keep a promise to an old friend.

(A/n) ➳ I started writing this mid November of last year back when I started the Hobbit. I plan to upload this series either Spring or Winter. Feedback is greatly appreciated. I feel like this is more of my better works considering I wanted it to feel like the Hobbit/LOTR.

Word Count ➳ 610

Content Warnings ➳ Female Targaryen Reader, 3rd P.O.V, mentions the Doom of Valyria, mentions of death…

Series Masterlist || Chapter 1

(Y/n) watched from the corner, watching as each dwarf was pushed into a cell. Their complaints were falling on death’s ears.

She stepped out from the shadows and towards Legolas’s direction, wanting to know where the dwarves came from.

“What do you know of dragons, girl?” The dwarf’s voice was gruff, laced with bitterness as he eyed the dragon sigils embroidered into her clothing. “You wear it like a badge of honor.”

(Y/n) eyed him as well, realizing who the dwarf in the cell was. “You’re Thorin Oakenshield? Heir to the throne of Erebor.”

Thorin’s fists clenched around the iron bars. “You have yet to answer my question.”

(Y/n)’s eyes widened in amazement. “I cannot believe it. I’ve-”

“(Y/n)! Dina!” Legolas commanded her to come. “Get away from the dwarf.”

With that, she walked away, leaving no room for Thorin or (Y/n) to say anything.

“Must you speak to them?” Legolas sneered, following you down the steps. “What reason do you have?”

“I’ve always wanted to see the infamous Thorin Oakenshield. It was not disappointing.”

“...Is it?”

(Y/n) nodded, a smile on her lips. “Yes. If what they say is true… If they reclaim the mountain, I would love to see the glory of Erebor.”

Legolas froze in his steps. “I am beginning to wonder where your allegiance lies.”

“What makes you wonder that?”

“...Go, I need to report to the King.”

She rolled her eyes, asking herself if her curiosity made Legolas or anyone else question her loyalty.

Of course, her loyalty lies with Thranduil, he saved her and took a human and a dragon in. A human not from this world.

The sun had begun to set when (Y/n) stood at Thorin’s cell. “Might I ask you something?” She began, breaking the silence.

He looked up at her, eyes wary. “What is it? Dragon rider?”

“If you had no memories of the kingdom or its riches, would you still fight to reclaim it?”

“Yes.” He answered without hesitation. “For it is not the gold or treasures that drive me, but the honor and memory of my kin who were lost. To reclaim Erebor is to honor their memory, to give those who wish for their home.”

He stepped closer to the bars as he spoke his words, loudly enough for the rest of the Company to hear. He spoke with bravery and pride, not a single once of shame in them.

(Y/n) listened to his words closely. It made her think of her own home, the writing of the book could not describe the doom correctly.

Only a dream, unsure if it came true…

(Y/n) became lost in her thoughts, she began to speak aloud. “I wonder…” She uttered. “What it would be to see Valyria, to walk the streets, see the dragons fly into the sky with my people on its back. I wonder if any Targaryens remain.”

She sighed, sitting down on the steps. “I wonder if the dream was true and the doom of my home was correct.”

Thorin, still irate from the encounter from earlier but genuinely curious about her side of dragons, sat as well. “Was it taken?”

“It was destroyed. A Targaryen had a dream, D… Daenys had a dream. She had foresaw the destruction. But I have no way to know if it was true, I do not know if Valyria still stands or if any Targaryens remain to rule the skies.”

(Y/n) looked up to the ceiling, closing her eyes to remember how Valyria was described. “To be home. I would give my life just to see it.”

“…May you find your way home, dragon rider… And safely.”

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ultimateshixiongfuckertournament · 2 months

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Noncanonicals Tournament FINAL

This final is between Han Ying from Word of Honor (shizun/mentor: Zhou Zishu) and Fang Duobing from Mysterious Lotus Casebook (shizun/mentor: Li Xiangyi / Li Lianhua)

Propaganda under the cut! (Warning: Propaganda may include spoilers about the characters and their media)

Han Ying:

He idolized and was mentored by Zhou Zishu to the point of recruiting other young martial artists to revive ZZS’s dying sect and willing to die live happily ever after for it.

#han ying wants to fuck zhou zishu SO BAD#han ying#shizunfucker tournament

#my sweet ying'er wants to fuck zzs so bad he's gagging for it

#HAN YING HANDS DOWN#would have licked his boots if he asked

#han ying wanted nothing more than to officially become zzs's student/part of his sect#it was literally his dying wish that his brothers in arms may get to do that#he says several times in the show to zzs's very face that he's 100% down for dying for him#he swears allegiance EXCLUSIVELY to zzs and not the prince they're all serving#he comes up with bangers like 'if there is anything you need I will lay down my life with no regret'#'if you were gone one day how could I live alone'#'a loyal servant wouldn't have two masters in his life'#he sneaks into zzs's abandoned residence and homoerotically-#-strokes the painting of a flower that symbolizes a) zzs himself b) zzs's grief for being the lone survivor of his sect#and he wanted to join siji so so badly#it was his life's dream and he died IN siji but before getting to have that 😭#listen he makes me insane#anyway they should have fucked sloppy style and zzs would have had an out of body experience if hy called him shizun#my final thesis goodbye

#it's HAN YING#you could power entire nations with the power of that yearning

#han ying saw zhou zishu and IMMEDIATELY dropped to his knees are you joking#wen kexing immediately clocked him

#ying'er my sweet prince#he wants the dick so badly

Fang Duobing:

Fang Duobing has most definitely had several fantasies of being dommed by his shifu Li Xiangyi! He is also equally invested in marrying Li Lianhua - travelling the jianghu, going on rooftop moonlit dates, incorporating looking after him forever and ever into his general future plans. This is even before he knows that Li Lianhua and Li Xiangyi are the same person. Oh there are Layers to the shizunfucking. Where's that post about being so devoted to someone that it breaks the pedestal they're put on and comes full circle to loving them for the person they are? (its here: https://www.tumblr.com/difeisheng/733133489565745152/the-core-of-fanghua-is-built-around-fang-duobings) When they finally do get to know each other 10 years later, after Li Xiangyi's identity is found out, Fang Duobing insists on being equals rather than master-and-disciple! Li lianhua is Fang Duobing’s guide in the Jianghu! He leaves his house, dog and the only records of his unique martial arts to Fang Duobing before running away!! Fang Duobing’s most important agenda is to save Li Lianhua from slow death by poison!!! He doesn't care if Li Lianhua keeps leaving him behind and lying to him and is 'at peace' with dying!! They live together. They'll never be equals. They've been equals all along. They're zhiji. They're master and disciple. they're married. They're everything.

#this man wanted to fuck his shizun under two whole ass different identities#this man was given one million choices between his shizun and his entire cushy rich boi life and did not sweat the decision even once#this man was engaged to a princess - who was COOL - and went “no thanks i’d rather follow shizun around in a fantasy china airstream’

#this cannot not be fang duobing let's be serious#polls#he's been drawing hearts around his shizun's name since age 8

#Fang Duobing going through it for what he thinks is two different people but is just one guy#so he gets my vote easy

#pls he is head employee at shizunfucker.co

#han ying #fang duobing #word of honor #mysterious lotus casebook #zhou zishu #li lianhua #li xiangyi

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azsazz · 1 year

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Bloody Knuckles and the Songs of Death (Part 2)

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Reader is everything that Azriel is not. Opposite feelings but equal death in the end.

AKA: Half a rewrite of chapters 43-47 of ACOWAR where reader is now there as part of the Autumn Court, excited to meet Azriel. The other half are my own ideas.

Warnings: Major themes of death, ACOWAR spoilers, blood, gore, mentions of abuse, smut.

Word Count: 3,991

(Part One)

_________________________________________

Absolute silence. Absolute stillness.

The tremor of magic slides through the room as shield after shield locks into place around each High Lord and their retinues. A wave of heat flashes across your face as even Beron’s protective shields come out, and something exciting stirs in your chest because of it. The power flitting through the room weighs heavy on everyone’s shoulders, their faces solemn as they look between each other wearily, sizing each other up, but your lips twitch, itching to break out into a grin.

You can almost smell the bloodshed waiting to happen.

You can’t help but watch how the Night Court participants react to Tamlin’s arrival. Rhysand’s face is set into that well-practiced bored look that Eris had told you about. You can practically feel the dark power rippling beneath his skin.

Feyre tries to school her face into the same cold caution her elder sister wears, but she fails so miserably your laugh nearly slips. Not even the daggers the shadowsinger shoots you has your smile faltering, and you lean in a little closer to Eris beside you, if only to play the part you knew so well as you dismiss him, feeling the embers of Beron’s eyes following your every move. At the sight of the vague distaste on Mor’s face, you’re on the edge of your seat.

Feyre’s discomfort is palpable in the large room that has suddenly shrunk three sizes since the arrival of the missing High Lord. Your attention returns to Tamlin, his gleaming green eyes fixed solely on the new High Lady of Night and her mate.

He smiles broadly, his sharp teeth white as crow-picked bones, the kind that can rip through flesh with the ease of the freshly-sharpened blade at your side, the kind that can land a killing blow with one well placed bite. A shiver slides up your spine at the thought of Tamlin slaughtering someone with those wolfish teeth.

Thesean rises from his lush chair as if to greet the tardy male. His captain remains seated beside him with a hand on his sword.

“We were not expecting you, Tamlin.” Thesean gestures beside him towards his cringing attendants. “Fetch the High Lord a chair.”

Tamlin doesn’t acknowledge Thesean, instead, his eyes stay locked on Feyre and her courtiers.

Something in his smile changes, turning more subdued. You can see clearly the effect it has on Feyre, the way she stiffens under his unfaltering eyes, turning more and more vicious the longer he looks.

He’s clad in a green tunic, the color of full grasses you’d only seen once. He dons no crown, no adornments that show off his wealth like many of the other High Lords. Eris twists his thick gold ring around his first finger, a circlet of leaves that make up his family crest, his only true show of wealth.

Beron is the one who breaks the tense silence and you refrain from rolling your eyes, knowing what punishment it will catch you if he notices.

You still hadn’t fully recovered from his last disciplinary action.

Azriel’s brows furrow in your direction as you shift uncomfortably in your chair, fingers brushing over your sleeve where the mark lays. It’s a fleeting brush of his golden gaze as it hardens on the Autumn Lord two seats down from you.

“I will admit, Tamlin, that I am surprised to see you here.”

Still, the High Lord of Spring does not look away from his prey, watching every breath Feyre takes.

Beron continues anyway, “Rumor claims your allegiance now lies elsewhere.”

You have to give it to the asshole High Lord that you’d very much like to put in the ground. He isn’t afraid to ask the real questions, the ones everyone so desperately wants answered but doesn’t dare ask.

Finally, Tamlin’s gaze shifts, not towards the male speaking to him, but to the shining ring on Feyre’s finger. To the dark swirl of ink etched across her hand, flowing beneath the glittering, pale blue sleeve of her gown. It trails up, up, up to the crown of onyx jewels in her hair, glittering in the sunlight.

