#and we shall conquer the world if but slowly
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✨ pairings: eris x reader
🔮 preview: (Y/N) Vanserra was cunning, ambitious, and confident, all wrapped in a beauty that could rival Lady Autumn’s. For forty-nine years, she had been hidden away, in Autumn Court, much like a diamond, waiting for the day she could come out and shine. And so, when the threat of a Death-God loomed over Prythian and Beron slowly became a concern, (Y/N) uses her beauty and intelligence for a ploy bigger than herself — one that included sitting her husband down on the Autumn throne, Eris Vanserra.
📣 trigger warnings: Inner Circle bashing (I love the IC guys, but we’re in Autumn Court territory now)
🔎 rating: PG-13 | 🔏 word count: 5.6k+
💜 masterlist | series masterlist + notes: I thank my lovely nonnie from here for suggesting a Roxana-inspired reader from the manwha, How to Protect the Heroine’s Older Brother! I loved Roxana as a character and I found it very difficult (as many of you know, whom I’ve talked to about this story) to write a character who is cunning and intelligent as my character reference. This series was a beast to write (and I am still writing the other parts of it, so please do be patient) — I wanted it to stay canon as much as possible, but also give a story that would reveal the mysterious nature of Autumn Court. Please do give feedback about the first part of this series! I would love to hear your opinions and thoughts for the next part!
And I thank both @prythianpages & @thesunloveschips for their amazing help with this first part (I apologize to them profusely at times for bothering them)
“Be my eyes, be my ears. Be the wallflower that lurks in the breeze. Be the viper that stings all my enemies. We shall become one, to conquer our shared destiny.”
The burn of the bargain tattoo seared onto your skin, a ring of fire that surrounded your left ring finger. It took you a moment to look at it, admiring the dark ink that stained your skin before much larger hands enveloped yours. Looking up, you stared at familiar amber hues as he slipped the golden band on that finger, hiding the tattoo. Lifting your hand to his lips, he pressed a kiss on your knuckles his smirk widening slightly.
“You will be my secret, (Y/N)… My weapon within the walls of Autumn Court…”
“Do you know who she is, Az?” his High Lord’s voice echoed in his head as hazel eyes focused on the female that seemed to have garnered many lingering gazes.
“I unfortunately do not, Rhys… My shadows do not whisper anything about her. I—-” there was hesitancy in his words, “I didn’t even know she existed.”
The Spymaster was stumped, to say the least.
In his centuries of being Night Court’s Spymaster, wielding shadows to his very will, Azriel had every confidence that he knew everything that happened in Prythian. Nothing was able to pass him nor his shadows — he knew all the intel, the gossip. He knew everything that might be deemed a threat to his court and used that knowledge to his advantage.
But it seemed like something slipped, because there was something… more like someone, that passed his shadows; and that was you who was on the arm of the Autumn Court Heir.
Azriel felt like he should have known you, should have heard the whisper of your existence at least. You were accompanying the Autumn Heir to Winter Solstice, for Mother’s sake! How could someone as vital as you slip passed his shadows.
He waited, waited for those slivers of darkness to whisper something… anything about you. Even just your name, the Spymaster would have been pleased to know.
But nothing.
His shadows lazily moved underneath him, not a care in the world about the female that seemed to have warped his mind in chaos.
You had become an enigma to the Spymaster.
And it was something he would go to the ends of the world to unravel.
He continued silently observing you from his position next to his High Lord on the dias, watching as you pressed yourself close to the Heir side, your hand tucked into the crook of his elbow, leading you through the throughs of people that packed themselves into the grand ballroom. He watched as your rouge dress, a stark contrast to the endless sea of black and blue, swayed around you — like a fire that danced in the darkness of the night. Even Eris stood out in his regality in a similar shade of rouge, Autumn Court colors seeping out from every inch of him.
The two of you maneuvered through the halls like flames blazing through the darkness — and Azriel was worried that you would burn his home down.
And when he watched you lean up to the Heir, whispering something into his ear before a boisterous laugh escaped the Autumn Heir, he sent his shadows across the floor, motioning them to listen in — and all the Spymaster hoped was to get a tidbit of anything relating to you; even just the sound of your voice would have been better than nothing.
However, hazel hues watched as his shadows retreated quickly as they had flocked. And it was only then did Azriel had seen it.
A barrier.
One that was so powerful and so thick that his shadows couldn’t even penetrate. He watched as the tendrils of darkness slithered away, retreating back to their master, hearing their cries of pain as they had attempted to break through the barrier.
That was the reason no one knew of your existence — why Azriel never heard of you, why his shadows never picked up your name.
You were a secret — Autumn Court’s well-kept secret.
The shimmer of the barrier caught the corner of your eye, watching it reflect different colors under the dim lighting. You raised a brow, eyes darting around before noticing the lonesome shadow retreating back to its master. You watched as that lonesome shadow slither through the crowd, slithering back to the Spymaster’s side.
“Did that bastard just —-”
You fought back a chuckle, gently squeezing Eris’ forearm — a silent confirmation about the attempted attack from the Night Court Spymaster. You felt him stiffen underneath your touch and you didn’t need to look to know that the Heir was pissed.
Beneath his mask of well-practiced composure, you felt his body thrum with rage and fire — it swirled and bubbled underneath his skin, radiating up to your palm that rested in the crook of his elbow.
Eris had always been quite overprotective over you, thus the millennial old barrier that had kept your existence a secret from all of Prythian — including from the nosy Spymaster of Night Court.
You were not surprised by the Shadowsinger’s actions — curiosity killed the cat, as many would say. And who wouldn’t be curious about you, the female that hung on the arm of the Autumn Court Heir? You had expected something similar to happen, but it seemed that the Spymaster sending his shadows to investigate you did not sit well with Eris.
No one dared to attack you while in his presence.
“Eris…”
The whisper of his name from your lips paused the rage that bubbled from the Heir — amber hues glancing your way. A delicate smile tugged onto your features, another melodic hum escaping your lips as you reached up and caressed his forearm — a gesture that showed you were perfectly unharmed — the barrier had done its job, keeping you safe. It was a gesture that always seemed to calm Eris down — especially when it came to your safety, a silent confirmation you were safe. You felt that bubble of rage and fire simmer, the Heir calming underneath your touch, and felt his hand slip on top of your own, his thumb gently caressing the gold band on your ring finger— a tall tell sign that he was holding himself back from confronting the Spymaster.
“Ah, Eris!”
Annoyance rolled off from the calm of Eris’ demeanor and you fought all urge to tease the male as you watched from the corner of your eye Keir making his way to the two of you, behind him his daughters in tow.
With a well-practiced smile, Eris gave a bow of his head towards the Steward, you mimicking his actions as surprise tugged on the Steward’s features, his steps paused to a halt at the sight of you at Eris’ side.
“Ah, Keir, pleasure to see you again. I thank you for inviting me to such festivities…” Eris greeted the male with a light smirk tugged onto his features — the normal look of arrogance from the Autumn Heir.
Keir had stiffened at the sound of his name, without any lordship from the Heir, as he bit back a reply with a strained smile, “Of course, Lord Eris. We are indeed partners… I had wanted to introduce you to my daughters—-” the male gestured to his side as his daughters gave a bow, their cheeks pink with a light rose color, evident even in the dim lighting.
You bit back a laugh, glancing up at Eris to watch that smile twitch at the corner of his lips — the annoyance very evident despite his mask of pleasantry.
“Unfortunately…” The Autumn Heir had cut off the Steward, giving the ladies a bow of his head. Eris, no matter what was taught to be a gentleman, especially to females. His mother taught him that. “I do not need a partner tonight for the dance… As you can see, I do have a lovely lady on my arm, and it would be such a shame to ignore her presence… don’t you think, Keir?”
A pleased smile tugged at the edge of your lips at the quip — not only did the Steward ignore greeting you, he had ignored the fact that you… without needing to be announced, would be the one accompanying the Heir for the evening’s festivities. And yet, there he was attempting to set up partnership with one of his daughters.
Keir’s eyes shifted from the Heir to you, his hues shaking as he looked at you.
“My apologizes… my lady, I was not informed that the Autumn Heir would be bringing a partner with him tonight—-”
“—-She has been with me the whole night, Keir… and she has not stepped away from my side. I would think, with your… keen eyesight, it would make it clear that I did not need a partner tonight.”
“—- Ah, yes… I apologize…” the stutter was evident in his tone as he quietly shooed away his daughters, watching longing gazes at the Eris before moving through the crowd. Keir straightened up and gave you a formal smile, before clearing his throat, “It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady —- before the festivities start…” What a quick change of subject, “My High Lord would like to speak to you…. if you do not mind following me…”
And with that the Steward turned around, his cape bellowing behind him as he maneuvered his way through the crowd… towards the dias where the Inner Circle had perched themselves for the night.
You watched as Eris rolled his eyes, an annoyed sigh escaping his lips, while you let out an airy laugh, bracing yourself on his arm as you leaned up, your breath against his chin, “Tired of being the most eligible bachelor, Autumn Heir?” you teased him.
It had always amused you on how many marriage proposals Eris had throughout the time you were together, and how many he had thrown those letters into the hearth of your shared bedroom at Autumn Court. You had always teased him about it, much to his own dismay after being with you for several millennials — you always found something to tease him about.
Eris raised a brow, turning his head so that your breaths intermingled, “I had not been a bachelor for centuries, my butterfly… It pains me to pretend that I am every time I step outside Autumn Court.”
You gazed up at him, staring in those amber hues through your lush lashes, “Well… tonight we’ll make that clear, once and for all, won’t we?”
A wide smirk tugged onto his lips, as he let out a satisfied sound before straightening up and guiding you through the crowd, steps behind the Steward to the dias. The two of you were a perfect picture of Lord and Lady, graceful and regal in every way.
Pull… pull… pull…
Eyes snapped towards the dias, your body going ridged for a few moments as you felt the familiar magnetic tug — the call of the blade. Eris paused in mid-step, feeling you go still, his head snapping towards you as eyes betrayed his indifferent expression — worry pooling at its depths. No words needed to be communicated between the two of you, you had known each other for centuries… you were honed into each other’s emotions, habits, gestures… you two could read each other so easily, despite the mask you have learned to put on for centuries.
Your eyes shifted from each member of the Inner Circle, trying to find where the magic pull was coming from, landing on the velvet box that was in the lithe hands of a familiar fae — the eldest Made Archeron sister, Nesta. You felt your magic flicker underneath your skin, answering the pull from that velvet box. You knew that the blade was in that box — the whole reason why you had decided to accompany Eris to the Winter Solstice, stepping out of Autumn Court into the wider world of Prythian, risking your identity, and exposing your person to the Night Court. That box, that blade was your sole reason.
Regaining your composure, you pressed yourself against Eris’ arm, placing your hand on top of his own as you silently motioned him to continue moving forward. The Autumn Heir hesitated, but when he glanced into your eyes and saw the resolution in them, he couldn’t argue. He gently squeezed your hand and started to move forward again before leaning down, pressing a kiss on the side of your head to whisper, “Did you find it? The blade?”
You glanced up at him and just gave him a light smirk, gently squeezing his hand. Another laugh escaped him, drawing attention towards the two before he pressed another kiss on your cheek, “You are magnificent, my butterfly…”
The Autumn wind blew a chilled breeze through the large windows of the Forest House. The sky was still in orange, red, and yellow hues as the moon started to peak over the horizon — the seasonal courts never saw true nightfall, the skies still glittering with their court colors. It had just grown dark enough for sleep to fall on its inhabitants.
Slipping onto the large balcony of your shared bedroom, you pressed your hands against the cool marble railing as you watched a monarch butterfly flutter down from the skies. Magic wrapped its fragile wings as you allowed it to gently perch on your left eye, a sigh escaping your lips as you closed your eyes — allowing its magic to seep into you. Visions passed behind your eyes, your all-seeing gaze shifting from Autumn Court, zipping through the seasonal courts and into the depths of one particular solar court — Night Court.
A rusty hammer struck metal, sparks of light flying into the air as the loud ring echoed in your ears. You watched delicate, yet calloused fingers grip the hilt of a forged blade — a power from those very hands seeping into the metal, one that mimicked the ancient Cauldron, which was lost. The blade breathed fire, one so similar to your own that you felt it pulse, no… push against steel — calling out to you, as if it knew you were waiting, watching from afar.