Nobody moves.

You’d heard of what she’d done to him and his court. The deceptions, the lies, all of it had spread across Prythian like a wildfire, poisonous and all consuming. What she’d done to him in her rage…you would have to agree that the beast keeping her holed up in his mansion deserved nothing less. If the Autumn and Night Court weren’t on such terrible terms, you think you'd actually like to get to know Feyre and become her friend.

The change in Feyre’s stare is evident. Her molten wrath at the memories of what he’d done to her turns her pale gray eyes into something sharp-edged and brittle.

Thesean’s attendants return, hauling a chair between them. They set it between Oakland and Helion’s entourage. Neither look thrilled about it, Oakland trying to smother the look of disgust with his wine glass, but they aren’t stupid enough to physically recoil as Tamlin sits.

The High Lord of Spring says not one word.

Helion waves a scar-flecked hand and your head tilts as you stare at the pink slashes cutting across his dark skin, curious as to how he’d gotten them. If he’d been close to Death when he’d received such an honor.

“Let’s get on with it, then.”

Thesean clears his throat, but no one looks his way.

Not as Tamlin surveys the hand Rhys has resting on Feyre’s knee.

The loathing in the Spring King’s eyes practically simmers.

Everyone in the room braces themselves as he opens his mouth to speak.

“It would seem congratulations are in order.”

His words are flat–flat yet sharp as the claws he’s hiding beneath his golden skin.

Feyre says nothing.

Rhys holds Tamlin’s stare. He holds it with a face like ice, and yet utter rage roils beneath it. A cataclysmic rage, surging and writhing around the room, threatening to take everyone out in a single snap.

But Rhys addresses Thesean instead, who has reclaimed his seat, yet seems far from any sort of ease, “We can discuss the matter at hand later.”

Tamlin tacks on calmly, “Don’t stop on my account.”

The light in Rhysand’s eyes gutters, as if a hand of darkness wipes the very stars from his violet gaze. He reclines in his chair, withdrawing his hand from Feyre’s knee to trace idle circles on his seat’s wooden arm. “I am not in the business of discussing our plans with enemies.”

You, along with Helion, across the reflection pool, grin like lions.

“No,” Tamlin replies with equal ease, “You’re just in the business of fucking them.”

The entire Court goes silent.

Cassian, Azriel, and Mor are as still as Death, fury rippling off of them in silent waves, something that has utter delight rushing through your veins. As if Eris can feel your excitement, he places a hand over your knee under the table where no eyes can see, not that anyone is paying the two of you any attention anyway, not while there is something far more interesting to watch.

He squeezes softly in warning.

Don’t fuck this up.

Whether Tamlin notices the courtier's anger or cares that the three of the deadliest people in the room are contemplating his demise, he doesn't let on.

Your mouth parts slightly to taste the air. It’s all you give yourself for now, the metallic tang of bloodshed waiting to happen. You want to feel that red warmth across your skin, ache for the slickness between your fingers, painting your skin crimson, warm like the Death you love so dear.

Rhysand only shrugs, smiling faintly. “Seems a far less destructive alternative to war.”

“And yet here you are, having started it in the first place.”

The Night Court ruler’s blink is the only sign of his confusion.

A claw slides out of Tamlin’s knuckle.

Kallias tenses, a hand drifting to the arm of Viviane’s chair–as if he’ll throw himself in front of it. Honorable of him. But Tamlin only drags his claw lightly down the carved arm of his own chair. You’re wickedly transported to the thoughts of all of the times you’d done the same with your blade, watching the life drain from your foe’s eyes. Your stare becomes more intense.

Tamlin smiles at Feyre knowingly, the High Ladies pallor turning white as the motion triggers something within her.

“If you hadn’t stolen my bride away in the night, Rhysand, I would not have been forced to take such drastic measures to get her back.”

Feyre says quietly, “The sun was shining when I left you.”

Your smile hurts.

Green eyes slide to her once more, glazed and foreign. He lets out a low snort, then looks away just as quickly.

Dismissal.

Kallias asks, “Why are you here, Tamlin?”

Tamlin’s claw digs into the wood, puncturing deep even as his voice remains mild. “I bartered access to my lands to get back the woman I love from a sadist who plays with minds as if they are toys. I meant to fight Hybern–to find a way around the bargain I made with the king once she was back. Only Rhysand and his cabal had turned her into one of them. And she delighted in ripping open my territory for Hybern to invade. All for a petty grudge–either her or her…master’s.”

“You don’t get to rewrite the narrative,” Feyre breathes. “You don’t get to spin this to your advantage.”

Tamlin angles his head at Rhys. “When you fuck her, have you ever noticed that little noise she makes right before she climaxes?”

The grin drops from your face.

Feyre’s cheeks are stained red. This isn’t an outright battle, but a steady, careful shredding of her dignity, her credibility. Beron beams and your stomach churns at his delight–while Eris carefully monitors.

Rhys turns his head, looking Feyre over from head to toe. Then back to Tamlin. A storm about to be unleashed.

But it’s Azriel who says, his voice like cold death, “Be careful how you speak about my High Lady.”

A shiver works its way up your spine. Something preens in your chest at his words, at the open threat on his face, bright eyes dark with the shroud of Death itself.

Surprise flashes in Tamlin’s eyes–then vanishes. Vanishes, swallowed by the pure fury as he realizes what that tattoo coating Feyre’s hand is for. “It was not enough to sit at my side, was it?” A hateful smile curls his lips. “You once asked me if you’d be my High Lady, and when I said no…”

A low laugh. “Perhaps I underestimated you. Why serve in my court, when you could rule in his?”

Tamlin finally faces the other gathered High Lords and their retinues. “They peddle tales of defending our land and peace. And yet she came to my lands and laid them bare for Hybern. She took my High Priestess and warped her mind–after she shattered her bones for spite. And if you are asking yourself what happened to that human girl who went Under the Mountain to save us…Look to the male sitting beside her. Ask what he stands to gain–what they stand to gain from this war, or lack of it. Would we fight Hybern, only to find ourselves with a Queen and King of Prythian? She’s proved her ambition–and you saw how he was more than happy to serve Amarantha to remain unscathed.”

You catch Feyre holding back a snarl at the heinous words aimed at her mate.

Rhys releases a dark laugh. “Well played, Tamlin. You’re learning.”

Ire contorts Tamlin’s face at the condescension. But he faces Kallias. “You asked why I’m here? I might ask the same of you.” He jerks his chin at the High Lord of Winter, at Viviane–the few other members of their retinue who remain silent. “You mean to tell me that after Under the Mountain, you can stomach working with him?” A finger flung in Rhysand’s direction.

The silvery glow about Kallias dulls.

Even Viviane seems to dim. “We came here to decide that for ourselves.”

Mor stares at her friend in quiet questioning. Viviane, for the first time since the Night Court had arrived, does not look toward her. Only at her mate.

Rhys says softly to them, to everyone, “I had no involvement in that. None.”

Kallias’s eyes flare like blue flame. “You stood beside her throne while the order was given.”

There isn’t anything anyone can do, except watch Rhys’ golden skin pale. “I tried to stop it.”

“Tell that to the parents of the two dozen younglings she butchered,” Kallias says, and this time you don’t feel that loving caress of Death, you only hurt for the children that had been ripped away from their parents at such a young age. You know that Death herself will take the best care of them, and sometimes not all death can be justified. “That you tried.”

Rhys’ mouth tightens. “There is not one day that passes when I don’t remember it,” he says to Kallias, to Viviane. To their companions. “Not one day.”

“Remembering,” Kallias answers, “Doesn’t bring them back, does it?”

“No,” Rhys says plainly. “No, it doesn’t. And I am now fighting to make sure it never happens again.”

Viviane glances between her husband and Rhys. “I was not present Under the Mountain. But I would hear, High Lord, how you tried to–stop her.” Pain tightens her face. She, too, had been unable to prevent it while she guarded her small slice of territory.

You had heard the whispers of things of what happened during Under the Mountain and snippets of what Eris could choke out, but you had never really believed it to be much truth as it came from the gossipping handmaids of the Autumn Court manor that you were bound to, even while the High Lord and his family were trapped below.

Rhys says nothing.

Beron snorts, the sound makes you cringe. “Finally speechless, Rhysand?”

Feyre’s hand slips to Rhys’ arm. Tamlin marks it, but she doesn’t seem to care. She says to her mate, not bothering to keep her voice down, “I believe you.”

“Says the woman,” Beron counters, and it’s all you can do to not look like you’re a part of their façade as a unified family. “Who gave an innocent girl’s name in her stead–for Amarantha to butcher as well.”

Rhys swallows and Feyre’s grip tightens on his arm.

His voice is rough as he says to Kallias, “When your people rebelled…” And you recall exactly how Winter had rebelled against Amarantha. And the children…that had been Amarantha’s answer. Her punishment for disobedience. “She was furious. She wanted you dead, Kallias.”

Viviane’s face drains of color.

Rhys continues, “I…convinced her that it would serve little purpose.”

“Who knew,” Beron muses, “That a cock could be so persuasive?”

“Father.” Eris’ voice is low with warning. His hand tightens on your knee.

For Cassian, Azriel, Mor, and Feyre fix their gazes upon the High Lord of Autumn. None of them are smiling.

They look as though Eris might become High Lord sooner than he plans.

That flutter kicks up in your stomach again at the lethal looks in their eyes, especially that extra sparkle in Azriel’s.

If only you could help make that happen.

But Rhys goes on to Kallias, “She backed off the idea of killing you. Your rebels were dead–I convinced her it was enough. I thought it was the end of it.” His breathing hitches slightly. “I only found out when you did. I think she viewed my defense of you as a warning sign–she didn’t tell me any of it. And she kept me…confined. I tried to break into the minds of the soldiers she sent, but her damper on my power was too strong to hold them–and it was already done. She…she sent a daemati with them. To…” He falters, but you all know what had happened. The children’s minds–they’d been shattered. Rhys swallows. “I think she wanted you to suspect me. To keep us from ever allying against her.”

What he must have witnessed within those soldiers’ minds…

“Where did she confine you?” The question comes from Viviane, her arms wrapped around her middle.

No one is entirely ready for it when Rhys answers, “Her bedroom.”

His friends do not hide their rage, their grief at the details he’d kept even from them.

“Stories and words,” Tamlin says, lounging in his chair. Your anger flares like the fires of the Court you’ve been chained to for nearly a century. “Is there any proof?”

“Proof–” Cassian snarls, half rising in his seat, his wings starting to flare.

“No,” Rhys cuts in as Mor blocks Cassian with an arm, forcing him to sit. Rhys adds to Kallias, “But I swear it–upon my mate’s life.” His hand rests atop of Feyre’s.

Your stomach whorls at the realization that he must have known what coming here, presenting his front just as they are, would cost him. What he might have to reveal beyond the wings he’s managed to hide so well for so long.

Tamlin rolls his eyes. You can see the utter restraint Feyre has to keep her from lunging for him–from ripping out his eyes in the name of her mate.