Shifting your gaze from the mysterious Made blade, your eyes wandered to those fingers, traveling up their arm to their features — the eldest Made Archeron sister. You had heard of the eldest sister of the High Lady of Night, once a human, doused in Cauldron power that made her into fae. Her powers were unknown to all, and yet — here she was, creating a weapon from her unknown powers.
“It looks like she isn’t quite as lovely as the winds have whispered…” you murmured, mirth in your tone as you continued to watch the vision unfold before your eyes.
“Who isn’t as lovely?”
Arms wrapped around your middle, large sturdy hands pressing you against a much sturdier front. Another sigh escaped your lips, eyes fluttering open, breaking the connection of magic as you watched the butterfly disappear in a waft of red and orange mist. Your hand raised, swirling the colors in the air before it dissipated. Twisting your neck, you glanced up at the Autumn Heir, his features illuminated by the colorful autumn sky.
You had always thought he looked ethereal.
His complexion glowed something dark that always stirred something inside of you. How his auburn hair beautifully framed his chiseled features and how his amber hues glowed — his innate fire burning through those irises.
Those amber eyes caught your own, his brow raising as his question was left in the air. A chuckle was pulled out of you at his look, “The eldest Made Archeron…”
Eris’ brows scrunched in confusion, as your comment did little to answer his question. He knew that there was much more hidden behind your simple words about the Made fae, much more than you were willing to tell him without him prodding you more. You lifted a hand to gently smooth Eris’ brows, a feeble attempt at a distraction — for both you and him.
“What did your butterflies show you, (Y/N)?”
Eris was able to read you so easily, no matter how many walls you had put up, the Autumn Heir was able to see right through them. He had learned how to read you for centuries, ever since the two of you were children — ever since that fateful day.
You felt him grasp your hand, tugging it away from his face, giving your palm a caress, causing a sigh to escape your lips.
“She forged a blade that breathed fire, one similar to our own… I do not know the purpose of said blade, but I am quite sure it has to do with that bloody bargain you made with that High Lord…”
It was no secret to Eris that you had despised that bargain between the High Lord of Night — a bargain to help him claim the Autumn throne from his father. You understood that it was under stressful circumstances — the looming doom of war with Hybern, needing allies during the war. However, you had known that Eris didn’t need that bargain, not with anyone within the Forest House walls, especially not with pesky Night Court bats — not when he had you to help with the coup within Autumn wards.
You needed no help from overgrown bats with what you had promised Eris all those millennials ago.
“(Y/N)…” he called your name, pulling you from your thoughts. Eris held your waist and turned you in his arms, pushing you against that marble railing, forcing you to look up at him.
Raising a brow, you tilted your head up at him.
“If they made a blade for us… then we’ll use it — take advantage of it,” he asserted, “Let’s play into their little game for now. Make them think they’re on higher ground, that they have control — but when in reality, we’ve always known. And you never know…” A smirk tugged on his lips as he leaned down, his breath brushing against the apples of your cheeks, “That blade might be useful for our plan…”
A light, airy chuckle escaped your lips, “You’re asking me, Eris… out of all things… to act dumb in front of those bats?” amusement laced in your tone.
He chuckled as well, pressing his lips against your cheek, “I’m asking you, my butterfly… is to act dumb with me. We do better everything together, right?”
You hummed, eyes fluttering close, your lashes brushing against his cheeks. Your arms slid up his more muscular ones, hidden beneath his sleeping tunic, wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing yourself against him, “Then that means, Autumn Heir… you will have to bring me to that Winter Solstice ball if you want me to act with you.”
Eris froze underneath your touch at the mention of Winter Solstice. He had mentioned it a few times to you in the past several weeks — especially when Keir kept sending secret correspondence, begging him to join the festivities. The correspondences had annoyed Eris completely, any chance the Heir had was to verbalize his annoyance to you about it — and you had been very amused to hear it each time. You were to let him go on his own to the Court of Nightmares — it was something you didn’t need to be a part of. You could remain in Autumn, continue to secretly monitor his father and brothers, gain followers, and be the wallflower that you have always acted as.
But, with this newfound information and the idea of the Night Court using the bargain against Eris, you knew you couldn’t just be passive with the invitation.
Opening your eyes, you looked up at Eris who had a conflicting look — you knew why he had been so hesitant.
You had never stepped outside of Autumn Court — no one knew of your existence outside of the Court. Despite being in Autumn Court for millennials, Prythian didn't know, the other Courts didn’t know of you. And yet, you were willing to sacrifice your identity, your role in his bigger plan to gain something as simple as a blade that a Cauldron Made Fae made.
Eris didn’t like the idea, it didn’t sit well in his thoughts.
Reaching up, you pressed your thumb between his brows, smoothing the skin there, “You will get wrinkles at this point, Eris…” you mumbled, eyes focusing on the skin there before catching his gaze, “I have done everything I can here, Eris…” your words were cryptic, you knew Eris would understand — you couldn’t risk it, not when the walls, trees, the winds in Autumn would listen and give away your plan.
“… I have asked you to use me, Eris. All those millennials ago, on that day… so use me. Make me the weapon I made myself into. I can't help you now if I'm in Autumn —-”
Sure, you had been the one to limit your influence solely on Autumn Court, but if Prythian called, then you are willing to step into the larger world.
Your eyes showed your determination, your willingness to devote your entirety to him as you've done for years.
A reluctant sigh escaped his lips as he forcibly pressed his lips on your forehead, “Alright. I will bring you… but you must remain by my side the whole night. No one will rip you away from me..”
An amused chuckle escaped your chest, leaning up to press your lips against his pulse, “So overprotective, Autumn Heir. It sounds like you're too fond of me…”
You felt Eris shake his head at your teasing, tugging you closer before maneuvering you back into your shared room for the night.
The bellow of Keir’s introduction pulled you out of your thoughts, watching the older male give a sweeping bow — overdramatic and with flair — his words of congratulations echoing throughout the large ballroom, the citizens echoing the same sentiments. As the elder male stepped aside, you stepped up along with the Autumn Heir, giving an elegant curtsy, while Eris gave a regal bow at his waist.
“And allow me to extend our congratulations, High Lady of Night, on behalf of my father and the entirety of Autumn Court…” Eris bellowed, his voice of regality, “A Fae child being conceived, what a miraculous announcement to give during Winter Solstice…”
You drowned out the conversation between Eris and the High Lord, barely focusing on the pageantry between them. It was rare for you to be so out of focus on the situation. Normally, you were in tune with your surroundings, focused on the now; however, all you and your magic could focus on was the call of the blade that thrummed inside that velvet box. You watched as lithe fingers grip the box tighter, and your eyes shifted to the eldest Archeron sister
“—- Before you go, Eris…” your delicate ears perked up, eyes shifting back to the High Lord who waved his hand allowing a dark wind to carry that velvet box through the air, handing it into Eris’ awaiting hand, “I offer you a gift, a solstice gift. A friendly token… between a High Lord to a future High Lord…”
Eris’ gripped the box tight in his large hand as you felt the muscles underneath regal clothes grow taunt.
A quip, from the High Lord. A disguised reminder of the bargain between the two of them.
Gently squeezing Eris’ forearm, you urged him to open the box, to ignore the jab from the older male. You felt those muscles relax underneath your squeeze, his mask of indifference returning onto his features as he opened the velvet box.
Inside that box, laid on plush pillows, was an ornate dagger — it was roughly the size of the Heir’s forearm, its handle weaved from iron as if it was cloth, an intricate design of wood and fire etched onto the metal.
One that was similar to the vision that you had seen weeks ago.
Eris picked up the blade by its serpentine handle, raising it, and watched the silver and jewels shine in the dim lighting. It was a beautiful blade — much more than you had seen in that vision. From the corner of your eye, the two of you locked gazes a light smirk tugging on his lips before the air around him flickers.
Eris’ magic throbbed in the air, as you watched flames appear around the blade — surprised screams echoed around you, as all eyes were on the pair of you — the center of attention. Eyes glanced at the Inner Circle, watching the guard dogs step in front of their masters to protect them, your keen gaze watching how the Captain pulled the eldest sister in his arms. A curious brow raised before you gazed back at Eris as he poured his power into that blade, disappearing into the silver in a flash of bright light.
A groan escaped the Autumn Heir, his head tilting back, a long breath escaping grinning lips. It took a moment’s breath before he regained his composure, rolling his shoulders back before his gaze returned to the blade, turning the blade in his hand as the metal changed, the color from a simple silver to a dark black — an obsidian color that swallowed up the light. A mixture of auburn and saffron tinted the onyx-colored blade, changing the way the light hit it — a blade mimicked a dark fire, swirling underneath the dim light.
Eris flipped the blade, holding it by the blade as he turned his body, facing you and staring at you with those brightly colored hues — flame and light within those irises — handling the blade to you, a nudge of his chin, gesturing you to take the blade.
A light chuckle escaped your lips, fighting the urge for your knees to buckle at the look on the Heir’s features — it was an alluring look on him, the power that raged in his eyes, in his veins — as your gaze shifted down the column of his throat and followed the patterns of his auburn suit to the blade in his hand. With lithe fingers, you grasped the hilt and you felt a shiver run up your spine — the mix of Eris’ power along with the power that already surged through the metal, Nesta’s power — no… the Cauldron’s power — was intoxicating. The call and pull of the magic that pulsed in the blade was strong and you felt your own magic answer the call, causing you to tilt your head slightly as you stared down at the blade, your magic pulsing underneath your skin.
What a dangerous weapon… You thought as you shifted slightly out of Eris’ hold to move the slit on your skirt, where an empty sheath was strapped onto your leg, sliding the blade into its new home — a perfect fit.
“I had been meaning to ask…” The High Lord’s voice reached your delicate ears as you glanced up, fingers trailing up your thigh before pressing yourself close to the Autumn Heir again.
“Who are you?”
Eris gently squeezed your waist, as you stepped out of his hold and you gave a sweeping curtsy, one as dramatic as Kier’s earlier.
“Late introductions, I apologize, High Lord of Night…” your tone had mirth and sarcasm tied underneath a layer of elegance and regality, “My name is (Y/N)… (Y/N) Vanserra.”
You glanced up at the High Lord through your lashes, watching his façade of arrogance and boredom shift into surprise — his face showing his thoughts:
Vanserra? Beron does not have any daughters.
Nor did he take up a second wife.
Vanserra? On the arm of the Autumn Heir…
Bright violet hues glanced between you and the Autumn Heir that stood behind you, before locking onto your gaze — your colored hues staring into violet hues. In defiance, you tilted your head up, as you straightened from your curtsy.
And that’s when you felt it — those tendrils of his powers creep near your mind, you couldn’t help but frown, your body stiffening, your hand gripping your gown tighter.
In your entire lifespan, you have never encountered a Daemati — especially one as strong as the High Lord; you had thought that the barrier would protect you from such intrusion of your mind, but it seemed, even that was futile against the power of a High Lord Daemanti.
Not breaking your eye connection with the High Lord, your eyes glowed an eerie ruby hue as you focused on that tether, that connection that he forged between your minds, to those coils of darkness that invaded your mind.
How. Dare. He.
And with a flick of your wrist, your mind grew walls of flame, surrounded by fire hounds who growled and attacked those shadows — successfully pushing him out of your mind. You heard a faint yell from the High Lord, and you saw his hands sear with flames, his hands combusting as he frantically tried to pat it down on his leathers. However, the feeling of lightheadedness started to cloud your mind, and you teetered on your heels before you felt Eris’ arms wrap around your waist, pressing your back against his chest. Eyes pinched close, panting, fighting off the heaviness you felt throughout your body.
It had been simple enough, you had thought, to push the High Lord’s power from your mind — but it seemed you had used too much power, in such a quick second that your delicate stature was giving up. Your mind grew hazy, spots of darkness appeared in your vision and you fought every urge to just pass out right there that you barely noticed the commotion that surrounded you.
Feeling Eris’ grip on you tighten as you heard him growl, “Did you just try to get into my wife’s head, Rhysand?! How fucking dare you!”
That had fully ticked off the Autumn Heir. Not only did the Spymaster attempt to attack you from afar, but now the High Lord tried to invade your mind. Two attempts at your life were too much for one night for Eris — and he threw his well-practiced self-control out the window.
Shrieks from the onlookers reached your ears as you peeked an eye open, noticing a bright light that illuminated the dark room. Heat radiated onto your skin, feeling Eris bring you closer to him, protecting you from the ring of fire that surrounded the both of you, separating the two of you from the Inner Circle. Blinking the haziness from your mind, you watched through the flames as the General and Shadowsinger stood in front of the High Lord and Lady, weapons drawn against the two of you.
“Eris…” you breathed out, grasping his Autumn colored suit, “Calm down…”
His head whipped towards you, that fiery gaze staring down at you, “But he tried to invade your mind, (Y/N)…”
A confirmed hum escaped your throat, straightening yourself in his hold, “I know… But I got him out. That’s all that mattered… And don’t blame the barrier,” you panted, blinking away the spots at the corner of your eyes, “His power is immune to it I guess…”
You stared up at him, your scarlet hues dimming back to your normal colored ones. Amber hues stared into them, assessing your condition, hesitation marred his features.
“Bring down the flames, Eris….” you softly commanded him.
His eyes flickered between you and the Inner Circle before he followed that command, the ring of fire flickering until it had gone out. You did not bother to appear composed — you could appear fragile — play into the heartstrings of the citizens of Hewn City.
The High Lord of Night Court attempted to invade the mind of Autumn Court Heir’s wife.
Word would spread throughout all of Prythian — sympathy and pity would be whispered your way while scrutinizing words would be thrown towards the High Lord.
Even if you despise showing such vulnerability to anyone let alone the Inner Circle, you can use it to your advantage.
You pressed yourself closer to Eris, playing the soft wife that just got attacked by a High Lord. Eris’ arms wrapped around you, as he bared his teeth against the Inner Circle.
“You attempt to attack my wife in your Court, Rhysand, and yet you have your dogs try to protect you? We have not laid a finger against you nor your Court, and you have weapons drawn against us,” anger vibrated in Eris’ tone. He knew how to play your games, he knew exactly how to play them with you — and yet the anger, the fury that lurked in his features were genuine, “You have no damn right to try to lurk in our heads, even if you are a High Lord.”
The General and the Spymaster shifted in their stance, their eyes foggy before stepping aside to reveal Rhysand, cradling his now scarred hands — that was what he got for trying to attack you in front of his people.
“…I…”
“I do not accept your apology if you ever were to have one, High Lord…” surprise tugging onto his features at your declaration, “Myself and my husband arrived on Night Court soil as guests, and yet we are treated as enemies. I have done nothing to you to cause you to try to invade my mind.”
Whispers surrounded you, words of ill-intent for their High Lord reaching your sensitive ears.
She’s right. They have done nothing to them, and yet he tried to hurt her.
The Autumn Heir had every right to act the way he did. It was to protect his wife from Rhysand.
I never did like him… He has trapped us here in the Mountain while he and his people live in Valeris.
He’s nothing but a hypocrite. He says that he welcomes all, but he hurts others as he sees fit.
You fought back a smirk, staring at the High Lord as his features flickered — his mind racing on trying how to turn the situation back to his favor. But you knew, both of you knew, it was too late for him to do anything.
Things have turned in your favor, much like you had hoped.
“I have no need to stay for the festivities any longer, Rhysand. You have attacked my wife twice in one night, your Shadowsinger earlier tonight and now you. I do not feel safe within the walls of your Court and I do not feel safe for my wife’s safety either…”
With a growl escaping his throat, he gently maneuvered you into his arms, lifting you bridal style, turning on his heels as he stepped out of the Court of Nightmares, the crowd parting to make way for him as flames surrounded the both of you. You felt him pause mid-step, and you glanced up at him with a raise of your brow. Eris looked down at you, his face contemplating for a moment before he looked over his shoulder, back at Rhysand.
“—-And the bargain between us is over High Lord… Especially after tonight. No one dares to hurt my wife in my presence.”
The Autumn Heir winnowed the both of you out of Night Court in a flash of fire and light.
And back into the depths of Autumn Court.
👑 General Tag List: @prythianpages @strangelygreat
🕯️Series Tag List: @imma-too-many-fandoms @assriels @kiarathace
#acotar fanfiction#acotar x reader#a court of thorns and roses#acotar fic#eris vanserra x reader#eris vanserra#eris acotar#eris x reader#eris vandaddy#autumn court#( .series : bleeding crowns )
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_ YOU’RE STUCK WITH ME (chapter one)
Main Navigation || Please follow @your-eternal-library for all my fanfiction updates.
PAIRING — Steve Rogers x f!Reader
SUMMARY — As his perfectly normal civilian neighbour, you’ve always been secretly curious about the Captain. Getting to know him while trapped together in your building’s elevator, however, definitely wasn’t on the agenda.
WARNINGS — None.
YOU’RE STUCK WITH ME
CHAPTER ONE
HELLO, NEIGHBOUR
Steve Rogers stands before the sleek new digital coffee maker on his kitchen counter, his fingers fumbling with the confusing array of buttons.
“Come on,” he mutters under his breath, blue eyes narrowing in concentration. The machine beeps in protest, flashing symbols that might as well be hieroglyphs for all the sense they make to him.
Back in his day, he reminisces as he jabs futilely at the modern contraption, all he needed were some grounds, water, and a bit of heat. So, why does this have to be so complicated?
But the LED display just flickers mockingly at him before flashing an error message, which only adds insult to injury.
As Steve stands there, engaged in his silent battle with technology, his phone vibrates on the counter. It’s from Natasha, and for a minute, he thinks he’s being called into work. Instead, her words pop up on the screen like tiny grenades:
Natasha: Have you asked out Sharon yet?
Natasha: She’s cute AND a nurse—practical for a guy who gets shot at for a living.
He sighs, pocketing his phone as he leans against the counter. Sharon is cute, he relents, but asking her out means stepping into unfamiliar territory.
He tells himself that he can’t afford any distractions, thinking about his duty to SHIELD, about the literal shield that feels a bit heavier with each passing day. After Peggy, Bucky, the ice… he didn’t feel like it was fair to drag an innocent civilian into this crazy life of his.
A lot of the time he still feels like that awkward and skinny Brooklyn boy, who had never even danced with a woman before, let alone go on a date with one. They had always looked at him with a sad mix of pity and derision, would much rather hang off the arm of someone like Bucky.
And despite his now… enhanced, shall we say, appearance, the looks of admiration he often gets now just seem to ring hollow.
He knows Natasha means well. She understands the weight of history he carries in his heart, as she’s got her own demons she fights to keep at bay. So, Steve never faults her for encouraging him to have a life outside of work… even if she doesn’t necessarily take her own advice.
Well, he knows shockingly little about her, so he doesn’t know that for sure.
Shaking his head, Steve decides to give the coffee machine one last chance, pushing what he hopes is the right combination of buttons. The machine whirrs affirmatively, and victory seems to be within reach for one hopeful minute—until it sputters pathetically and then goes dark altogether.
“Ah, forget it!” Giving up, Steve unplugs the machine, deciding that he’ll just have to conquer the world of espresso another day.
Clad in a simple t-shirt and jeans, a far cry from his Captain America garb, he decides to head downstairs to the Starbucks on the first floor.
At least there, getting coffee is easy.
Just down the hallway, you stand before your dresser, rummaging through its contents.
When your hand finally emerges victorious, it’s clutching the lone survivor of your clean underwear collection—a single polka-dotted testament to your chronic procrastination.
Laundry day cannot be ignored any longer, not unless you wanted to start fashioning outfits out of your dish towels.
Resignation slumps your shoulders as you zip around your apartment to gather the scattered attire strewn across the floor, each garment snatched up and tossed unceremoniously into the gaping maw of your laundry basket.
With the basket brimming, you wedge a hip against it to keep everything contained. You move slowly towards the door, putting on a pair of slippers, only to be stopped by the sound of whimpering coming from your couch.
“No, Chuck,” you remind your unofficial roommate, a German Shepherd who goes by the name of Charlie—or Chuck, as you prefer to call him. “You can’t come. You are banned from the laundry room after ‘the incident’.”
But Chuck’s tail continues to wag hopefully, his large brown eyes shining, his head tilted to the side in the very picture of innocence.
You soften, but only a touch when you remember him peeing all over your freshly washed, neatly folded laundry, meaning you had to start all over again.
“Nice try, buddy,” you give him a half-hearted glare. He lets out a soft woof, and you swear you see judgment in his eyes as he looks at your leaning tower of laundry. Well, what does he know, the big oaf? He licks his own butt. “Couch fortress until I return, okay?”
The hallway outside your door is its usual self—stale air, the faint smell of someone’s burnt breakfast, and the muffled echo of someone’s TV playing what sounds like a rerun of I Love Lucy.
As you round the corner, the hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention. There, leaning against the wall with a casual grace that flies in the face of a man who leaps out of planes and fights aliens for a living, is him.
Captain America himself, in all his star-spangled glory, waiting for the same ride down to the lobby.
Oh, no. Nnnnope.
You are not taking the elevator with Steve freaking Rogers, carrying an arm full of your unwashed unmentionables while dressed in old PJs and a tank top. There is no way!
The urge to run back to the safety of your apartment is strong, where neither your couch nor your dog have arms that could bench press a Buick.
Maybe you could step back behind the corner, make a run for the stairwell, or maybe even pull the damn fire alarm—
But it’s too late. He’s heard you, already twisting slightly at his narrowed waist and tossing a glance back at you over his shoulder.
“Hey, neighbour,” he smiles. Your heart does an unwelcome somersault.
Well, at least the elevator ride would be quick… right?
« Series Masterlist || Chapter 2 »
Taglist — My taglist has been discontinued. Please follow @your-eternal-library and turn on notifications for all my fanfiction updates.
Notes — So, to encourage my writing, I’ve decided to make each chapter exactly 1,000 words, no more and no less. It’s harder than I thought it would be! But it also takes the pressure off to hit a longer word count and helps me manage the pacing. I hope you enjoy!
#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x female reader#steve rogers x f!reader#steve rogers series#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers fic#steve rogers fluff#steve rogers x you#summer’s fics
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Lilia Vanrouge x Reader
✿Briar's Secret [Part 2]✿
Notes: Angst, fluff? Meleanor's little sister!reader, chief strategist!reader, human-fae war era.
Contains my twst OC Midnight.
Midnight followed his beloved princess out to where the humans stood their ground, fully armed and ready to take the lives of whoever approached them. Midnight himself was a human, in fact, he was the very one who had once attempted the assassination of princess [Y/N] Draconia. The very princess to whom he had sworn complete allegiance and the fragile threads that vested his life.
He had grown up an orphan, forced into an occupation as brutal as assassination by his own race. His arctic blue eyes had held the coldness of all the winters, kindness was far from what he had. He had taken the lives of numerous fae kind, his hands were stained with deep smears of their blood that would unceasingly serve as a recollection of his immoral deeds that were nothing short of perverseness.
Yet this very princess whom he had been told to assassinate, had forgiven him, even taken him as one of her own. She'd made him the leader of her private military squadron- the Midnight Solstice. He remembered not what his real name was. Midnight was the name the princess had given him. And it was the only name that held any sort of importance to him.
He'd foolishly fallen in love with her. He, a lowly human, had fallen in love with a fae princess. He had fallen into the trenches of admiration for a woman who would never be his as was decided by the differences between their races. He could never dare to tell her he loved her.
Not only that, the princess held someone else close to her heart. [Y/N]'s heart belonged to the Right General of Briar Valley's army, Lilia Vanrouge. Midnight understood quite little of why she loved him, given how they constantly bickered with each other, but he could not bring himself to intervene in his princess' love. He would follow her to the bitter end. That was his duty as her trusted assassin.
Face to face they now were, with the Knight of Dawn, Henrik and the rest of the Silver Owls in glistening metal armour over which the light bounced off to yonder.
"We come to negotiate peace. If you make no move, we shall listen to your demands." [Y/N] declared. Even at a time like this, Midnight's princess did not hesitate to show kindness and forgiveness to those who were willing to resonate with her pleas and respond in kind.
"Peace?! With you damned witches? You think you have any right?!" Henrik yelled in quite the odious manner. Midnight clicked his tongue, having to hold himself back from wrenching off that insolent pig's head.
"Then you leave me no choice." [Y/N] scanned the grounds. She had bought enough time apparently. Midnight could also spot Princess Meleanor, the General and his aide running with the egg into the dense woods of Briar Valley.
"Hah! As if an immoral creature like you is capable of anything!" Henrik jabbed a short, stubby finger at her. Midnight had to inhale to calm himself. No stabbing big ugly pigs with foul mouths and no cutting their miserable fingers. He had to wait for [Y/N]'s orders.