But whatever Kallias reads in Rhys’ face, his words…he pins Tamlin with a hard stare as he asks again, “Why are you here, Tamlin?”

A muscle flickers in Tamlin’s jaw. “I am here to help you fight against Hybern.”

“Bullshit,” Cassian mutters, and you silently agree, catching his glowering gaze with a slight nod of your head. His brows twitch into a furrow before he dismisses you, untrusting of the pet so cozied up to Autumn.

Tamlin glares at him. Cassian, folding his wings in neatly as he leans back in his chair once more, offers him a crooked grin in return.

“You will forgive us,” Thesean interrupts gracefully, “If we are doubtful. And hesitant to share any plans.”

“Even when I have information on Hybern’s movements?”

Silence. Tarquin, across the pool, watches and listens–either because he’s the youngest of them, or perhaps he knows some advantage that lies in letting them battle it out themselves.

Tamlin smiles at Feyre again. “Why do you think I invited them to the house? Into my lands?” He lets out a low snarl, and Rhys tenses in his seat at the sound. “I once told you I would fight against tyranny, against that sort of evil. Did you think you were enough to turn me from that?” His teeth shine white as bone. “It was so easy for you to call me a monster, despite all I did for you, for your family.” A sneer towards Nesta, who is frowning with distaste. “Yet you witnessed all that he did Under the Mountain, and still spread your legs for him. Fitting, I suppose. He whored for Amarantha for decades. Why shouldn’t you be his whore in return?”

“Watch your mouth,” Mor snaps.

Tamlin ignores her wholly and waves a hand towards Rhysand’s wings. “I sometimes forget–what you are. Have the masks come off now, or is this another ploy?”

“You’re beginning to become tedious, Tamlin,” Helion says, propping his head on a hand. “Take your lovers’ spat elsewhere and let the rest of us discuss this war.”

“You’d be all too happy for war, considering how well you made out in the last one.”

“No one says war can’t be lucrative,” Helion counters. Tamlin’s lip curls in a silent snarl that makes you wonder if he’d gone to Helion to break Feyre’s bargain with Rhys–if Helion had refused.

“Enough,” Kallias says. “We have our opinions on how the conflict with Hybern should be dealt with.” Those glacial eyes harden as he takes in Tamlin again. “Are you here as an ally of Hybern or Prythian?”

The mocking, hateful gleam fades into granite resolve. “I stand against Hybern.”

“Prove it,” Helion goads.

Tamlin lifts his hand, and a stack of papers appears on the little table beside his chair. “Charts of armies, ammunition, caches of faebane…Everything carefully gleaned these months.”

“Noble as it sounds,” Helion continues, “Who is to say that the information is correct–or that you aren’t Hybern’s agent, trying to mislead us?”

“Who is to say that Rhysand and his cronies are not agents of Hybern, all of this a ruse to get you to yield without realizing it?”

Nesta murmurs, “You can’t be serious.” Mor gives her a look as if to say that he certainly is.

“If we need to ally against Hybern,” Thesean said, “You are doing a good job of convincing us not to band together, Tamlin.”

“I am simply warning you that they might present the guise of honesty and friendship, but the fact remains that he warmed Amarantha’s bed for fifty years, and only worked against her when it seemed the tide was turning. I’m warning you that while he claims his own city was attacked by Hybern, they made off remarkably well–as if they’d been anticipating it. Don’t think he wouldn’t sacrifice a few buildings and lesser faeries to lure you into an alliance, into thinking you had a common enemy. Why is it that only the Night Court got word about the attack on Adriata–and were the only ones to arrive in time to play savior?”

“They received word,” Varian cuts in coolly, “Because I warned them of it.”

Tarquin whips his head to his cousin, brows high with surprise.

“Perhaps you’re working with them, too,” Tamlin said to the Prince of Adriata. “You’re next in line, after all.”

“You’re insane,” Feyre breathes to Tamlin as Varian bares his teeth. “Do you hear what you’re saying?” She points toward Nesta. “Hybern turned my sisters into Fae–after your bitch of a priestess sold them out!”

“Perhaps Ianthe’s mind was already in Rhysand’s thrall. And what a tragedy to remain young and beautiful. You’re a good actress–I’m sure the trait runs in the family.”

Nesta lets out a low laugh. “If you want someone to blame for all of this,” she says to Tamlin, “Perhaps you should first look in the mirror.”

Tamlin snarls at her and your excitement returns. You may see some action after all.

Casisan snarls right back, “Watch it.”

Tamlin looks between Feyre’s sister and Cassian–his gaze lingering on Cassian’s wings, tucked in behind him. Snorts. “Seems like other preferences run in the Archeron family, too.”

Feyre’s power begins to rumble throughout the room–a behemoth rising up, yawning awake.

“What do you want?” She hisses. “An apology? For me to crawl back into your bed and play nice, little wife?”

“Why should I want spoiled goods returned to me?”

Her cheeks flare.

Tamlin growls, “The moment you let him fuck you like an–”

One heartbeat, the poisoned words spew from his mouth–where fangs lengthen.

Then they stop.

Tamlin’s mouth simply stops emitting sounds. He shuts his mouth, opens it–tries again.

No sound, not even a snarl, comes out.

There is no smile on Rhysand’s face, not a glint of that irreverent amusement as he rests his head against the back of his chair. “The gasping-fish look is a good one for you, Tamlin.”

The others, who have been watching with disdain and boredom, now turn to the High Lord of Night. Now possessing a shadow of fear in their eyes as they realize who and what, exactly, sits amongst them.

You can’t help but to smile again. Wicked.

Brethren, and yet not. Tamlin is a High Lord, as powerful as any of them.

Except for the one at Feyre’s side. Rhys is different from them as humans are to Fae.

They forgot it, sometimes–how deep that well of power goes. What manner of power Rhys bears.

But as Rhysand rips away Tamlin’s ability to speak, they remember.

#azriel x reader #azriel/reader #azriel #acotar #acowar #acowar rewrite #acomaf #azsazz

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mcflymemes · 1 year

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GENERIC FANTASY PROMPTS * assorted dialogue for any fantasy setting

you are a descendent from an ancient royal line.

can you joust?

this is not a question of bravery.

are you too cowardly to take a life?

hand me my sword.

the sheets feel scratchy.

you could have got us killed!

if you had kept to the plan, those knights might be alive right now.

together, we have a chance to take back what is ours.

would you ride into town with me?

you're playing with fire.

you should be on the throne.

perhaps we never should have come.

did you bring your bow?

you take one more step, traitor, and i'll chew you to splinters.

are you fit to compete, or shall the forfeit stand?

thank you, my lord.

i will deal with you when this is over.

you have to go alone.

we have some work to do.

it's an ambush!

why are they all staring at us?

were you robbed?

clean your sword.

i must look for a suitor.

i know where your allegiance lies.

pick up your sword.

you're not going to kill me?

what do you propose we do, your majesty?

the path takes us through there.

i will probably die on this quest.

even the peasants can marry for love.

your people love you.

i just learned this spell. can i show you?

are you with me?

how many more must die for the throne?

why don't we discuss the matter later?

what are you wearing to the ball tonight?

do not shush me!

be careful on those roads. there's been a report of bandits.

i'm not worthy of the throne.

how do i know your promise will be kept?

take the sword to the tower.

is that your horse?

i hear there's going to be a royal ball.

it was said to be magic.

no one has ever taken that castle.

what a waste of brandy.

is there a way down?

do you hear talk of a dragon?

you knowingly endangered a member of the royal family.

on a horse, with a lance... you're unbeatable.

some day, i'll be a knight.

there's an army out there, and it's ready to follow you.

hold your tongue or lose it.

you're no longer a myth. you're starting to mean something.

admiring the castle again, i see. isn't it beautiful?

tonight, evil has met its match.

you make me feel like a poet.

i'll ride with you.

this kingdom is better off without the lot of you!

why were they trying to kill you?

no one ever comes back from the woods.

i think it's time we found out what's going on.

i will not lose.

how about a little target practice?

you were right to fear the woods.

choose your last words carefully!

the time for pleasantries is through.

run, and i will run with you.

they wanted to arrange my marriage.

will you dance with me?

i'm sure when i'm older, i'll understand.

you know what we have to do.

what do you think? now that you know what i am?

you speak of what you do not know.

my parents were peasants.

we have a long journey ahead of us.

we should have killed them when we had the chance.

you might find this land a more savage place than you remember.

do you even know how to use that thing?

you have to be of noble birth to compete!

i didn't want to be at the celebration.

i can do magic.

are those catapults?

do you know any spells?

i'm not supposed to be seen with people like you.

minotaurs? they're real?

try and take them then.

help me fetch my arrows.

i'm afraid i'm not worthy of you.

i hear you have a quest for me.

sit with me and drink.

that's a bit of a long story.

there is no way that i am fighting.

i challenge you to a duel.

i wonder who lived here.

maybe it's time you had this back.

you have a traitor in your midst.

meet me in the castle gardens tonight, after the sun sets.

the king sent me.

you stole from the castle?

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mageknight14 · 3 months

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Dissecting the Femme Fatale Archetype: A Dive into Kanon Tachibana's Character

Kanon Tachibana is one of my favorite TWEWY supporting cast members. Probably not a truly unique opinion, as she's one of the more positively-received characters I've seen when it comes to online opinions on the game, but she's one of my favorites because she’s a perfect example of NEO’s more subtle character writing and gets the perspective flipped on her twice when you initially play through the game and then replay it. So, with that, let's get into her character and what makes her tick in particular.

When we first meet her, she doesn’t make the best first impression, what with her stealing the hard-earned victory pin from Rindo/Fret’s noses and sweet-talking them into letting her keep it (I also love how she glares at Shiba’s announcement, having seen this old song and dance).

Combine this with what the Social Network says about her leading other teams to their doom thanks to her honeyed words and sweet disposition and what we seemingly have is a classic case of the femme fatale character, someone who’s NOT to be trusted.

However, as we progress through the game, we can see that there’s actually a lot more to her than meets the eye. Even after point-sniping them, she still comes forward to give the Twisters advice from time-to-time when it comes to matters regarding the Game. Encouraging them to take on more team members, warning against going up to fight the Ruinbringers (Susukichi in particular), all that jazz.

At the same time, however, she also takes care to reaffirm that she’s also suspicious of the Twisters and their capabilities, often showing surprising amounts of protectiveness when it comes to the other team leaders. These switches between friendly teasing and hard-hitting accusations understandably unnerve the team a bit.

On top of that, throughout the weeks, she also shows a talent for picking apart Fret's surface-level compliments/attempts at flattery, herself being an expert when it comes to that sort of thing as noted by her Social Network profile.

While she is mainly looking out for herself and the Variabeauties, she also does have a sense of honor/fair-play when it comes to be able to fight on an even playing field, which she showcases in her alliance proposal to the Twisters on W2D3.

In the span of one convo, she was able to:

-Pick out that the Twisters are the biggest wild cards in the structure of the Game and note them as such, giving them incentive to look into their own capabilities and find her offer more appealing when weighing their options.

-Play into their doubts regarding the Game and reaffirm to them that this is really the only option they have left at this point if they want to have any hope of actually escaping.