The fae princess took in a deep breath before whispering. "Remains of the worlds beyond, assist my need to conquer that which has been sought. Reign of Conqueror." [Y/N] staggered, Midnight helping her up as a dense, crimson mist dissipated across the grounds. Midnight shielded himself and [Y/N] with his defense magic, watching as every soldier fell into a deep sleep, one which could never be awakened from. No true love, no magic could awaken them. They'd rot into bones in this very manner. They were as good as dead.
[Y/N] coughed up blood, falling to her knees. The usually sprightly princess looked now pale and sickly, the pieces of her face shattering into red fragments and slowly scattering into the winds.
"Princess!" Midnight crouched beside her. His heart felt as if it had been beat with a hammer. Panic flashed in his eyes. He had known this would happen. He had let her do this as he was in no position to disobey the orders of one who had saved his life.
"Midnight." The princess clutched the arm of her trusted assassin weakly. "Did I do good?" Her other arm had already broken away into crimson fragments, the very same shade of crimson as her beloved Lilia's eyes. Her torso was now slowly breaking up into similar pieces.
"Of course, princess." Midnight struggled with his words. He disliked how awkward he was with words. He disliked how he could not say the words [Y/N] wished to hear. He hated himself. So much.
"I love you, Midnight. Tell big sis Meleanor I l-loved her. Baul and the castle staff too." the princess spoke weakly. She was now almost gone. "I wish I could see big brother Levan one last time." she choked on a sob. The assassin's heart broke as he held her. He struggled to breathe, struggled to come to terms with reality as he watched his loved one perish in his arms.
"And tell that idiot Lilia-" [Y/N]'s face was now fading away. "He had better marry me. I love him."
And with that, the last of her was gone. Princess [Y/N] Draconia, gone from this world, without a trace.
✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿
NOTE: DO NOT REPOST OR PLAGIARIZE MY WORK!
#malleus draconia#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#lilia x reader#lilia vanrouge#lilia vanrouge x reader#diasomnia#diasomnia x reader
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The Gift of New Life
Oneshot – (FFN) (AO3)
Summary:
Zane had sacrificed himself to save all of Ninjago from the Overlord. Pixal didn't go to his funeral. Instead, she went to the factory floor. Zane, of course, didn't stay dead, but how he lived afterwards is yet a mystery... Here is one possible story of his rebirth.
aka, "How Zane Defied Death (the first time)"
Anyone who said "time flies" was wrong; Pixal had never felt time move so slowly. It had only been one week since the end of the Overlord's second attempt to conquer Ninjago, but the world had changed immeasurably, and no less with the loss of Zane. As she thought about it, Pixal's half of a heart hurt. The very one who had given her his heart was gone– cast into oblivion– dead and buried. Even the memorial service was too painful for her. Instead, she stayed in Borg Tower and watched as the Ninja said their last words to their beloved steel friend.
"You are Zane, a droid like me. What does Zane stand for?"
"I stand for peace, freedom, and courage." How long it had been since Pixal heard those first words. They almost felt like she was hearing them again.
"Your hardware is outdated, and your processor is slow and incompatible." Pixal once didn't know how beautiful Zane's differences were; once, she mindlessly followed her code, not her heart.
"Why are you so different?" If only she could hear that voice speak to her again. She turned from the window with an unnecessary sigh (no droid could need air) and looked toward Borg's computer. There, on the screen, was a camera feed from the day she met Zane. Hadn't it been blank just minutes before?
"We're all different, but I don't feel so different around you." Pixal gasped and ran to the computer.
"I wasn't recalling that voice! Zane, is that you?" Was he here, with her, somehow? She had always known him to perform small miracles.
"You are vital to me." There it was, the voice speaking again.
"You are vital to me," she replied, quiet. "Are you… here?"
"I shall see you again," the videos replied, before switching to a view of the nindroid assembly line. Pixal nodded before running to the elevator and slamming the call button. As she descended within it, she hardly dared to breathe. As soon as the elevator doors opened, she bolted out onto the conveyor belt, watching as the robotic machines turned their eerily human heads toward her. She held her breath, waiting for a signal.
"Are we compatible now?"
-----
Clank, clank, clank– the sound of a hammer rang throughout the factory. Three weeks had passed in a flash, so unlike before, but this time the distorted passage of time was a good thing. Pixal had been working non-stop trying to rebuild Zane's body, while he worked from inside the digital systems of Borg Industries to reconstitute his mind. A few small memories were lost, like Cole's favorite type of cake, but he was alive and intact, so it was good enough. Pixal had run a diagnostic on him at the beginning of the process, and she shuddered at the cold feeling that sprung up along her spine at the thought of Zane's untimely end. How awful that had been…
"Have you finished it, Pixal?" Zane's voice echoed from speakers, with a camera trained on her to act as his eyes.
"Oh, yes! It's all in place. I just need to finish the chestplate."
"Wonderful." Zane smiled, and despite him being the Ninja of Ice, it was like sunshine on a spring day (in Pixal's unbiased, logical opinion). She gave the hammer one final strike before putting it aside.
After fastening the plate to his new titanium body, Pixal turned to the computer, where a digital avatar of Zane waited. "Are you ready, Zane? You can commence the upload at any time."
"Yes, let's begin. Thank you, Pixal." Zane's avatar fizzled out immediately after.
A robotic voice echoed loudly in Pixal's ears. WARNING. Certain files are incompatible with newer BorgTech™ systems and may not properly align. Commence upload anyway? Pixal shook her head and pressed a button.
"Upload will commence in 3… 2… 1… Do not disconnect the power source."
-----
Aquamarine eyes flickered to life as a viewscreen displayed diagnostics. A titanium body sat up, creaking from its newness. A hand stretched out. "Pixal…?"
"Zane. Welcome back." Pixal took his hand and pulled him to his feet. "I have missed you."
"I have… missed you too, but I cannot remember why… Was I gone?" Zane blinked owlishly at her.
"Do you not remember it, Zane? You sacrificed yourself in order to freeze the Overlord." Pixal took Zane's other hand. "You saved everyone, including me."
Zane shook his head. "I feel out of sorts. It must have been the upload. I do not think this disorientation will last very long."
"I am inclined to agree with you. We should go meet with the Ninja and tell them the good news– they have not yet been informed of our project, in case something went wrong." While she did not say it, Pixal's fears were palpable; if they had failed, how would she have told them their brother was gone a second time?
Zane nodded. "Let us be glad it succeeded." He took Pixal's hand, and a pleasant staticky feeling ran up Pixal's arm. She smiled, but Zane's returning grin was short-lived. "I cannot remember some things, Pixal. Some of my memory files are missing or corrupted. I am concerned that perhaps the upload was not as successful as we thought it was."
Pixal's eyes widened. "You have more missing memories? What is the magnitude of their severity?"
"I do not think they are severe at the moment, but they may worsen. I am afraid only time will tell if they are resolved. We should meet my brothers and tell them; perhaps Jay or Nya can help." Zane sighed– to Pixal's ears, it seemed oddly mechanical.
"Very well, then. Shall we go?" Pixal held her hand out to Zane, who took it with a smile.
"We shall." Moments later, his vision turned black, consciousness lost.
-----
Zane blinked rapidly, his new eyes flickering slightly as he came to full consciousness. He looked around frantically, spotting Pixal shut down in a corner. "Pixal!"
"Hey, tin can, you're awake! Welcome to my humble abode," an unfamiliar voice called.
As Zane looked around, he saw no identifying markings of any kind; only the walls of a warehouse. He tried to stand, only to find that his hands were tied to a post, making that impossible without help. "Who are you?" He struggled against his bindings.
"That's not gonna work, buddy. You're well and truly stuck there." The stranger approached, remaining half-clad in shadow. Only half his face was visible, the other half obscured by a bandanna and an eyepatch with a telescoping lens. A wide-brimmed hat cast long shadows on his face, belying creases on his face. "Besides, we wouldn't want you getting hurt. You're worth an awful lot of money."
"You kidnapped us? Do you not know who we are?" Zane protested.
"Of course I do! That's the point. Too bad you're easier to transport in hibernate mode; you're such a bundle of joy to talk to." The man stepped closer. "I suppose it doesn't matter anyway; I can just switch you off."
"Don't do it!" Zane shouted, trying to lean away. "What have you done to Pixal?"
"Nothing that can't be undone," the man said with a chuckle. "Same with you." With those final words, he reached out; Zane shut his eyes tightly, and then he felt no more.
-----
Pixal blinked several times and sat up, raising her head to look around her. In front of her stood Zane, looking frightened for his life. "Zane? What happened?" She shook her head. "It seems I have been hard reset. Do you know who did this?"
"It was a stranger, Pixal. I do not know his name. He did the same to me." Zane kneeled before her, a hand resting on her cheek. "He has taken us hostage. My global positioning system says we are currently off the eastern coast of the mainland, on an unmarked island."
Pixal nodded and looked around. "Where are we? Some sort of holding cell?"
"We are in the back of a truck, I believe. It has not moved for some time." Zane glanced at the door. "I cannot access my elemental powers at all, and I am unarmed; with my neural drive's current state, I am also unable to open the door. We are trapped." He looked back to Pixal, a deep frown upon his artificial features. "I am terribly sorry you were dragged into this."
"Do not apologize, Zane. It was unavoidable, and I would have it no other way. I am glad I am with you." Pixal smiled sadly, taking Zane's hand in her own. "After all, we are compatible."
Zane smiled. "Yes, we are." As if to punctuate his statement, a loud thump occurred against the wall of the truck. "It seems we are not alone."
A voice rang out, muffled by the truck walls. "Gah, stupid cultists! Can't even carry crates right! This deal had better be worth it."
Pixal locked eyes with Zane. "How is your neural drive? I hesitate to believe we will be alone for long."
Zane shook his head. "It is in a bad state. I seem to have even more corrupted files. It will take a long time to dredge the backups from my hard drive."
Pixal frowned. "It will have to do for now."
The voice outside the truck shouted again. "Hey, watch it! That's valuable cargo, straight from Stiix!" It paused, then took a different tone. "Ah, Chen. There you are."
A whiny voice shouted in return. "There you are, Ronin! Do you have the robot?"
"Yes, I have the nindroid," the first– likely Ronin– responded.
"Let me see him!" the whiny voice, which must belong to Chen, shouted. "I need to know you kept your deal!"
"Hey, hold it," Ronin responded. "Give me the money first."
"Yes, yes," Chen replied, his tone off-handed. "Clouse, give him the money. I want to see the prize!"
"I brought Borg's droid too. The nindroid's smitten with her. You never know how helpful it is to have a bargaining chip."
"Yes, you're right! Clouse, add an extra three hundred for her. It's a pleasure doing business with you, Ronin."
"Yeah. A pleasure." The voices fell silent, and Pixal nodded at Zane.
"Here's our chance," Pixal whispered.
Zane nodded and stood, helping her stand up too. "We won't get a second. Ready?"
"Ready." The two of them stood apart, ready to fight. A minute later, the door creaked open, and Pixal launched herself at the men opening the door. After landing a kick, a man with a sort of telescoping eyepatch grabbed her foot and threw her onto her back.
"You're a feisty one, huh sweetheart? Careful, don't hurt yourself," the man snarked.
Pixal sat herself up abruptly and pushed herself back. After managing to stand, she glanced at Zane, only to find him frozen. "Zane…?"
Zane shook his head rapidly, looking confused. "What is going on? Did I miss something?"
Pixal's eyes widened. "Oh, no. Your neural drive!"
The man in the hat laughed harshly and turned to a man next to him with facial hair and a large purple boa. "Well isn't that handy. Look, Chen. He can't even fight you off! I'd say that's a deal for you."
Chen laughed. "Yes, yes, you're right! Clouse, get our men to take them to their cells!" Another man, this one with a greasy mustache and slicked hair, nodded and gestured to several tattooed men wearing skulls, who entered the truck. Pixal edged away from them with Zane, but they hit a wall and the men grabbed them by the arms.
"Zane!" Pixal called frantically, struggling unsuccessfully to free herself. "You must fight back!"
Zane shook his head and pulled his arms free, only to have another man pin them. "My d-defensive programs are not respon-ponding! I-I-I-I am unable to fight th-th-them!" His voice glitched painfully, displeasure evident on his face. The men wrenched his arms behind him and began marching him out of the truck. "Pixal!"
Pixal stared in horror as her own captors marched her in the same direction. As Zane glitched erratically, she tried to defend herself, but she could only watch as they were brought to two identical cell doors. Zane was thrown in the right, and she in the left.
Zane shouted as he was thrown against a wall and shackled. His captors immediately slammed and locked the door, as Pixal was locked in her own. "I am unharmed. Are you?"
Pixal ran to the window connecting their cells and shook her head. "I am as safe as I can be. You are shackled, Zane!"
"Yes," he replied with displeasure. "I will be able to cut them, I believe, but not any time soon. The saw in my arm will suffice."
Pixal nodded. "Very well." As soon as she said that, the door to her cell slammed open, revealing more of the tattooed men. She gasped and backed up to the wall, frantically searching for an opening for escape, yet finding none. "Do not touch me!"
The mustached man approached from the back of the group and grinned. "I find it difficult to see the power behind your words, robot."
"I said, don't touch me," Pixal exclaimed. "I am a droid, and I can defend myself!"
"Well, that poses a problem," the man simpered. "But that can be remedied." He gestured to her. "You know what to do." With that, the men advanced.
"Stop!" Pixal held out her arms in protest, only for the men to encircle her and remove her arms at the shoulder sockets. Red warnings flashed across her visual interface.
"Pixal!" Zane exclaimed, pulling uselessly against his chains. "What are they doing to you?"
"T-they are disconnecting my body!" Pixal replied. "They have taken my arms- You can't take that ou-" Her voice cut off abruptly.
"PIXAL!" Zane cried, but there was no response other than simpering laughter.
"My mistake. I seem to have removed her neural drive. Such a pity for that beautiful body to be useless." The mustached man came to the window. "Let this be a lesson, nindroid. Fighting back will only result in pain."
Zane shook his head. "You can't do this."
"You misunderstand, nindroid. I can, and I will." With that, the man stepped away.
Zane shook his head, his eyes falling to the floor as he uselessly tried to sob. His digital breath hitched, and he almost laughed; they had forgotten to add tear ducts to his new body. A fresh wave of emotion washed over him, pushing against his skull, and warnings flared across his vision. Warning: intense emotional experience will increase file corruption. Calm down. Zane laughed emptily and continued to silently sob, the warnings multiplying. It didn't matter that his files were slowly corrupting and disappearing; Pixal was gone, and nobody even knew he was alive again. There would be no rescue for him. He hung his head as his eyes closed, the warnings dyeing his vision red. Let him forget; it would hurt less.
#ninjago#ninjago zane#ninjago pixal#pixane#zane julien#pixal borg#ninjago fanfiction#set during the season 3 to season 4 gap#zangst#OLST fanfic#OLST writing
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I would like to ask you for headcanons where reader is a Supreme Being that calls Momonga to a private talk where reader tells about how in the human world before YGGDRASIL reader was a spy for the Megacorps, spying on various players because the Megacorps made contact with the new world and slowly were sending player to the new world to finally they conquer the new world, but telling Momonga that after years playing with him reader decided to betray the Megacorps
I AM SO SORRY THAT THIS TOOK SO DANG LONG
Ainz
With a Megacorp Spy GN reader
“Y/N? You wish to speak?”You brought him away from the floor guardians and to a back room.You confessed that you were a Megacorp Spy, and that they were in the new world colonizing it to the south beyond the Slane TheocracyBut that you regretted it, and that you wanted to be with Nazarick more than anything.“Umu…Let's lead them into a trap then, shall we?” So you told some of the Megacorp leaders and military about your totally awesome and real plan to kill Ainz and brought them to a small desert area in the south…and well…Death is a Mercy in Nazarick.mp3Ainz definitely felt a bit betrayed, and made you tell him the whole story.When the mega corps assassinated Bell River, you were supposed to be next. But thankfully, you had some info for them that proved useful. One thing led to another, and before you knew it you were living a double life.“...Who…Who killed him?”You pointed the man out…considering what Suzuki did to him, even Neuronist would be a mercy.Bottom line is you and Ainz had a wonderful Desert holiday.
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Humans are weird: Galvanizing the human spirit
( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)
When Ma’vak had returned to his homeworld after conquering the human colony of Cronus VI, he had not expected for his first meeting with his emperor to involve him being flung like a ragdoll into the walls of the royal palace.
His impact into the lavishly decorated wall was forceful enough to leave a deep crater three inches in before he bounced off and tumbled to the floor. Dazed by the impact he attempted to rise to his feet only to see his emperor advancing on him once more.
“My emperor,” he began through wheezing gasps, “if I can just-“
His emperor, the holy sun Toval Marl, picked up Ma’vak with one hand as easily as one would lift a pebble and struck him with the back of his other hand. Though the blow had been merely a slap to the emperor, to Ma’vak it was the force of a cannonball and he felt his jaw unhinge itself from the strike.
“Commander Ma’vak.” The emperor spoke in hushed words soaked with barely restrained anger, “When I want you to speak, I SHALL TELL YOU!”
With a thunderous roar the emperor once again flung Ma’vak; this time down from upper tier of the throne room and into the lower tier where the courtesans and court mingled. They had been watching the unfolding dispute with amusement but now ran away in panic as the commander crashed into several of them. Ma’vak felt multiple bones breaking, but thankfully he soon realized that they belonged to the onlookers who had cushioned his fall.
Ma’vak looked up from the pile of limbs he found himself nestled in to see the emperor leaping down to the lower tier himself. His feet struck the floor with enough force to shake the entire room as if it was in the middle of the earthquake.
“I sent you to Cronus VI with the simple order of crushing the human military presence there.” Toval said, slowly walking towards Ma’vak. “I told you I wanted their military beaten, broken, and left so utterly shattered that they would carry messages of doom back to the rest of their people and break their will to fight before the war had even begun.”
The emperor now loomed over him now, his very shadows swallowing Ma’vak whole and seemingly dragging him into a dark pit of despair.
“Do you know what message the survivors brought back instead?”
When the commander didn’t respond the emperor gave a subtle tilt of his head and a waiting attendant activated a large scale projector. The room went dark as the projector hummed into life and presented an image many in the court could not believe, let alone comprehend.
“REMEMBER THE 18th!”
“REMEMBER THE 18th!”
“REMEMBER THE 18th!”
The projector showed a crowd of several thousand humans all gather together in various squares, parks, and meeting places of their world all chanting the same message. Children ran through the crowd with the number “18” crudely painted on their faces and clothes while the adults continued chanting and marching through the streets of their cities like a great living wave.
Switching from the crowds the projector then cut into a human broadcasting service that was covering the events. A human female and male sat behind a wooden desk as a long information feed was run underneath them.
“We are returning to you now with continued coverage of the recent attack made against the Cronus VI colony.”
“That’s right Tom,” the female continued, “news of the unprovoked attack is just reaching us but it looks like the entire defense garrison of the 18th Legion was wiped out while protecting the civilian population. We must warn you that the footage of the attack we are about to show you is graphic and may not be suitable for children.”
The feed displayed shaky footage of the attack on Cronus VI’s capital city Helios. Human civilians were running through the street screaming as alien fighter craft roared overhead strafing the streets. Numerous human civilians are cut down by the withering fire.
As another alien craft looms overhead the camera is thrown to the ground as the holder no doubt dives for cover. The roaring weapons fire however is soon drowned out by the deep below of engines and the booming sounds of heavy cannon fire.
The camera shakenly is held up once more in time to show a large human armored vehicle rolling down the street the civilians had been running to. Swarms of human soldiers surround the vehicle as its twin cannons aim at the sky and unleash lead filled retribution against the alien foes. One of the soldiers sees the camera holder and waves to them.
“Get to the shelter!” they shout as the armored vehicle continues to fire skyward, striking down several craft from the sky as one would swat a fly.
An explosion erupts near the camera holder sending them to their feet once more but the soldier who shouted before comes over and helps them rise to their feet again.
“Keep going!” They shout encouragingly as the alien craft have recognized the new threat and had begun to swarm towards it. “RUN! We’ll hold them off!”
The soldier shoves the camera holder away before turning around and to face the oncoming swarm of alien fighters before the feed went dead.
Once again the projector switched back to the male and female humans at the desk as they resumed their broadcast.
“That was just one instance of the 18th legion engaging the unknown alien attackers which launched a ruthless attack against the planets civilian populations.”
A chart appeared in the background of what appeared to be a map of Cronus VI’s cities. Large portions of each city were overlapped in red to show the damage done to them.
“Though the current death toll is resting in the hundreds of thousands military officials state the entire planets population could have been eradicated had it not been for the rapid mobilization of the 18thLegion who abandoned their military compounds and engaged the alien attackers; often pulling them away from civilian areas by making themselves the bait.”
“President Mabel has called an emergency meeting of the world senate in response to this sudden and heinous attack and it is predicted that war will be declared.”
The male nodded to his female counterpart. “Many citizens of the core worlds are not even waiting for the official announcement and are flocking to local military recruitment centers to enlist into the armed forces.”
The emperor nodded once more and the projector was disabled. When he spoke it was the voice of a predator ready to lash out at their prey.
“Why did you disobey my orders and attack civilian centerss?”
Ma’vak rose to his feet unsteadily, shaking off the broken bone fragments still clinging to him, and stood at attention before responding.
“The military installations were too heavily fortified for our forces to engage with directly.” Ma’vak said. “I reasoned that the human civilian population was put in danger the military units would abandon these fortifications and engage our forces in more favorable terrain.”
The emperor did not reply. His steely gaze looked down at Ma’vak with not only an intent to rip him limb from limb, but also sheer disappointment.
“I wanted their military defeated in their strongholds.” The emperor began. “I wanted their people to see that even behind their walls and guns that they were just as vulnerable to our attacks. I wanted the planets survivors to witness this and bring stories back of a defeat so devastating that it would crush their willing to continue a fight with us.”
In a flash the emperor’s right hand lashed out and grabbed Ma’vak by the throat and hoisted him into the air. The commander struggled and gasped in his grasp, his feeble hands smacking against the powerful hand strangling the life from him as if he was nothing but a child.
“Instead you have made their soldiers into martyrs and worse still given them a cause to rally behind!”
The emperor’s grasp tightened further and Ma’vak’s vision began to blur as he continued to struggle for every breath.
“You didn’t snuff out the fire of their spirit; you have stoked and fed it so now where there had been but dying embers is a roaring flame that will consume us all! THEY WILL COME IN THEIR MILLIONS NOW!”
Having suffered the stupidity of his commander long enough the emperor dismissively snapped Ma’vak’s neck and let the cold body fall to the flood.
Every courtesan and attendant still in the throne room watched in silence at the brutal horror that had unfolded and the still simmering rage that still held sway over their emperor.
“Leave us.” The emperor ordered; a command all present were more than eager to abide by and the milling masses quickly shuffled away lest they be the next target of his wrath.
Once the room was empty Toval turned from the dead body to face the lone attendant who still remained.
“Dispose of this.” He said coldly to the dead body sullying his throne room. “Then summon my second son and tell him he is now my first heir and commander of our forces.”
He strode passed the bowing attendant without waiting for a response.
“Tell him we have a war to prepare for.”
#HUMANS ARE WEIRD#humans are insane#humans are space orcs#humans are space oddities#scifi#story#writing#original writing
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chapter v.
chapter v.
Rating: Semi-M
Warning: Depictions of violence, minor context of war and mentions of in childbirth;
SUMMARY: In which many years apart and MELLARA TARGARYEN and DAEMON TARGARYEN YEARN FOR EACH OTHER.
[Prince Aelor Targaryen was full of painful dreams, ones he had spent years running away from. the way he had predicted the deaths of his family had left him burdend with the knowledge of the future. having dreamt of his daughter’s future, of the love she will create with her cousin prince Daemon Targaryen terrified him. the line of the hero that Aegon the Conquerer dreamt of had been born of their love. but such love burns, burns everything in a flame that was going to engulf the whole realm. he feared what was to come. yet, when he was gone - what was he do to stop it? none shall be able to stop such a thing. the rogue prince was determined. tut more so his lover, the realm’s love, was determined to love him.]
- maester aeron targaryen; adust
A D U S T m a s t e r l i s t
< you and i burn together or we shall die trying >
chapter i / chapter ii / chapter iii / chapter iv / chapter v
chapter vi / chapter vii / chapter viii / chapter ix / chapter x
chapter xi / chapter xii / chapter xiii / chapter xiv / chapter xv
chapter xvi / chapter xvii / chapter xviii
It was not his intention to stare at his brother, but he could not help it. Many trifling years had passed since he had lost seen his younger brother and the last he had seen him, it was an accidental meeting. One his brother had not wanted nor planned. Purple eyes gleaming with surprise and anguish, almost pained at the sight of those he had shared blood with, pained by the sight of those he dare once say he loved. The royal progress had not been planning to stop at the route it had, but Baelon Targaryen knew his brother was near. He was within his reach. Baelon wanted it, to see him again. To see familiarity in the changing world.