-Blow away Fret’s preconceptions that she’s just as ingenuine as he is as shown by his nervous laughter

-Emphasize that if they’re able to pull it off, it’s a win-win for everyone involved.

It’s made apparent that Kanon is an incredibly skilled negotiator, though understandably Rindo still has her doubts about her because she’s been equal parts threatening and supportive, which sends a mixed message. Who’s to say where her allegiance truly lies?

However, a surprisingly strong affirmation on her convictions comes from no one other than Motoi himself, who actually vouches for Kanon’s intentions and belief in the Twisters being genuine on her part. This along with Swallow’s prodding later on gets Rindo to change his tune. Now, there’s a dozen different interpretations on why Motoi would go out of his way to vouch for Kanon’s character but the fact that he was actually right on the money is a pretty subtle hint that they know about each other and how they tick more than people realize…

Then we go into W2D7, where Kanon’s recounting of the Ruinbringers’ activities and her muted reaction towards Motoi’s erasure emphasizing that she’s been at this for a long, LONG, horrifying while, becoming practically numb to it all.

And when Sudden Death in Week 3 comes around, she starts to kick up her critique of Fret and his issues into overdrive, wanting to see him grow for the better knowing full well that she and the Variabeauties might not make it at the end of the week. And unfortunately for her, Fret, and the Beauties, that fear ends up becoming a reality.

The following day, Fret flat out tells the others about how he felt about Kanon: that he wanted to BE like her, finding her genuine nature and confidence in who she is as something to aspire to, and wanted her to see him reach that level.

By then, our perspective on Kanon has flipped: a scheming femme fatale who turns out to be an intelligent, real, and loyal soul. Someone who starts off cold towards the Twisters before coming around to genuinely like and appreciate them (note the little smile in image 2!)

However, this is only half of the real Kanon we get to know and when we take a look back at some of convos within the game, the Reports, and see past Fret’s idealized image of her, we get to see a much more deeper side to Kanon than what was already there.

First, we need to talk about two aspects of Kanon; her hidden resentment of the Twisters/the system she’s trapped in and her trust issues. As noted above, Kanon is quite curiously protective in regards to the other Player teams, even accusing the Twisters of sabotaging them at some points, and this is for one particular reason: she and the rest of the Beauties are in an unspoken alliance with both teams. One where the top 3 teams (besides the Ruinbringers of course) keep their footing by sending new players and other teams to last place. This is something that’s actually alluded to on W2D3, with the Beauties and Purehearts corroborating together to take down the Twisters.

I also want to draw your attention again to these scenes here, where in the second timeline Rindo has Replayed to, Kanon already knows about Fuya challenging the Ruinbringers whereas before in the first timeline she didn’t, hence why she’s a bit more antsy this time around.

The reason for this is because, due to the Wicked Twisters screwing up the balance of powers between the teams with their sheer existence and sending the DRS plummeting to last place on W1D5, Fuya has become more daring/reckless, desperate to etch out a win against Susukichi. While Fuya is noted by in the Social Network to have surprisingly strong Imagination, there's a reason why he and the the DRS are mainly in dead last.

Kanon and Motoi are the most powerful of the (non-Ruinbringers) teams solely because of their ability to manipulate things in their favour despite both being weak in psych/Imagination. In that regard they’re the most "successful" within the constraints of the rigged game. Fuya, on the other hand, while having strong psychic powers, isn't as wily as the other two in regards to their social prowess and failed to keep his team properly motivated and prevent them from feeling demoralized, which is shown most prominently on W1D5 where Rindo uses his time travel to reroute them from fulfilling their duties by playing on their desires in their moments of weaknesses.

With this in mind, it's no wonder that Fuya became so desperate to risk it all against Susukichi. And while the Twisters do almost bring about change by beating the Ruinbringers, it ultimately doesn’t matter in the long-run due to how incredibly rigged the Shinjuku game is and as a result, the DRS are eliminated, getting rid of the Beauties’ and Purehearts’ safety net.

This kind of stuff is what I mean by Kanon being a perfect example of NEO's subtle character writing. At first glance, Rindo's nonchalant note of her behavior in the second timeline isn't anything to write home about, but it's when you look at all these individual pieces and start lining them up all together, a clear picture starts to be formed. It's what makes NEO so fascinating as a work to explore everytime I replay it.

The Reports make it especially clear that the teams have been through this experience for 30 LOOPS, which has left them teetering on the brink of despair and coping with the situation in anyway they can, with W1D5 (as noted before) and W2D4, as well as other segments, exploring this in more detail.

Imagine going through what is essentially a never-ending hell for weeks on end with no opportunity for rest so you come up with a system to at least stall the inevitable before a couple of kids come around to throw that system out of wack but it all ends up amounting to nothing. With this in mind, it’s honestly no wonder that a part of Kanon resents the Twisters for what happened, with her Dive on W3D3 bringing up all of these lingering feelings to the surface.

However, Kanon knows that the Twisters realistically wouldn’t know about any of that. How could they, after all? She knows that they’re fundamentally good kids at their core and knows that her feelings towards them aren’t fair so she keeps them buried to focus more on her tasks. She tries to take all of the responsibility upon herself and not let anyone else get caught up in the crossfire but this leads into one of her fatal flaws: her inability to trust in the capabilities of her team.

Throughout the game, it’s made pretty apparent that both the Twisters (Fret in particular) and the Beauties idolize her, with the latter propping her up as their Kween. And to their credit, Kanon IS a genuinely good leader, one worth looking up to. However, with all of those expectations comes a sense of isolation, a feeling that you HAVE to take on all of the burdens because if you don’t, who else will? This is shown when she splits up the Beauties when the threat of the Plague Noise comes around, not trusting their capabilities. However, all this did was leave the Beauties as slim pickings for the Noise, including Kanon herself. This is actually foreshadowed all the way back in Week 1, where she declines potentially recruiting Nagi because she doesn’t want to ruin the dynamic she and the Beauties have going.

This is also a reflection of how Rindo himself initially acts, not wanting recruit more team members because he’s afraid of getting dragged down into failure and having no faith in his or his teammates’ capability to achieve things for themselves. What’s interesting is that Kanon does it because she wants to shoulder the burden/responsibility by herself whereas with Rindo, he does so because he wants to AVOID having to take responsibility for any potential fallout, relying on someone else to do it for him. However, as the game progresses, Rindo gets better about this, learning to let his barriers down, reach out to others more, and trust in himself and his friends’ capabilities.

In fact, when trying to save Kanon, Rindo nearly makes the same mistake as her by asking Fret to split up, but when Fret shows up, Rindo and co. are down to support him. And although they didn’t succeed in saving her, they were able to grant her the opportunity to die as herself and gain valuable information on combining Fret and Nagi’s powers to combat Shibuya Syndrome that helps them out in the following days.

Overall, Kanon is an incredibly interesting character with a lot going on underneath the surface (in a way, she’s basically Fret’s Hanekoma) and I hope that this analysis on her was able to at least shine some light on her various nuances.

#the world ends with you #ntwewy #neo twewy #neo the world ends with you #kanon tachibana #motoi anazawa #fuya kawahara #analysis post #character analysis #twewy

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desswright29 · 3 months

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CLASS 58 (Prolouge)

A/N: Soooo I wasn’t gonna do anymore Series but damnit this shit won’t turn me loose! So Here is a new MINI Series I’m introducing called CLASS 58!

“Alright! Everyone have a seat at the desk where you see your name tag. Do NOT touch the paperwork until instructed to do so!” The instructor yelled out.

You and the vaguely familiar faces around you, slowly walk around finding the seats that held your first and last names. Eager and full of anticipation for what lies ahead of you all for the day. You find your seat and run your finger across the name tag. New beginnings. You scan over the first paragraph of the papers sitting in front of you as you sit.

I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the …

“What the fuck are we getting ourselves into?” A feminine voice said from behind you. You turn to face her. She was short, brown skinned, and chubby. Her hair was cut low, and she had perfect teeth surrounded by pretty lips and a beautiful dimpled smile. She held out her hand to you, and you took it, giving it a short shake.

“I’m Benson. Kia Benson” You give her a smile, as she takes the seat next to you.

“Y/n Y/l/n”

“Nice to meet you Y/l/n.”

“Likewise” She sat, enthusiastically turning towards you in her chair, manspreading, and throwing her arm over the back of her chair. She stared at the side of your face until it started to burn, causing you to look over at her.

“Excuse me?” You say. She bit her lip as she looked you up and down.

“Mm”

“Mm?”

“May I ask how a pretty little thing like you ended up here?”

You smirk, and raise a brow sitting back in your chair. “You first.” She gave you that pretty smile once again.

“I was curious and let’s just say I enjoy challenges. I took a chance, applied and after an excruciating eight months of interviews my charm eventually landed me the position.” She gave you a wink and you rolled your eyes.

“Oh I'm sure it did. You seem full of charm.”

“You have yet to see the levels of my charm.”

“Mmm, can't wait.”

“I bet you can’t pretty lady. So what's your story?”

“I was recruited. Directly out of the military, Army HSC 601st Aviation Brigade. I should reintroduce myself. Staff Sergeant pretty little thing. As you so charmingly put it.” You held out your hand again and Benson lifted both of hers in defense.

“Oooh shit my bad boss lady! Ion want no smoke.” You chuckled at her dramatics.

“I know you don’t.” You said, once again raising your brows.

The sound of the heavy classroom door slamming behind someone interrupted the banter between you and your neighbor.

“Ay, Whaddup Udaku. Late as fuck as usual I see!”

“Ah Ha ha haaaa. Shut the fuck up.” The thick, sexy accent dripping in sarcasm caught your attention, and when you turned your head to see the woman donning such an attractive voice. Your heart dropped into your stomach. There she stood. Tall, shaved sides and a curly top. Her biceps bulged from a black compression top, and she wore shorts that read Army on the bottom left corner. A camelbak backpack was strapped to her shoulders, the rubber tip that dispensed the water rested between her lips as she walked down the aisle dapping up various people.

“Damn” you whisper to yourself.

“Man, damn! Here go this cock blocking bitch!” You hear come from next to you.

“And just what cock was she blocking? You glued the zipper on your backpack as soon as you opened your mouth.”

“Ha! You got jokes.”

“Fuck all that, who is she?” You said your eyes following her, as she sat in the desk front and center of the room.

“That’s Udaku. Another Army recruit. She’s been interning here for six months already. She comes and does P.T. with the canine team every morning and everyone knows her. And every woman in the force is trying to get her.”

“Well I might have to toss in my hat.” You sat forward in your seat, elbows on the table as you got an eye full of the African goddess. Benson smacks her teeth.

“Or, you could just be with someone who’s already interested” She opened her arms wide, and again there was that smile. You couldn't help but return with a giggle. “Benson, you're really cute. But I don't intend on dating anyone during this process. I have to be laser focused. We can be friends though. You seem pretty cool.”

“Pretty cool. I’m the shit!”

“See that’s what I'm talking about right there.” The two of you go back and forth until the instructors make their way to the front.

“Alright everyone settle down! Face forward!” The room quiets as everyone looks towards the front anxiously awaiting the man's next words.

“I’m Mr. Kaufman, your lead instructor. This is Mrs. Santigo, and Sgt. Sanders. These are my assistants. Your only job here for the next several months is to do as we say. Everything that we say to you will be for your benefit. We know what we’re doing, which is why we’ve been tasked with educating you all. It would behoove you to listen. Ms.Udaku! Please stand for me.” Shuri stood to her feet, turning to face the rest of the class. Her eyes scanning over the room.

“This is Udaku. She will be your class Captain and point of contact. If you have any questions after hours, contact Udaku. If she doesn't have the answer, she will contact us. If you're sick, call Udaku, If you have a family emergency, call Udaku.”

“If you need to ease the ache between your thighs. Call Udaku” The girl behind you whispered, causing snickers around the area. Shuri’s eyes landed on the group before settling on you. You were stuck in place as she looked you over, placing the straw of her camelbak back into her mouth. She bit into it and gave you a smirk and a wink before turning around and placing herself back into her seat.

“The oath that lay in front of you. I suggest you become very familiar with it and learn it by heart. That Oath will become your life. The line between a good or great officer. We will break you, and build you into some of the strongest people this world has to offer. This will be emotionally and physically demanding and not all of you will make it. But those of you who do will become a family. We’ll get ready to begin our first lesson here in a few but before we do. I want to say welcome Class 58 to The Federal Bureau of Investigations.”

WHO’S DOWN FOR COP SHURI!!!😉

#shuri udaku #letitia wright #shuri x reader #shuri fanfiction #spotify #shuri fic #shuri x you #Spotify

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13leaguestories · 3 months

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February 2024 Forecast

Superstition

Episode Four has been talked about and Episode Five is being written still. You'll know when it all gets updated. I want at least two episodes down before I even put something out. I actually just want to finish it but heyyyyyyy, you're going too far now.

Riders of Abauruth Survey

This survey is so that I can get an idea of what people want to see return and what they may like to see change.

This rewrite was for two reasons.

1. To bring RoA into the Jiwenia universe and to do that things had to be changed. For example, the history. I just couldn't copy and paste and move it over, it wasn't going to work nor fit. At this moment I don't even know where it will fit in the timeline just yet. Probably a few decades after ToA but I'm not entirely sure, like I said.

2. To tell the rest of the story I did want to tell back then but didn't really get too. I already had a whole thing on why I canceled it so just go read that.

This is brainstorming stage. So once I shut it down I'll be going through it, figuring out what tons of folks want versus what they really do not and figuring out how to make it all work or if it even works with my vision.

Some quick out there facts that I know:

Allison won't be dying like in the original. Her death will be like everyone else's, based on the reader. Sorry but her name doesn't start with Ch so she won't be one of those "could be in, could be dead" characters.

Dragons will still be male. Only addition to the setup is there will be a green dragon.

Your character is not the prophesied hero they once were. Read the summary on the survey.

There are 7 LI's and some of them will be locked out depending on gender. Gender is important!

These characters are the same but their allegiances and motives have changed. Do not go into this thinking they are the exact same. This is not the same RoA.

#monthly forecast

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torturedpoetsflashfest · 2 days

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FEST RECAP

Thank you all for a wonderful flash fest! 24 fics based on 16 songs with the most popular being "The Prophecy," "Peter," and "But Daddy I Love Him." The Black cousins reign supreme over this album with Regulus (7), Sirius (6), Andromeda (5), Narcissa (5) and Bellatrix (4) being the most popular characters. 9 fics met the challenge of having a word count which ends with 13.

Thank you to all the writers, and maybe we'll see you again for a flash fest for Rep (tv). In the meantime, come hang out in @marauders-taylor-fiending discord server or participate in @thetorturedpoetsfest <3

She's the Albatross (She's Here to Destroy You) by thistlecat (Narcissa centric, 313, T)

Beautiful, poised Narcissa Black Malfoy, so unlike her mad sisters with their insistence on destruction. Song: The Albatross

Did you really beam me up in a cloud of sparkling dust just to send me back where I came from? by @comesitintheclover (Harry-centric, 1013 words, G)

Harry wakes up from a long nightmare where he reckons with the anger of being left in an abusive home and how to feel about all that he's been through now that it's finally over and he's finally safe. Song: Down Bad

If Only by multilingualism (Hermione/Severus, 1013, T)

Severus imagines what could have been.

A greater woman has faith by @sugarsnappeases (Lily/Sybill, 3849, T)

they're exes. they're miserable. things ensue.

Song: The Prophecy

Take the Glory, Give Everything by MidnightStargazer (Narcissa & Regulus, Narcissa & Draco, 743, T)

Regulus dreams of glory, longing to make a name for himself and be remembered. Eighteen years later, Draco does the same. Narcissa knows better. Song: Clara Bow

The Prophecy by eggmett (Regulus/Tom Riddle, 1013, M)

The prophecy—For neither can live while the other survives. The thing that had finally sent Tom over the edge. Confimation that he would fall before he had even finished rising. But the omen sentenced us to death that day too. Tom and I would never be free of each other as long as we’re both alive. We’d never be able to live inside this toxic world we built. It didn’t stop me for yearning for it. I’ll always be desparate for his attention. Desparate for his touch. Song: The Prophecy

Promises, Oceans Deep by @sixlane (Regulus & Sirius, 2357, T)

Regulus lies awake on the night of his 14th birthday, running through the plan over and over in his mind. He’s had years to work it out, make sure it’s perfect, but tonight it becomes real, no room for messing up. If he’s caught, he’s dead. He knows this like he knows his own name. A truth his parents have been telling him since Sirius left. or, Regulus executes his escape to meet his brother, but he must soon face the fact that he's been left behind. When Sirius finally turns up, he's seven years too late. Song: Peter

A Dangerous Man by MidnightStargazer (Lucius/Narcissa, 695, T)

Lucius has blood on his hands and owes his allegiance to Lord Voldemort, but Narcissa doesn't care. Song: I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

what if he's written "Mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind? by @thistlecatfics (Sirius/Regulus, 1013, E)

Regulus and Sirius are brothers. Regulus and Sirius are no longer brothers. Or, a culmination of fatal fantasies. Song: Guilty as Sin

Peter by Faelostinwoods (Marlene & Peter, 229, G)

Peter had been angry, angry at his friends who treating him worse as the war got worse, angry at dumbledore for not protecting them, angry at whoever created his story because it was getting worse. He had joined the death eaters, in a desperate attempt to change his outcome. Yet, he didn’t expect it to go this far. Song: Peter

my absence makes headlines by @plecotusauritus (Sirius-centric, 459, G)

the scandal was contained the bullet had just grazed at all cost keep your good name you don't get to tell me you feel bad Song: Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?

Forever Guilty, of Sin by @nena-96 (Hermione/Ron, 2148, M)

Hermione is alone inside the tent, as she tried to read The Tales of Beedle the Bard, but her memories blend in with the guilty fantasy that was being with Ron Weasley. Song: Guilty as Sin

loml by @emlovessid (Regulus/James, 1013, M)

It’s only been a few weeks since he’s been able to put words to it, but the feeling itself has been there from the beginning, from the first twining of hands and hitching of breath as their lips brushed, growing and growing until– “I love you,” James sighs, the words tumbling out as he breathes freely for the first time in weeks. “You might be the love of my life, actually.” Song: loml

So Long, London by @tealeavesandtrash (Sirius/Remus, 1013, T)

The silence hangs heavy, dead air suffocating. The sky outside is covered in grey clouds, casting the kitchen gloomy shadows. The pathetic fallacy is well-suited at least. Sirius’ eyes burn into him, staring him down over a cup of tea. It makes Remus’ skin crawl worse than the half-healed scars that litter his arms and back. He focuses on buttering the dry toast. Three months ago Sirius would have had breakfast ready for him when he came home. Six months ago he was still begging to spend the full moon together. Song: So Long, London

Burn My Life Down by @thecasualauthor (Andromeda/Ted, 637, G)

She sees everything about her life burn to ashes. Song: But Daddy I Love Him

Slow Quicksand, Poisoned Blood by @nodirectionhome-ao3 (James/Lily, 913, T)

After learning of the prophecy that threatens to doom her son, Lily begs the cosmos to spare him from this fate. Song: The Prophecy

I might just love you 'til the end by @ncoincidences (James/Lily, 1013, G)

James and Lily have been together since high school, seven years with each other. Recently, they have been drifting apart... will they make it till the end? Song: imgonnagetyouback

These Fatal Fantasies by MidnightStargazer (Bellatrix/Tom, Bellatrix/Rodolphus, 606, M)

Bellatrix is faithful to her husband. Technically. But her heart belongs to the Dark Lord. Song: Guilty as Sin

Mine Alone to Disgrace by MidnightStargazer (Andromeda/Ted, 474, G)

Andromeda tells her parents she's engaged to Ted Tonks Song: But Daddy I Love Him

I Can Do It With a Broken Heart by MidnightStargazer (Narcissa centric, 770, T)

Narcissa won't let anyone see her cry, even when her heart is breaking. Song: I Can Do It With a Broken Heart

but now we’ll curtail your curiosity (in sweetness) by @chemicalwildflowers (Andromeda & Tonks, Andromeda & Bellatrix, 215, G)

Nymphadora finds an old photo. Andromeda wants to protect her, for just one more day. Song: Robin

The Black Dog by ghstboys (Sirius/Remus, Remus/Tonks, 154, unrated)

Sirius watches Remus and Tonks from the afterlife. Song: The Black Dog

But Daddy I Love Him by @miss-grimwood (Bellatrix/Rodolphus, 146, T)

Bellatrix tries her best to avoid an arranged marriage with Lucius Malfoy in favour of Rodolphus Lestrange. Song: But Daddy I Love Him

said you’d come and get me but you were twenty-five (and the shelf life of those fantasies has expired) by @effiepotterisamilf (Regulus & Sirius, 295, G)

It’s Sirius’ 25th birthday and he’s not coming back for Regulus. Song: Peter

#hp fests #hp taylor swift #marauders #the tortured poets department #fest recap

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thesherrinfordfacility · 5 months

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what the hell is going on in hell

this is essentially a braindump of ramble-y thoughts because the situation going on in hell is currently my new sub-fixation. a couple of things mentioned/shown in s2 would indicate the position that hell is currently in, and i dont think it's inaccurate to say that they appear somewhat stretched.

first up, we meet shax in ep1; she and crowley appear to have some kind of arrangement (ha) going in, where they are exchanging information - shax keeping crowley abreast of the goings on in hell, presumably so he can monitor his (and by extension - aziraphale's) safety being now an exiled retired demon... and crowley seems to be helping shax to assimilate to life topside, by means of teaching her behaviour that will mean she blends in more with humanity in her new role.