When he arrived at upon the back of Vhagar, Baelon Targaryen could see the wide imposing walls from above. The shadow of his ancient beast swallowed the town whole, which had caused the result he had wanted. The bells rang, as did the crowds of people huddling away from the darkness he had caused. Then and only then did he see the same eyes he bore. The face that reflected the strength of their mother most. Baelon nodded at his brother. His dearest brother Aelor gazed back at him with apprehension. He sat proudly at his saddle, vicious Blacknight, roaring a song of a warrior at Vhagar, who roared back.
In these many years of his brother’s isolation, none had dared seek presence without his permission Lest they wanted to never be welcomed into his affections ever again. The thought had been odd, the thought of privacy. Their family had been nefarious intrusivity, distinctly their mother and father who controlled with all their hard-handed strength. Aelor with his free spirited nature and strength had always seemed too daring and too dauntless ― mother or father had always been unable to bring his nature to heel. Mayhaps ‘tis why they had left him be, Baelon thought to himself. His brother was not afraid of anything. In the face of any threats, he thrives, like a dragon must.
The darkness of the shadow eclipsing the moonshine raining upon them, his gaze directed into a far away sea of pitch darkness. The silence that loudly sang upon the air, like a hymn resounding through the air. A proud beckoning of life in the harrowing dusk. Baelon Targaryen had not expected such beauty in his brother’s brutish dragon. In all these years, he had become all the grace that his brother had heled, enshrined in its scales were the valors of a knight and the sorrows of his songs were as lamenting as night. The metallic shine of the dragon now slowly rested upon the imposing eagle tower - an ugly monstrous stone tower with sharp peaks, eagerly gazing with dominance over the islet it stood upon with a dragon's eyes. From afar, one could hear his own ancient Vhagar, responding with what he thinks is a compliment to the younger.
It was heaven on earth in Blackhall, Baelon thinks. a paradise that only his brother could make. He understands why his little brother had kept it all to himself. Aelor had worked hard in making this once barren land into a thriving trading hub, filled with lively revelry and riches that only could match the luxury of his nephew, the Seasnake.
Such it was in the abundance of a monstrous peaks emerging in symphony in quiet isolation, it was evident to see the glistening of serene wonder of the burnt black stone. Overlooking the port below it, the quiet lamplight of massive trading ships rests at anchor. From afar, Baelon could see his brother’s flag ship ‘Gentle Flower’ drift across the bay. For a moment, he thought to himself that Aelor had named the ship for their Daella. But he could not be certain.
The town was connected to the mound of the islet through a silver bridge, put together by the melting breath of dragonfire. It was a bustling life, one that could only come from fairy tales. A perfect space for anyone and everyone, isolated from the world that is filled with roughness and dirt. Baelon could conclude how grown his younger brother had become, ruling over the land like a righteous and virtuous king. As he let out a breath, he recalled what he thought when he had seen his brother as he joked and sang with the townsfolk and nobles. Smiling and beaming with boisterous laughter, merry like a sweet summer song. Harmony reigned because of Aelor Targaryen.
For a brief moment, Baelon had found himself once more lamenting the crown that now rests on his shoulders like heavy worlds crushing him. When he had been first made heir, he had been grievous at the thought that his father had disposessed his beloved brother’s heir, his daughter. Baelon was not made to be a king. He was many things, to be sure. A knight, a warrior, a dragon. But he was not king. He was not made for it, not the way Aemon was.
Not like Aelor would be. For a moment, Baelon had selfishly wished it had been his younger brother who had been chosen to bear the pain of a royal crown. A throne that bore the responsibility of tthousands with hopes and dreams for the future of this land. Aelor was built for duty, he was built for the this crown. Alyssa had said just as much when they were playing those games of kings and queens and knights and all their bright colorful crowns.
But even then, Baelon was the elder brother. This was not his younger brother’s burden to bear. He knew that all too well. The prince of Dragonstone had been all but certain that he had already used the gift of the gods for all the good joyous things in his life. Alyssa, his beloved sons, his granddaugther. He has more than used all his luck on this world. But Aelor was not done yet, his was barely empty. The prince knew that his brother was better off here, living a life where he could enjoy more of his life with those that love and cherish him. Baelon thinks it was all fair, for none had to deal with the the dragon's nightmares the way their brother has had to.
Baelon overlooked the deep ditch of massive curtain walls that span beyond the prince's courtyard. Walls thick with hard blackened stone, melted together with the heat of Blacknight's dragon fire. Baelon had known that his brother liked to carve his mark upon the world, he knew that he would not be indifferent on his newborn domain. Father had gifted the land to his brother to reward him, for his valiant display of strength in vanquishing pirates along the river's mouth at Saltpans. Aelor had delighted in the joy that came with his success, vigorous in using both hands to build each and every stone. He could remember his grin, reaching his eyes as he and Alyssa watched him move through muddy water and brick. His heart clenched bitterly, missing those warm summer days.
They were always happy together. So eager to just be the three of them, dreaming of the joys that could come as they grew older together. When Aemon died, there were promises whispered and promises broken. More so when he had lost Alyssa and their babe. Baelon had always bore the heavy weight of all these losses. He cried as though his heart had perished with his brother Aemon and his soul breaking apart when Alyssa passed. But his brother's disappearance from all of it had always been something he wished had never happened. Even when he understood, Baelon had always wished it never was reality. Aelor was all he had left in truth.
But now there was nothing but distance, but walls all around them. Aelor Targaryen all but hid himself here for years, forming a life of a nomad, enjoying the bliss of his warm home with his wife and daughter, away from all that he wished would never haunt him again. Baelon had always wondered if Aelor was running away. Perhaps even casting himself aside into oblivion, to hide from all the ghosts that chase after him. From all the ghosts only he could see, looking at him in their deep sunken eyes whispering over and over of his failures and grievous prophecies.
“Today,” Aelor Targaryen starts, breaking the silence. Baelon looks at him curiously. “’Tis Maegelle’s name-day.”
The elder brother’s brows furrowed, surprised. “I....Is that so?”
“Hm,” Aelor says as he moves towards the battlements, leaning over to look downwards. Baelon follows suit, noticing the flowers. “She would have been thirty and four, brother. Imagine that.”
The edges of the isolated isle on the bank of the rousy Trident fielded with endless grassy fauna that grew in abundance untouched. much too many flowers blossomed, glistening even in the shivering moonlight. Baelon was sure his younger brother had found the flowers himself. They looked bright even in the darkness, echoing with grace. He had a fondness for such things, as his own daughter grew interest in them back in Dragonstone years ago when she was but a girl.
In a moment that his thoughts drifted, Baelon heard a loud tune release from the dark echoes of Blacknight's roar across the breaking winds. Blinking, the prince had forgotten for a moment that the young dragon was there at all with his eager silence. Monstrous glistening talons widening at each turn down the valley of the village, Baelon wondered if the small folk would delight in the sight of the dragon as they did now. He liked to believe so, at least. Blacknight was their protector, the one who sings them hymns of peace. Blacknight once more took flight, diving just below them and flew high once more into the heavy clouds. A moment later, Baelon could hear his brother hum the same tune as his dragon.
“I heard from my contacts in Oldtown that you came to her when she passed,”
“You and your little spiders work quick,” The younger snorted, a sly smile on his face. “You keep tabs on me, lēkia?”
“Of course, valonqar. I must do it.” Baelon says as he knocks his brother’s head with his hand. “Now, why did you go there? Are you stupid? Do you want to die, little brother?”
Aelor groans, rubbing his head. “You never use to hit that hard,”
“Someone needs to knock sense into you, you fool.” Baelon sighed, shaking his head. “Greyscale is dangerous, brother. You could have been harmed!”
“You would rather Maegelle died alone?” Aelor now frowned. “Brother, you must understand, she was alone.”
“You know better than anyone that all of us die alone,” Baelon mummered, lowering his head as his little brother pursed his lips. “Endangering yourself will not make up for lost time. Not even when you will it.”
Aelor took a moment to compose himself. “...Maegelle said that too.”
“What?”
“That it was better she died alone,” Aelor whispered into the cold air. “The crone only takes one, she says.”
"Did that upset you, little brother?" Baelon questioned, arms rested upon his chest.
"Mayhaps." Aelor broke into a somber laugh. "Mayhaps not, I am not entirely sure."
Baelon was puzzled. "Whatever do you mean?"
“I saw Maegelle smile at me, in my dreams, before I came to see her.” His brother confessed. “The greyscale had spread through her face, her hands. I couldn’t touch her. But she smiled and told me goodbye. Elaena was worried for me, telling me in the middle of my rambling that my dreams were not true. Maegelle was fine.”
“Aelor ― “ Concern filled the elder dragon’s purple orbs.
“But they all come true. Time and time again.” Aelor whispers, almost as though tears will soon pour from his eyes. “Brother, I have seen it all.”
Baelon frowns. “What do you mean?”
"I fear that if I tell you, you would not like it." Aelor shakes his head, turning to his elder. "Fate being told and determined, it is a painful thing. A dangerous thing."
"It would relieve you as well." Baelon counters, sighing heavily. "Little brother, are you not tired of keeping secrets? After all this time, do you not trust me?”
"It keeps you safe." The younger purses his lips. "If I keep myself silent, mayhaps you and your sons will not rush to avoid it."
“But you just told me of our sister.”
Aelor shook his head. “She’s gone. That already has come true. But now, if I say more ― my fear is the fourteen flames would will it to be.”
Baelon's brows furrows. "Little brother, is the dreams about us? Is that why you were so worried to look at me?
"Your line and mine," The younger Targaryen struggles to speak, halting as he gazes back to Blackwing who grazes upwards the clouds. The prince of Blackhall was moved to tears. “What fire and blood will reign upon this land.”
Baelon opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.
He shrugs, all his questions and worries unsaid.
Aelor’s tears poured, gleaming against the moon.
The smell of venison crept into the royal tent, its blood still freshly gathered onto the small of the butcher’s table. Yet it had reminded Mellara much of old days, years growing up in the open fire of a cold night out in the woods. Her own princely father gazing at the boar’s meat cooking on the spit. Eyes filled with concentration, one would think that he was in a trance, forever beholden to the mercy of burning meat. A small smile slid slowly into her features. It was just then that she recalled the scent of fresh air in the beautiful autumns riding out by the Trident, enjoying the fresh air of the woods in a hunt.
Her father’s laughter beaming with pride at his daughter’s every successful shot, her joy at each every turn of stories he had told to her with the utmost elegance, loud and obnoxious – filled with endless wit that she beamed a grin at with intent to listen till the stories ended. They would stay up till the morning arose, just the two of them looking at each other’s eyes. Talking of endless nonsense that only they could understand. Oh how she missed these times, mindlessly joyous beyond comparison to be in the hunting party. Beyond compare, joyous at the company that surrounded her. This was not the case today. A flat line ushered deeply upon her features, her gaze turning onto her mother.
Elaena Velaryon looked pleasantly displeased to be here at all, sitting around the women that crowded the young queen. The princess dowager had all but wished she had not come, her features evidently poignant with endless boredom.The way that the women spoke parrotted her at her repeatedly into a lulled distaste. It had not been something that was out of the norm for her mother to have such a dull gaze upon her features. The dowager princess possessed no desire to hide what she thinks of people, not certainly when she is to be in the company of the lickspittles and sycophants in one space.
At least that is what she had said when they had ridden the wheelhouse, unable to accept such a ridiculous expense of such a name day her great nephew would not even dare remember. She had all but screamed it in the king’s face, echoing with displeasure and anger, bittered by her nephew’s willingness to approve this ridiculous farce.These days, mother had been determined to correct her nephew and his weakness.The lack of tradition emptied the court of dissent to greed. Lest of all with the young queen in control of the royal household had lead into disarray. Mellara could not help but agree, knowing what had been going on at court — being forced to stay there these many uneventful years.
Mellara could once say that she had once felt for Alicent Hightower. It was her father, ser Otto Hightower who had placed her upon the situation she now is in. But with each passing day, with her son now born and pass the worry of his quick mortality, the princess of Blackhall could see the power that she could have with her son by her side. Viserys had all but been deferent to her and had done so when she suggested appointments. Promoting them from the faction that now forms against Rhaenyra’s position at court, Mellara is uncertain, if this was the work of her father or her own. But Mellara could feel it, her eyes show it just as much. She was realizing her power as a queen.