i did a post on bits of this scene, and on shax in general, that looked at how shax appears to be working somewhat with the favour of the higher-ups, possibly to the point of an unofficial informant, that would help her climb the career ladder. but i do wonder how far her allegiance lies, and actually how much she seems to know. in any case, a couple of things about this scene:

hell either doesn't know, or refuses to change, crowley's address for his post - they're still being sent to the flat in his name, and not his new abode, the bentley. furthermore, it's possibly even the case that hell hasn't even acknowledged that crowley has been replaced - they won't accept/recognise shax's signature.

however, shax appears to be very firmly in position as his replacement, and presumably has been for at least a little while. there's been a gap of 3/4 years between s1 and s2, so allowing for hell to be slow on the uptake in replacing crowley (as well as being initially shit-scared of him re: the holy water bath), plus shax is still learning things/remarking on how easy the job is, let's be really generous and say she's had the position, and the flat, for around six months. realistically though, estimating from her question about the boiler which, from crowley's tone, seems to be something that happens periodically, id say it's likely more around 1-3 months.

in any case, that's plenty of time for hell to update the records, right?*

same as crowley remarked in s1, it seems to be universally understood in hell that the ends justify the means; doesn't matter how things are done, just that they are. if shax echoes this sentiment, it supports that it must be true; hell doesn't give one shit about her interacting with crowley. this is supported by 1827; whether you look at it that crowley didn't secure elspeth's soul for hell through suicide, or that crowley was caught being good/nice in the general sense, either way it's strongly suggested that there is a consequence for him not doing the job; doesn't matter how it's done, only that it is.

ergo, hell doesn't care that shax is interacting with crowley, nor that she appears to be recruiting him as an intelligence source (despite his lackadaisical branding of 'traitor'), only that she does what she's ordered to. the issue is though, what are shax's orders at the moment? which leads me to the next one:

she lists three things, two of which don't appear to hold much importance to crowley, or at least he's not surprised by them. the first - he's still in hell's bad books: cool, not a surprise. the second, however, is the 'half rations' reveal. this brilliant post talks about this, because... well, what would demons feed on? or be interested in having, that holds any kind of importance to them? more on this later*. regardless though, crowley seems... to halfheartedly mull over the information? like its interesting, but not a major surprise? maybe it is, maybe it isn't.

the third thing though is the one that crowley perks up at: that something has happened in heaven. shax appears to admit that she doesn't know the details, and needs intelligence, which crowley brushes off. now, the thing that perplexes me is that - well, the conversation between michael and beelzebub hasn't happened yet, right?

could be that there has actually been a previous conversation between michael and beelzebub, where the news that gabriel has disappeared was revealed - and what we see above is a second conversation about the matter, now that it's gotten a little more urgent (hence the BOL threat)

or, that the two different scenes are out of chronological order... which honestly would be just plain weird.

the first option is possible, that beelzebub found out about gabriel from michael in a previous conversation (and told shax), and the one we see above is a follow-up.

but, in the crowley/shax conversation, shax doesn't actually seem to know that it's anything about gabriel, just that something's going on. so presumably, beelzebub doesn't know at that point either - not until the interaction above with michael. at which point, where did shax get her information from? how would shax have known shit was going on in heaven - even without the specifics - before it seems that even beelzebub knew? does shax have a different in-road with heaven?

(at which point, the only ones that appear to know about gabriel going missing, when it happens, is the metatron, michael, uriel, and saraqael - unless there's been a containment breach/someone else accessed the file? make of that what you will.)

*coming back to this point, on why hell hasn't gotten round to, or been bothered to, update the record that crowley is no longer an employee/in his flat, i think this is directly related simply to hell being short-staffed. i think it was mentioned in a BTS video somewhere, but the set design in hell purposefully included lots of files and folders to directly suggest that there is a huge backlog; whilst the higher-ups may be aware of shax replacing crowley, it doesn't appear to have reached the administrative offices:

as for why hell is short-staffed, ive toyed with it in previous posts/rbs but it would suggest that:

demons are disappearing - im thinking along the lines of the book of life, or just straight up being killed

demons are leaving - perhaps another mass rebellion?

demons aren't leaving but the numbers of the damned keep increasing - this, i think, is the most likely.

we don't know what the deal is with heaven, but presumably there is a separate facility for heavenly souls, and all we see in the show are the offices. in any case, it would kind of make sense that, if heaven is in fact taking its fair share of souls, even if lower-choir angels are attending to them... well, it's unlikely to extremely hands-on, is it; souls can be left to their eternal rest with minimal angelic involvement.

demons, however, are actively torturing their share of souls, such as is the purpose of hell, and this is definitely more hands-on; at which point, demons are going to be overworked/understaffed as the soul population increases. demons are only made from fallen angels, so the staffing situation is only going to get worse - hence why in s1, it was revealed not only that an estimate of 10 million demons exist, but that they would be pretty pissed about being told to go back to work. armageddon was meant to wipe out humans altogether (putting a stop to the ever increasing human population and therefore number of deaths), and bring about an eternal victory for one side or the other.

this, however, assumes that heaven is taking their fair share. i don't think it's necessarily the case that they're not (as i said, we haven't actually seen any areas where human souls exist in heaven - only the higher offices), but it's certainly possible that they're not, and they're all going to hell. at which point, why wouldn't heaven want more souls? isn't that ultimately the point of aziraphale and other earth-stationed angels? to bring about god's plan, but also sway humanity to the good? or is that the point - that human souls going to heaven or hell is inconsequential, and all that matters is the complete annihilation of one by the other?

1941 shows a bit more context for hell, in that we have what appears to be the main lobby, with multiple admissions demons (including shax and furfur) and there are chutes for transport into the lower floors/departments.

one thing i did notice as a small difference between 1941 and 2023, is the lights; this could be purely ambience/a single set design choice, but compare the scene where furfur has an audience with dagon, and the crowley/beelzebub chat - the lights in latter start flickering, like they are faulty or there is a power supply issue. this not appearing to happen in 1941 would suggest that the situation has gotten worse between these two points in time. it could just be for the ambience as i said, absolutely, but i think the line re: rations* could potentially be linked here.

another thing that interested me in 1941 is this:

pretty intriguing that the camera deliberately focuses on this, right? instead of continuing to track behind furfur? if it is Of Interest, what is the hourglass keeping time in, or counting down to? it could be the apocalypse, but if you consider the proportionality of sand in the top to the bottom, vs. the time that has passed since the Beginning vs. the next 78 years until armageddon, that seems... well, disproportionate? so could it be ticking down to something else, or does the hourglass time something, and it's just been recently flipped? at which point, why is it framed as so significant?

*returning to the "half-rations" point, there has to be due credit to this post by @that-ineffable-devil, it's such a good point; what do demons care about - is integral to their existence, and is essentially in short supply - that rationing would be necessary? crowley doesn't seem overly intrigued by the notion, but shax idly considers it important enough to share when prompted. op suggested that it's power; that there isn't enough (given that miracles appear to be drawn down from heaven/up from hell) to go around. op gave the great example of the ceiling leak in s1, but if the flickering lights, the broken lift mentioned by eric in ep5, and the excess backlog of filing in s2 is also anything to go by - yeah, these things could be solved with a demonic miracle or 'magical' intervention... so why aren't they?

gabriel cautions (putting it politely) aziraphale at some point around 1793 around using up 'frivolous miracles', which suggests that heaven was/is having a similar issue (or, alternatively, it was simply a power flex; to keep aziraphale in his place, so to speak). however, when we look at the archangels' reactions to the 25-lazarii miracle, their main concern understandably, given the plot, is what it signifies (ie. it's too coincidental to have occurred at the same time as gabriel going AWOL)... but not so much that there isn't enough power to allow a 25-lazarii miracle to go unchecked. instead, it seems like the sheer scale of it is just completely written off, that heaven doesn't actually care too much about how much power it seems to have partially drawn from heaven (ie. if it's a 50/50 split, 12.5 lz), and they seem to write it off like petty cash.

so tl;dr, hell might be having a power issue, but heaven doesn't appear to be sharing in it. i don't think it's anything to do with human souls fuelling miracles, because by the same logic (which i accept may be completely flawed. in fact id stake my life it is) the pool of power should be increasing, rather than decreasing - if more and more souls are being funnelled into hell and heaven respectively. so what if instead there's a leak somewhere - what if heaven is syphoning off power from hell? and when did the power leak start happening - was it to do with the failed apocalypse? is it actually nothing to do with heaven, but instead that because the soul population keeps going up and up, the power they actually have to contain and maintain them is stretched really thin? power can't be spared for lower-priority shit like filing and maintenance? why isn't heaven having the same issue? why is power seemingly finite, and where does it come from? does power actually come from god? or does it directly parallel to humanity's faith (and, presumably, the dwindling amount of it) in god? but heaven is closer to god, so they haven't yet been hit with the shortage?

this is still flummoxing me slightly - if there even is any answer to be had/if there's anything deeper to be read here - but the post is already long enough that it's probably best to leave it there... ideas very much welcome!!!✨

#good omens #getting this one out the drafts its burning a hole #dont have a hell tag yet so sticking this under #heaven theory #this requires more intellect than my two braincells bumping off each other and occasionally creating sparks

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fandoms1queen · 1 year

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A Ride With Fire

A/N: This is my first HOTD/ GOT work. Let me know what you think and if I should dabble more.

Warnings: NSFW, Public Fingering, Allusions to Sex, Possible Dub Con

Truly remarkable how one could get in such a position. Two months prior, you would have never dreamed to be standing where you now stand. Filthy, covered in blood, smelling of smoke, directly in front of him. You let your eyes remain on his boots as you bend at the waist, praying for mercy. You’ve heard the rumors and as his boots scuff in the dirt floor as he approaches, you shiver.

“Look at me.”

It’s a command. A command from your prince. You right yourself and let your eyes slowly travel up his body. He’s in his nightwear. Loose pants with a night shirt that is half unbuttoned. When your eyes finally meet his one you swallow thickly, but muster the courage to keep his gaze.

He doesn’t speak as he observes you, taking mental note of the fire in your eyes, even in such a predicament. The creature behind you grumbles and moves her head as her Master comes into her peripheral vision. A puff of warm air moves both of your hair and you shake as Vhagar’s head turns to you both.

He watches curiously as Vhagar bumps her strong nose against your hand and then continues to push her brow against your arm until your fingers slowly run over her scales, your eyes never leaving his strong form.

“Interesting.”

He takes this moment to step forward and your eyes drop once more to his boots. You watch his hand come into your line of vision, curling a finger under your chin, and tilting your head so you look directly in his face. So close you can feel the air when he exhales wash over your face.

“Vhagar has never allowed any woman near her after the travesty of Lady Laena Velaryon. So tell me, lady, what makes you so different?”

You shiver as his whole hand encompasses your jaw and firmly holds it in place.

“I do not know my prince. One day I accidentally fell in the pit, certain I would meet a fiery doom, but Vhagar protected me from the others and since then I have been bringing her tokens of my gratitude.”

He hums and he studies your face, looking for any indication that he has been lied to. His mouth parts as he gets ready to determine your fate, when suddenly your body is pushed by a giant force and your mouth collides with his. A jolt runs through your body and you shiver as your entire body warms. You pull away quickly and he stares at you, appalled.

“I apologize, my prince. Something…”

“It appears Vhagar has chosen my destiny. From this night forth you will answer to no one but me. Is that understood?”

You stare at his cold face, heart racing. No one had ever told Aemond Targaryen no, not even Vhagar herself. How could you possibly deny him?

“Yes, your grace.”

**********

The morning sky is just beginning to turn gray as you pull yourself from bed and stand by the window. Two months ago you were the youngest daughter of a not well-known lord. Two months ago the Queen sent an envoy to invite your father and family to join them until further notice at the Red Keep. Behind closed doors, your father speculated they wanted his allegiance especially since the old king was withering.

The Red Keep had been very welcoming. No part of the castle was off limits to your family. Your father would commonly go to meetings with the Queen, leaving you able to do as you pleased. In the beginning you walked the castle halls, mapping out where rooms were. It became abundantly clear that your favorite room would be the palace library. The floor to ceiling windows made the entire room glow at all times of the day, dust from the books flying through the glow constantly, and the eternal quietness is what drew you there. You could get lost in between the aisles for hours and no one would know you were there. With various hideaway alcoves, you could try a new one every day.

This is where you first saw him. He was sitting at a desk between the far wall of the castle and a bookshelf that held most of the histories. His head was bent over the parchment he was writing on. You watched as he went back and forth between three opened books, furiously writing as he did so. His long white hair gave him away much sooner than his eyepatch.

Prince Aemond was different from the others. You had seen him a few times briefly in the training courtyard when you went to observe the knights. He fought as furiously as he was writing now. He never talked with anyone for long and was never seen with a consort. Not a favorite it seemed, as the Queen rarely talked of him per your father.

Not wanting to disturb his studies, you make a move to go behind another bookshelf and your flats scuff the floor. You look up quickly and his cold, blue eye is already on you. You do a quick bow and look away.

“Forgive me my prince, I was just looking for a book. I will take my leave.”

He hums and before he can yell at you, you skitter away like a scared mouse. Since that day, you made a point to avoid that alcove at all costs.

“Are you well my lady?”

You jump as your handmaiden stands beside your elbow.

“Sorry, I was just thinking of what to do today.”

After what happened last night how do you go on as normal? Maybe he would just ignore you like the others. Maybe he was just chafed due to you being around his dragon.

“Dress me please, I wish to stroll in the gardens before I break my fast.”

Your lady in waiting bows and then begins to rummage through your dresses. You go behind the screen and begin shedding your slip. The one you wore last night is stuffed under your mattress to be later disposed of. Whatever would she think if she saw all the blood. Never would she believe it was from a raw turkey you swiped from the kitchens for Vhagar.

After dressing in a simple yellow gown you let her open your chamber doors and begin the descent to the gardens. Your father might very well have a stroke if he knew that you banished your guard from walking outside with you, but it had to be done. You did not wish to be disturbed.

“I will scream if there is any danger.”

Wolfred frowns, but obeys nonetheless. He stops, taking a post by the paneled door that you quickly walk out of. As you step out, the rising sun is just coming over the stone walls and hitting your face. The mist is rising quickly and soon the temperature will be almost too warm for any comfortable strolls. You begin to stroll through the hedges, a maze of sorts that was made when Prince Aegon was small for his amusement. As the sun rises slowly, different flowers begin to open. You bend to smell a lovely orange one when you hear a snap of a twig. You jump and lean up, backing up away from the noise. You only make it so far before hitting something.

You whirl around quickly, ready to punch a would-be attacker if needed and stop altogether. Aemond smirks at your clenched fist and then tilts his head, looking you in the face. All the bravery you just had withers away and you feel your face pale. Not because you are scared of Aemond, but because you almost punched a prince. And maybe you were a little scared of him too.

“My we are full of surprises aren't we Lady Y/N.”

“Forgive me my prince, I did not realize you were here.”

You look at the ground and flinch as he begins to walk a circle around you, a predator stalking its prey.

“Precisely how I wanted it.”

“Do you make it a habit of sneaking up on unchaperoned ladies of the court my prince?”

Your tongue gets ahead of yourself and you internally groan. You could lose your head for the words that come out. You feel him stop at your back once more, his body heat radiating into your thin dress as his chest presses against your spine. You feel his nose trace a line up your neck and shiver as he begins to talk.

“Only ones that make a habit of roaming the castle grounds during the hour of the Owl.”

Your breath catches in your throat and Aemond lets his hands glide down your sleeves until they rest on the tops of yours.

“What’s the matter my lady? Cat got your tongue?”

You yelp as his tongue glides down the side of your neck and onto your shoulder. Just as quickly, his hand wraps around your mouth and he sinks his teeth into your flesh. You groan and feel yourself lean into his grasp, slamming your eyes closed.

He hums as he detaches his teeth and then licks the imprint, slowly putting your dress back into place and turning you at the same time. Your anger takes over as you meet his smirk and you push his chest roughly.

“How dare you.”

He looks startled and then huffs a laugh, a sound you never thought you’d hear from the prince.

“You can’t just go around biting people like they’re yours to claim.”

“Can’t I? I’m the crowned prince. I get whatever and whoever I want whenever I want. I think it’s only appropriate after I found you with MY dragon last night. Did you know that’s considered treason? I will only tell you once more, you are mine. You belong to me.”

You get ready to open your mouth when you notice the door to the Keep open and your handmaiden stepping out, looking for you. When she sees who you are with her jaw drops and a blush comes over her cheeks. Aemond must notice your attention has wavered and he follows your gaze as she reaches the beginning of the cobblestones.

“Excuse me my lady, I did not realize you were being received.”

You open your mouth to argue, to tell her anything but, but Aemond gives her a glance and then turns back to you.

“I look forward to you joining me with my history lessons in the library this evening. It’s always wise to read up on dragon histories, no?”

You fake a smile for the sake of propriety and curtsy. He gives you a small bow as well and then walks deeper into the garden. You sigh and immediately begin to walk back to the keep, ignoring the burning eyes of your handmaiden.

“My lady, do you need a chaperone?”

You whirl and she stops in her tracks, eyes going wide.

“Absolutely not. The prince is meaningless and is not courting me. It is merely two like minded individuals studying.”

She curtsies and you turn, praying she believes it more than you do.

***********

You do not speak a word to Aemond until your guard is dozing in the far corner of the library. The afternoon light is spilling into the windows, making everything cozy. When you hear the soft snores, you turn to Aemond who lounges on the ottoman across from you.

“Prince Aemond I really must ask what I am doing here.”

You watch as he leisurely bends the corner of the book and closes it, laying it on his outstretched legs. He stretches, arms bending behind him and you avert your gaze from his rippling muscles.

“To be truthful, this morning I had a notion of just severing your head and serving it on a platter to your father while he breaks his fast. However, once I saw the way Vhagar responded to you, well, I had to find out for myself what is so special about…you.”

Your temper flares and when you finally look back up at him, you can tell he’s proud of himself for getting such a reaction.

“Well my prince if I am so mundane then please let me be on my way.”

He stands quicker than you thought humanly possible and walks over to slide in the space beside you on the ottoman you perch on. You stiffen at the proximity, but will yourself to be motionless.

“That fire is exactly why I am demanding an audience. You interest me, my lady. No normal lady of the court can just walk into the dragon pit and live to tell the tale…multiple times.”

He leans forward and cups your cheek. Your heart pounds in your chest and you take a moment to look at his face closely. Prince Aemond is by no means unattractive. Yes, his face is marred with a scar extending from his scalp to his cheekbone, but it only adds to the disguise he plainly wears. Even now, with so little engagement you can see that rumors are just that, rumors. He easily could have killed you this morning before the sun even rose, but he did not.

“Have you never wondered what it would be like to ride a dragon? What pleasures I could show you.”

You assume he’s still talking about dragons, but his hand begins to slide along your leg and your knee bounces away from him.

“My prince,” you say huskily.

He smirks and glances at the sleeping guard. Using his weight as leverage, he grabs your knees and lifts your legs, pulling them so the rest over his thighs. He seats himself fully beside you and to any person walking by, it would appear you two were comfortably reading together.

“Relax Lady Y/N, let me show you what you’re missing.”

His hand remains on your covered legs, but a finger gently skims over your covered shin. He reopens his book and seems to preoccupy himself. You try to do the same, opening the herbal medicine book you’re reading, but stop reading as his hand cups your exposed ankle.

You glance back up at him, but his face remains placid, reading his history book. As you glance back to your guard, you feel his hand glide further up your skirts.

Eyes as round as moons you meet his gaze, finally. You could scream right now, alerting your guard to this scandal. Something stops you though. As his hand cups the meat of your thigh and scoots you closer, draping your knees over his, you let your body relax. He smirks and then looks back at his book, fingers gliding over your chemise. You know there is a small wet spot right in the middle and as his fingers find it you watch as his lips twitch.

Ashamed you try to close your legs, but the brutal strength of his arm between them is the only thing stopping you.

He looks over as his fingers glide past the last barrier and a single finger slides through your folds. You bite your tongue, not wanting to alert Wolfred, and clench a hand into the cushion you sit upon. No man has ever touched you, a maiden by all accounts. This will ruin you, but as his fingers find a small part of your anatomy you had yet to discover all thoughts fly from your brain.

Aemond returns to his book, but begins to furiously circle the small button he found. Your legs shake and you close your eyes hastily. Your breathing sounds ragged and you try to calm yourself, but not even the thought of discovery can keep you from clenching your legs together and groaning as you reach your peak.

Aemond is quick to extract his fingers and turn his head to you, the picture of shock encompassing your face.

“My Lady! I do believe you were having a nightmare.”

Wolfred stands quickly, blinking his sleep away and begins to walk over to your side. Before he can get too close, you glance at Aemond and watch as he licks his fingers nonchalantly and then lays his book down.

“No more spiced wine for you it seems.”

Aemond smiles at you and pats your ankles that he somehow managed to scoot back over his knees. You extract them and try and right your skirts, trying not to look so disheveled after your first ride with fire.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond smut #vhagar #aemond one eye #aemond x reader smut

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thatbxolivia · 1 month

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could you do one where the reader regresses during a mission? With clone wars era anakin?

🎀 anon

you have the best ideas omg

you woke up this morning feeling incredibly little. you pushed it down, not wanting to impede on anakin’s plans. he had this mission planned for weeks, needing you specifically as your father, a political figurehead on Tattooine, was making issues for the senate and giving troubling signs of separatist sympathy. you had no contact with your family, especially not your father, and preferred to keep it that way. however, you were beginning to feel useless and when this opportunity arose, you jumped at the opportunity.

you had tried sending a message to your father, asking him to PLEASE stop this madness, but you received no response. you knew he would be angry with you when he saw you, but anakin would be with you the entire time.

you sat in the passenger seat of anakin’s ship, silent as he manned the controls. he looked over at you.

“i will turn around right now, i’ll take you home. i’ll find someone to watch you, just say the word.” he told you, smiling softly. you shook your head.