These days, Mellara Targaryen found herself as a bystander, powerless against her cousin’s royal authority. Mellara had been trying, she could say so, to promote the interests of her niece as heir. But she found that even with each and every nook and corner, Otto Hightower was always a road block. He had all but shoved out any petition of hers into the oblivion. Dedicately more so if it was in the interest of Rhaenyra’s reputation. If Rhaenyra wished to send money from her own purse to aid the orphanage in the HIll of Rhaenys, Otto would respond that they will look into it first.
If Mellara saw it fit to fund the education of girls in the city’s poorest slum, she was told it would have to be subjected to the king’s will first. Mellara had all but found herself enbittered by the man, wasting her time in useless waiting. When she had told this to Viserys, he had said that he was sure Otto had only been doing so for her interest and the realm. But Mellara was aware that he had no intention of doing good or doing well by the realm. By all means, he wishes to ruin any chance of good if it does not benefit him.
These days, she could not even return to Blackhall to conduct business. Nor could her mother find herself able to visit the elderly lady of White Isle, without the permission being given. The depth of bitterness does not age well in the bitter gleam of wine. Instead, the wine has found itself spoilt and its smell disturbing the joys it should have, Mellara finds that everything now wastes itself away in endless tourneys and balls that give nothing but opportunities for snakes to roll through the fields freely.
When they could be spending such funds to provide for the poor as queen Aemma had in Fleabottom when she could. She at times had given Viserys advise to even use his purse to help the realm. Instead of using his purse to build dromonds that could provide for a war, all these lords had all but nodded to spend as much of the many years royal purse combined to this long expensive royal procession that coils into this awfully dull hunt for the white hart.
The princess of Blackhall slumped against the support, sighing deeply as she feeling a slight headache pass through her momentarily. Leaning her face to her side, she gazed at Rhaenyra as she restlessly walked across the royal confines. Her deep lilac eyes were observantly pondering from a distance, as though she was an unwelcome shadow in the walls. These many years had not been kind to her niece, uneasy with the loss of a friend, the loss of a father and the lost of identity that now dwells within her. These many years had become a painful conundrum of isolation and lonesomeness, casting away into the abyss where no one knew where she could be. Mellara could only reassure her niece as much as she could but she knew very well it is her that must see it as truth.
The elder Targaryen had felt such pain for her niece in the depths of her heart, being lost in the vast wilderness she did not know how to escape from. For a moment, she could see herself in the younger woman. She too had been through such grief, losing her father. But such pain a mother and then losing a friend to tumultous circumstances over these years had made Rhaenyra feel so desperately alone in these seas. Even if one understood duty, duty at its core was known to batter the heart and harm the soul. Being at the highest peak is the saddest sight to behold. Even more so, it was always harder without anyone by your side. Father had said as much to her when she was but a girl.
In a way, she could understand Viserys and his need for others. But she did not know whether she could hate him or no. All of them were wrought in the miserable weight of the crown. Yet, all of them were the ones making sacrifices for his joys, not he. Yet they were all still there, waiting to be noticed by the man they live their unhappiness for. Mellara however was aware as Daemon was, as she was sure Rhaenyra was that they do not have the luxury of having Viserys as a man any longer. With the walls caving into them, trapping them under the yoke of royal authority, he was just the king now. A king who cannot be anything else but the crown’s puppet.
“You must be getting lonely without me.” Mellara whispered at her ear, wrapping her arm around her niece. She could see the small smile upon her niece’s lips. “Is the wine any good?”
“Well, its Arbor gold. I expect nothing special of it. ” Rhaenyra whispered in kind, cheekily. “Too stale.”
“You best not let lord Tyrell hear such a thing, niece,” Mellara slyly grinned back. “The man is too prideful for words that do not bloom in flowers.”
Rhaenyra returned her grin, “But dearest aunt, he will forgive me.”
“And why so, niece?”
“If my dearest aunt will tell lord Tyrell a better story, I am sure he will do so.”
Mellara laughed. “You have grown brazen, niece. But perhaps you are right. Lord Tyrell will not mind. He knows my preferences for white wines.”
Her niece raised an intrigued brow. “Oh, then is it off to aunt Saerra?”
“You give me a good preposition, princess.” Mellara says, her hands brushing through her niece’s long silver locks. “But I doubt your kingly father would be calm with the loss of his heir.”
“He does not even notice when I am gone, aunt.” Rhaenyra snorts as she leans into her touch. She looks at her aunt, almost pleadingly. “Come, my dearest aunt. Let us be on dragonback and escape this dreadful place together.”
“I wish I could, my princess.” Mellara replies, kissing her niece’s temple. “But knowing your dearest kingly sire, he will send after that dog of his to look for us.”
Rhaenyra shook her head. “I wish this trip should end. I did not even wish to go here.”
“Nor do I,” Mellara whispers back. “But I do swear to you, soon enough we shall be back at the Red Keep and reading away in peace.”
“I look forward to that.” The crown princess beamed in a way she had not throughout the hunt. “I shall like your company. And our darling boy.”
The princess of Blackhall nodded happily. “You can count on us there, my dearest. We will be there at your pleasure.”
The princess of Blackhall had always been close to Rhaenyra, as her dear mother was the queen’s good friend and family. However, in these four years – they had grown even closer. In such lonesomeness the silver haired elder had felt in these many years in the abundance of the court that had caused her much grief. In these times, Mellara Targaryen had felt too many things about life. The drifting of the family into factions had become a troubling worry for her. Viserys yields to lords who feast upon her flesh.
Her mother, the dowager princess, had been filled with malice against the queen and her family which in turn caused her rift with her dear nephew the king. Rhaenyra had isolated herself, supporters coming and going with the birth of a male to her father, one that she felt had replaced her from her father’s affections. And even with her newborn nephew, Mellara had felt so distant regardless of her efforts to make connections with the queen. Much to her discomfort, the queen’s family had become quite a thorn to her life.
In such recent years, Mellara Targaryen had found herself full of threats upon her chosen life. The piling of letters, asking for her hand in marriage had come with such urgency. Each corner of the realm had asked for her hand when Rhaenyra rejected their own begging plea. It did not surprise Mellara, she was of marriageable age. She had been since she had been ten and six. Her father had shook his head when he had been alive, at each raven coming to Blackhall with written intentions to ask for his daughter’s hand.
Ever so cantankerous, he laughed and declared he did not care to arrange marriages because Mellara was no fool. She was to choose her husband in her own way, which much her mother had agreed with. But her father was no longer here – the king was. The king had made himself clear years ago that just like Rhaenyra, Mellara had to marry. To do her duty to the crown, to their family. It angered her mother, causing a rift further. But Viserys had been firm about the matter and he would not change his mind, not even when Alicent had tried to convince the king otherwise.
Mellara would have thanked Alicent for her kindness, she would have. Yet she did not speak when her own lord father had proposed marriage to the princess of Blackhall. Nor denied her kingly cousin the chance to do so. Alicent knew just as much that another royal marriage to a Hightower would benefit them well. Viserys had thought it a good match, as Mellara would not have to rule Blackhall alone. The king kept touting it an honorable match, but there was no thanks from mother and daughter. There was only horror to the thought of being miserable at the hands of a man who will use her and abuse her.
It had appalled the princess dowager that such a man who had caused much of the rift in her family would come to cause more animosity within the house of the dragon by forcing a marriage match she did not want. The princess dowager had been so aghast with anger towards her nephew that she took her daughter and sailed to Driftmark, welcomed by her niece Rhaenys when she had been there. However, the king could not be avoided for too long and as such, with royal command – they returned and refused to speak with the king as much as they would be able not to.
It had been a somber affair, much arguing had happened through the days that followed their return. The king had forgotten that the princess dowager was without question unwilling to let her authority be diminished by anyone, not even the king. To her, she was the matriarch of this family, the last remaining of the long line of wise women that had left this great house. And in doing so, she could bring sense to the court. Most of all, sense to the king.
Forcing the king to see sense for hours on end, Mellara was given her right to marry on her own terms and would not marry below her station. However, they were to remain in the capital. To ensure that mother and daughter would not escape, she and her mother were interred in the princess of Dragonstone’s household. Even Blacknight was chained at the dragonpit, only released to accompany Rhaenyra to her flight across the Crownlands.
But this did not stop the marriage proposals.
And continually had ravaged her soul cold.
But she must endure.
“Perhaps the princess... can give us some insight.” Mellara heard the queen say, returning her to reality. Mellara walked closer towards the queen’s entourage, her mother still dulled by such conversation. “I am sure she knows more of this conundrum we are in.”
Rhaenyra chuckled nervously. “Oh, I'm not sure how I could. I've never been to the Stepstones.”
“The Stepstones are lovely, my princess.” Mellara spoke, moving towards her niece. The eyes of the ladies of court squabbling at her presence. “I have flown there on occasions. The sea is like a pearl of blue sapphires.”
“Your dear uncle is the great mind behind this war. Is he not?” The lady of the Rock did not pay mind to Mellara, instead raising a brow at the heir.
“I wouldn’t know.” Rhaenyra admitted honestly. “I’ve not spoken to Daemon in years.”
“But, of course, it should be won. The princess believes it as I do.” Mellara declares with confidence, her voice strident as she glares towards the lionness. “I am sure so. I have known my cousin to be swell with his sword. Our cousin Rhaenys and her son Laenor join him on dragonback. With Corlys and his fleet, it should be won.”
“Indeed,” Elaena added with a small nod. “There is nothing more fearsome than dragonfire. Soon enough, they would burn the Triarchy.”
Lady Lannister laughs. “Oh, certainly. But he seems to have failed, has he not? With defeating the Triarchy. It has been more than five years, princess dowager. The runts of the rogue has failed and soon enough with Dorne ―”
“I would heed you to mind your words well, little lion.” Elaena smiled at the younger woman, her lilac eyes clear with malice. “Prince Daemon is still the brother of the king, and an important part of my family. I hope you choose your words well.”
“I do not think she means harm, princess dowager.” Alicent exclaims, trying to ease the forming tension, who sank deeper in her chair. “Prince Daemon and house Velaryon had chosen war.”
“The queen is right. He's made a mess and he ought to deal with it in his own terms.” The lady Hightower exclaims frivolously. “If he desires so dearly to have such rocks to be his petty kingdoms, then she ought to die trying.”
“He won’t die.” Mellara spoke faster than she would have hoped, angerier than she would have hoped. But she did not correct herself. “My cousin is formidable in battle, I assure you, lady Hightower, he will correct this mistake.”
Rhaenyra nodded her head. “I may not know what know what my uncle does or what strategies he employs, but he wields Dark Sister and did the conqueror, Queen Visenya. Her will in batle shall guide my uncle, lady Hightower. He will win this war for the realm.”
Lady Hightower snorts. “For all the ills he had caused this realm, I would never think that you would consider still defending him. He has caused havoc for the king, and has caused trouble for the realm. If anything he should ―”
Elaena Velaryon stood, causing the ladies of the court to gaze at her frozen. One could feel the coldness in the room with the way she merely stood still. Mellara kept herself close to Rhaenyra, a hand wrapped upon her young niece. It was almost as if she was shielding the young girl from the events that would follow. The flow of her blue and black ermine dress thundered through the floor as she moved towards lady Hightower, gazing at her with cold eyes as though it had been freezing winter. Proud seahorses danced against the red three headed dragon across the Dornish silk.
Aelor Targaryen was the complete opposite of his wife. His wife was colder in temperament, eager to speak her mind – even if such truths were harder to hear than most lies. Especially to those who could not accept it. The princess dowager uses her right hand to drag the silver platter off the touch of the lady whose eyes widened at the senior lady’s actions. The queen was tense, gazing at Mellara as though to beg for mercy. Mellara sighed, passed the crown princess and moved towards her mother.
“What has my lady Hightower done in these many years that warrants you a good servant of our good realm?” The princess dowager asked bluntly, her voice cutting like steel. “Other than languish up at the Hightower eating all your cakes? Is that your solution in solving our issue of our merchants losing strength? Or have you a better idea to solve our problems with the Triarchy my lady?”
“Mother, that is enough.” Mellara whispered to her in Valyrian. “The king will not forgive you for this.”
“He can only dare not to do so.” Her mother replied in turn, voice filled with venom. “Lest he wishes to alienate us further and force us against him.”
“Listen to your daughter, dowager.” lady Hightower taunted, “You endanger the image of the king.”
“And you cause ruin to the king, by being the brazen fool you are.” Elaena retorts back, her daughter’s grip on her arm tightening. “You ought to not speak at all my lady, if you offer no solutions.”