“i feel kinda weird… but not enough to regress.” you lied. “i’ll be okay to wait til we both get home.” you told him, giving him a small smile. he nodded, you thinking he believed your lie. you felt better knowing he wasn’t worrying about you instead.

soon enough you landed on the desert landscape near mos eisley, departing the ship and tracking through the market to your fathers workshop. when you found it, you stood in front of the door, sighing.

“i don’t want to do this.” you muttered to yourself, hoping anakin didn’t hear. he did.

“i’m serious. anytime, even if we’re in the middle of speaking, just tell me. give me a sign, i will take you home and have someone watch you. i don’t care what the order says, you do NOT have to do this.” he said, grabbing your shoulders and making eye contact with you. you shook your head, not wanting to be a big baby. you stood your ground before, you would now as well. you were going to do this.

“no, anakin.” you said, and he backed off hearing his name. he nodded and smiled sadly at you, not used to hearing anything other than “daddy”.

“okay.” he said. “then let’s go, baby.” he said putting his hand on your back and guiding you in.

the workshop was small. roomy, but small. it was well lit with multicolored lanterns and lampposts, giving the room a very colorful view. you remembered it. you remembered being young, before your parents separated, and spending many a night in this workshop. you loved it. loved.

“most people use common sense when they don’t get a reply to a message and leave the recipient alone.” you heard a man scoff behind you. you turned around and deadpanned at him; lo and behold, in all his glory, your father. “then again, guess you weren’t very bright.” he grumbled.

“i’m very intelligent, thank you.” was all you said in response. “we’re here to talk about-“

“ugh.” he cut you off, exiting the room. “boring.” he called over his shoulder, making you scoff. anakin spoke up.

“you know of me?” he asked, holding his head high.

“the great hero of the order.” your father said sarcastically, not actually impressed. anakin’s response was to use the force to drag your father over to him, choking him in the process.

“i’m not as kind as your daughter. if you refuse to speak with her, you get me instead.” was all anakin said, keeping a dead serious expression. your father nodded, gasping for air when he was let go.

“these the kinda people you hang with?!” he asked incredulously. you on the other hand just shrugged.

“they’re nice to you when you’re nice to them.” you replied, earning a small snort from anakin. at least he thought it was funny, unlike your father.

“what do you even want?! why do you care where my allegiance lies?!”

“because your dragging this entire planet down a separatist sinkhole, i won’t have it, none of us will!” you said, raising your voice. “tattooine has for far too long been engulfed in war and slavery and the LAST thing it needs is separatist ownership. for fucks sake, dad, what the hell happened to you?!” you yelled, anakin behind you being dead silent. he’d never seen you this way. “you are my father-“

“i gave you life and that’s IT! you are no daughter of mine!” he yelled back, making you cry immediately.

“fine! die then! take the whole planet with you and die a lonely and miserable old man. i HATE you!” you screamed louder than anyone. the room fell dead silent.

“glad the feelings mutual.” he said with venom in his voice. “get out!” he pointed towards the door and kicked over a box. the noise startled you and you cried.

“daddy..” you sobbed.

“i’m not your father!” he screamed, pointing at the door again. “fucking go!”

you ran out into the streets, earning a few weird looks, but most people seemed sympathetic. your heart was breaking. what a stereotype, a young girl needing her boyfriend to be her caregiver because she has daddy issues. for fucks sake.

“i’m here. i’m not him, i’m here and i always will be.” you heard behind you, feeling a hand on your shoulder.

“i never should’ve come here.” you sobbed, shaking your head. anakin wrapped you in a tight hug from behind, his chin resting on top of your head.

“even when you’re just a baby, you’ve always wanted to do everything yourself. i see it now, you don’t want to be big or anything like that. you want to be independent so if someone leaves you, it doesn’t hurt. but you can depend on me.” anakin said. “you can always depend on me, i am NEVER going anywhere. not without you.” he said, whispering the last part. you cried at his words.

“daddy,” you began. “i lied. i shouldn’t have come here i’ve been feeling off all day.” you fessed up. your daddy was not angry or upset with you, he had a very calm look on his face, very sympathetic.

“i know.” he said. “you needed to come to this conclusion yourself, there was nothing i could’ve said.” he told you. “but i’ll tell you what we’re gonna do.” he began, walking you forward, back towards the landing spot. “we’re gonna go home, i’m gonna get you in a bath and changed, then we can have kol come watch you, or maybe obiwan, whoever. and i’ll come back here and deal with this, and you’ll never have to hear about him again.” you both stopped. “sound like a plan?”.

“yes.” you said, kicking a rock. you felt better already, in your headspace and your daddy already making plans to help you out. your shoulders relaxed.

“good.” he said, continuing forward with you in tow.

“i hate him.” you said.

“no, you don’t. you love him and that’s why it hurts. you won’t heal until you acknowledge that fact.” your daddy told you softly. you knew he was correct.

“why is he so mean?” you asked, feeling tears form again as you walked. you could see the ship ahead of you in the shipyard. you sighed.

“i don’t know, that i wish i knew.” he said sadly. “but i do know that it gets better, losing a parent. or in your case, going no contact. the first few days are hard,” he confessed, not wanting to lie to you. “but i’ll be there. then, it’ll get better. and better, and better, until you learn to live with that loss. it will always hurt if you think too long about it.” he said. “but you learn to live with that pain, and you learn ways to cope.” he said, smiling and reaching the ship. he opened the door and let you enter first.

“daddy?” you called out, looking back at him. he had walked in and was packing something.

“hm?” he hummed, stopping packing and looking up. he always gave you his full attention. always.

“am i too much?” you asked and he smiled.

“never.” he said, knowing you needed to hear it. it was the god’s honest truth, and he’ll tell you any day you need to hear it again.

🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀

#fanfic #archive of our own #star wars agere #anakin x reader #cg!anakin #anakin skywalker #daddy!anakin #star wars anakin #anakin x you

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ostricx · 30 days

Text

RITES OF SYSTERYA - PAUL X READER X FEYD

SINOPSYS:

In the realm of Thalassa, where the matriarchal order dictates tradition and honor, where war is the law, the next Empress is thrust into a tumultuous journey of love and duty. Tasked with the ancient rite of seeking a spouse beyond her planet's borders, she finds herself entangled in a complex web of affection and allegiance. As she navigates the treacherous waters of romance, torn between Paul, scion of a prestigious lineage, and Feyd, a formidable warrior, she grapples with the delicate balance between personal desire and social expectation. Duty, love and lust.

Warning: violence, blood, gore, romance, posterior smut, +18.

The characters are aged up to 18, Paul, and 20, Feyd. You are a 18 year old, too.

Prologue

Look past what lies before your eyes and you shall see the truth.

Duty serves humans well, keeping the animalistic instincts at bay, on a leash, for humans are not as evolved as they think they are. You knew that, you knew the importance of duty for your planet, for your sisters, for yourself...

Yet, the need to surrender was running deep into your core, calling you away from everything you know. Who are you to disrespect traditions? To see yourself above the duties that your mother and sisters had and are going to have to fulfill? Are you so selfish that you saw yourself as better than them? Above the needs of your family? Have you always been that shallow? That selfish?

Looking into the guts of the time kept you humble, YOU ARE NO ONE, but a small piece on an ocean of possibilities. A shadow of the past and a small peek in the future, something that doesn't exist and never will.

So, you walked, head high, the metal of your armor tickling at every step, it has never been so heavy, like a thousand of pounds attached to your body. Yet, you walked with grace, not as the warrior you are, but as the Filha you should be from now on. The War is the future, the present is filled with another kind of duty.

Not even a glance at the surroundings, you couldn't turn your head, look at the red ocean below, the waves hitting the palace's walls, you could feel it tremble, or was it you? It didn't matter either way.

Duty comes first, humanity comes first. Your mother will die, than you, and your sisters , and your daughter and her daughter. What lives is your name, your legacy, your culture. You are nothing.

Your sisters, all sat on the floor, stoic like a stone, following every step you took with their own eyes. Not even they can defeat time, no amount of training is enough to win over time, over death.

The Empress of the Systerya Matria, Zephyra Synara, stood up on her orlop, looking down at you. Piercing red eyes, staring into your soul. And you couldn't help but to think "Not even Her can defeat time, can overlook traditions, not even Her ignored duty", and, yet, you wanted to, you craved to run away, to live careless, to ignore what life wishes for you.

- Bow before your Empress.

You did as she said, not even a thought, the act is natural as breathing. When the Matriarca commands, you shall obey, for you're not different from your sisters. You are all the same, came from the same seed, will go to the same land.

One knee on the floor, on the other, your head sited. Taking your sword from its sheath, you extended your arms and offered Her your weapon. Never looking up. What is yours, is Hers, nothing less, nothing more.

- My life is yours, the Sovereign Matriarch of us all, and I shall fulfill my duty with honor and intelligence, for that is the reason of my existence. Please, bless my travel for it shall be long and full of dangers.

You couldn't look up, but you knew they were all looking at you, taking on every movement your body made, voluntary or not. They were judging you, judging your surrender to the traditions, judging how trustworthy you really are. So, you focused your mind into the bloody waves bellow, into the wind hitting your hair through the open hall, into the familiarity of the Urutaus singing in the sky, their laments so familiar to your ears. Fear is the mindkiller, breath in, breath out, when there's no fear, only you remain, an open mind for clear thoughts.

Duty calls you and you know its importance, so, why are you scared? Breath in, breathe out.

Then, you felt a hand pushing your head higher, the Empress locked Her eyes with yours, impossible to decifer. Regal in every bone. Breath in, breathe out.

- I bless your journey, my kid. As each one of us, you shall be successful and bring glory to our sisterhood.

She offered her hand and pushed you up for an embrace. All of the sudden, hundreds of voices started to yell "Glory to Systerya! Glory to the Matriarch! Glory to our Filha!", chanting together, blessing you, promising: duty brings glory. It's your time to shower us with your glory.

"Glory to our Filha! Glory to our Filha!"

The Empress freed you from the embrace, you didn't register when it happened, but there she was, holding your own sword at the top of your head.

- My voice is the voice of the One Above All, my words, are Hers, touching my skin, is touch Her sacred body.

The tip of the sword drew blood from your head, the red tinted your temples, your nose, your mouth. You tasted your own blood, it entered your mouth as you kept it open, regenerating what was lost.

- We bless your journey, Filha, for that's your purpose.

When the sword was offered back to you, the metal facing your core, you took it, drawing blood from your hands.

It was done. Now, you are no longer a Systeriarian or a Thalassian, you are no one until you give them what they want. For everyone out of the Empire, you are the heir of Systerya, a honarable daughter and the best warrior an army could ask, but for your sisters, for your Empress, you are nothing. You worth nothing from now on, not until you fufill your sacred duty.

"Glory to our Filha! Glory! Glory! Glory!"

Don't look around, don't look back, don't look down. Always to what lies in front of you.

Glory! Glory! Glory...

I don't want to write a character devoid of life, I want something the fits the Dune universe, that has substance to it.

#dune x reader #dune #dune part 2 #feyd rautha x reader #feyd x reader #paul atreides x reader #paul x reader

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