“For Rhaenyra’s sake. For my sake.” Mellara pleads with her mother, placing her hand upon her shoulder. Pursing her lips in a flat line, she whispers, “For my boy’s sake. Please do not let your temper get the better of you.”
The dowager princess continued her glare. Elaena broke contact from the ladies of court and turned to the direction of her nephew, the king, who gazed back at her with a hardened look. Mellara watched her mother walk away, pridefully walking towards the exit. Mellara turned to Rhaenyra apologetically, who shook her head and whispered to her comforting words. Soon enough, they part their ways as Rhaenyra told her aunt that she would like to take in some fresh air on her own. Mellara insisted she would come but the princess had made up her mind and left. The lilac eyed princess sighed, feeling the presence of lonesomeness as she walked towards the banquet table.
For a moment, she felt like she felt exhausted.
A small line beaconed against her drying lips.
All she wished was for Daemon in her arms.
“I thought I saw a familiar face.” Mellara blinked, turning to look behind her. Her eyes lit in familiarity. “It is good to see someone I know.”
“Elmo Tully, you devil!” Mellara smiled and jumped into his arms, laughing. “When did you get here?”
“A while ago.” He confirmed, parting from her embrace. “There was a delay. I had to look over some mill that was of concern.”
Aelor Targaryen had completely shut the world away from Blackhall, isolated in an islet. However, this did not mean he did not allow Mellara to have no friendly companionship. Aelor regularly invited young women and even young servant girls from across the town to play with Mellara. As she did not have younger siblings, Mellara had been much active in building relationships of close comfort with people outside of her royal rank.
It had however not been the case when Aelor had brought in Elmo Tully, who had become his young foster ward. Lord Glover Tully had been a good friend to Aelor, thankful for his services against bandits around Riverrun and elsewhere. As such, he thought it would be a good continuation if their own children formed a friendship and in that moment Elmo entered the great hall, wearing his house colors – they had quickly become good friends.
Mellara Targaryen had much to say and Elmo who was a young boy of ten, fascinated by her fast speaking and exuberant motion of her steps. He listened to her speak for hours and on, urging her to continue her fascinating stories. Even at the expense of time with their Maester.
Sitting with each other often at the gardens, reading poetry and history together and running around chasing each other across the castle’s inner keeps; even playing knightly games where they fought each other with wooden swords and painted shields - Mellara was delighted to have a new friend. One that could allow her to feel comfort in being herself away from the rules of her mother and the duties of her father, to just be a child of normal circumstance like everyone else.
“It is good to see you.” Mellara whispered joyfully. “I had not seen you since–”
“The funeral of the queen and prince Baelon..” Elmo says softly, eyeing her glassy eyes. “I hope I did not bring such offense or grief–”
“It is a long time ago now. Do not worry.” She reassures him. “It is a happier time now that we are together again.”
“Aye.” He nodded, smiling warmly towards her. “I am very glad that you are in a better place.”
Mellara shook her head. “It could be better. I wish I was at Blackhall right now. Fishing and hunting!"
Elmo laughed. “I think everyone is wishing for that. Especially with the atmosphere here. It’s almost like a warzone here.”
“Oh surely it is! My entire family does not feel endeared to each other at this moment.”
“I’m glad you and the princess are not.” Elmo whispers to her kindly. “Family is a delight to have in troubling times, you know.”
The princess smiled. “I do know. Though, I know you too do know. How is your lord grandfather?”
“He’s seen better days.” The lord sighed, his gaze filled with much emotion. “But he is alive and well, I reassure you. He’s taken walks around the gardens these days.”
“I’m glad he is well.” Mellara says, placing her hand on his wrist. “I know there is much closeness between you.”
He nodded. “Aye, but there too is conflict.”
Mellara raised a brow. “How so?”
The dark haired man pursed his lips tightly. “My home has become factioned. My grandfather wishes to see prince Aegon as heir. But I had reminded him of his vow – our family’s vow to the princess.”
“Does your lord grandfather forget honor?” Mellara’s brows furrowed, along with her face in a frown. “Rhaenyra is to be our queen, my lord.”
“My grandfather thinks that such a vow can be dissolved so easily, one even sworn to the gods.” He mumbles, disappointment evident in his face. He takes her hand from his wrist and squeezes it tightly, almost speaking into promise. “But I assure you, I am on Rhaenyra’s side. Your side.”
“Do you truly mean to keep your vow? To protect her claim?” She retorts, eyes filled with wanting. “To protect my family from ruin?”
He looked dumbfounded by her question. “When your princely father lay dying, did I not swear to him that I would protect your claim too? To protect you and your family?”
“Yes, I do but that is–”
“A woman is capable.” He raises a finger to her, almost scoldingly. “You have shown me, your mother has shown me. If you can do it, why can’t a brilliant and promising young woman like Rhaenyra cannot?”
Mellara was stunned by his response, blinking profusely. “I….I apologize, if you felt like I was doubting you. It’s just that lately…”
“You have nothing to apologize for.” Elmo reassures her quickly, before breathing deeply. “Such men in the capital are vipers indeed. Having no honor and showing their true colors as sycophants.”
“Thank you.” Mellara gazed at him warmly in thanks. “I had so missed your friendship. Our correspondence has been so desperately missed.”
He grins at her handsomely, traces of fading scarlet hair stunned her. “I missed it just as much, dear Mellara. You are a beacon of my life, you know that?”
Mellara laughed, feeling heat upon her cheeks. “You say too much.”
Moving towards her body closer, Elmo felt his fingers slide through her loose silver hair and tucked it backwards with a gentle touch. Mellara’s eyes opened wide and slowly met his sapphire eyes once again. He smiled at her, moving backwards. At such a move, Mellara had felt her heart beat too wildly, almost like a drum that had been part of a musician’s play. She opened her mouth but she did not have anything to say, even when she wanted to. She bit her lip and placed her hands on her side.
“You are still the loveliest woman I have ever laid my eyes on.” He declared to her unabashedly, causing her to gasp. “It is not a surprise, my dear Mellara.”
“Not a surprise? What…what do you mean?”
“You still pleasure me with your kindness in this madness.” Elmo declares to her bluntly, grinning at her. “Mayhaps our friendship to be love.”
Frozen in place, Mellara felt like her heart was going to burst. No, she tells her heart. This is not how you should feel. You love someone else and he will return. Like he always has. Mellara felt her chest tighten, almost as though she would not have anymore air in her lungs to give her the luxury of breath. Murmuring an excuse, she quickly made her way out the tent. She did not stop even with Elmo calling her back with soft tenderness.
Mellara Targaryen found herself ignoring the gaze of many as she left the tent. Gripping her chest, she could feel the heaviness as her heart pounded in her chest. The words spoken by Elmo Tully echoed in her mind, stirring up a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. She needed a moment to herself, away from the intensity of their conversation. In all these many years, she did not expect him to feel the way he does for her. She could feel the tears threaten to fall from her eyes.
She found solace in the quiet isolated forest hedge, where a gentle breeze rustled through the trees and the soft trickle of a nearby fountain provided a soothing melody. Mellara leaned against a tree’s strong body, trying to steady her racing thoughts. She closed her lilac eyes and took a deep breath, attempting to regain control over her emotions.
Why did Elmo's words affect her so deeply? She had always cherished their friendship, but she had never considered anything more between them. Not when she knew herself her heart belonged to another. Mellara's heart belonged to a dragon like her, the only one she knew was able to burn with her. Even from far away, she could never think to open her heart to anyone else. He was coming home for her, she knew that. Daemon Targaryen would return. He had every reason to. He had known, before he had left her, the swell of his seed upon her belly. He would not leave her and their child.
As she collected herself, Mellara thought about the fragile state of the realm and her family's position. The conflict over the succession to the Iron Throne weighed heavily on her mind. She had a duty to support her mother, Rhaenyra, and protect their family's claim. The realm needed stability, but for that to happen she must wed. As she always knew she was. But no more than over, for Rhaenyra’s sake. She pursed her the edge of her lips, taking in the quiet.
She prayed to the fourteen flames in silence.
She wondered if the gods would give her peace.
But she knew, gods liked to play many bitter games.
Her truest relief came when she saw her own tent from afar. Making her way towards her tent, she quietly greeted those she passed by all the while trying to stop her chest from caving in like a house of cards crashing down. Once she made her way towards her tent, loyal Blackhall men greeted her and servants came to call to her. All the white noise had given her nothing save blurry echoes that yielded into multiple reverberations that made her head hurt but she kept on walking until she found her mother sitting on red velvet chairs, gazing in the innocence that dreamed with bliss.
Mellara felt her knees give in as she sat upon the empty space beside the boy. Leaning forward, the princess closed her eyes and placed a warm kiss upon the sleeping figure’s cheeks. Such rosy cheeks were almost like plum, warm and soft to the touch. Mellara allowed her hands to slowly drift across his short silver hair, almost glistening like gems as she threaded through them. His small body was getting stronger, growing into a young man sooner or later. The bitter taste in Mellara’s tongue echoed with harsh abandon. How her boy has grown, not so little anymore as she had last seen him a year before.
But her duty at court, to Rhaenyra, had caused her such little time around her young son. Though it had broken her heart to part with her young boy, Mellara Targaryen knew that the court was no home for the innocent. Especially so if such innocence was to be swept away by wicked vultures who will do nothing but claw at her boy the moment she is not looking.
Blackhall is where he is safe, protected away from the gaze of those who could harm him. Along with his small dragon, Aelyx, named after the Valyrian goddess of war. They will grow much more together. That she was truly so sure of. And soon enough, she was sure he would meet his father. The father that he did not know, the father that did not know of him. Viserys had warned her of telling Daemon, just as he had with all her letters. Most certainly at Otto’s beckoning.
“Is he still tired from the journey?” Mellara questions her mother, her attention all on the young boy.
“I believe so.” Her mother nodded. “He is like an angel, he is. The moment I stepped in, I was immediately calmed.”
Mellara could not help but smile, her tension slowly drifting away. “Indeed he is. He has always been an angel. The first moment I held him.”
Elaena grinned. “I still cannot believe that such a rogue as Daemon Targaryen would be able to produce such an innocent angel.”
These many years ago, her beloved Daemon had abandoned Dragonstone to join their cousin Rhaenys and her husband Corlys to war in the Stepstones. The news had devastated Mellara as her lover had not allowed her to join him in his venture to war. Mayhaps it was not to worry her, mayhaps it was to prevent her from following him into certain harm. But it had broken her heart, crashing into pieces, that he did not want her by his side. Yet she knew she was being foolish. Daemon had done this to protect her and their child.
Daemon Targaryen told her everything about his plans, his ventures. She was his most trusted council, one that kept his secrets close to her heart – safe in lock and key. She spoke nothing of it to Viserys when he had ordered for her return to the capital. She would not betray him, nor his secrets. For his secrets are her own and her own, his.
That night, they did nothing but be in each others arms. Without words, without bitterness or distance. Just a wanting for the warmth of the other against the other’s skin. Mayhaps because it had been such a perfect night, one where such memories drift to her with warmth at each return to the same stop. Daemon Targaryen did not wish to ruin the night, if it were to be the last they would ever share together. Rather, he awoke the earliest he could and kissed her farewell and quietly drifted into the forlorn sky with Caraxes.
Soon after his war began in the Stepstones, Mellara Targaryen had swell heavy with their blossoming child. All of it had been both a miracle and a surprise. But Mellara would not have it any other way. Even with all that she had been through, with her babe being a difficult one to live with, blending along with her grief from the loss of her lover; Mellara was certain all of it had been worth it. When Viserys had found out, it had been a bitter situation. Mellara had wanted to fly to the Stepstones herself to tell him of such wonderful news. It was what would make him happy. His child was to be here. She was to have a child of his own blood, his own heir. Yet none had been happy of it, lest of all Viserys and his hounds.
Especially Otto himself, who has been eagerly asking for her hand in marriage ever since Daemon’s absence. In each response and rejection, he had all but told her that it would be the best course of action. She was after all, just as much abashed with pride that she was with child in wedlock. Viserys had said she would be looked down upon by the masses. A bastard child was not meant to be celebrated. Yet Mellara had not felt an ounce of guilt. She had done it before, had carried a piece of her beloved with her and she would do it again. Bastard or not, she did not care. It was Daemon’s child growing inside of her. That is all that mattered in the end. That the child was a proof of their love.
Throughout the pregnancy, she wished for her lover to be with her. For him to witness the life they had created together grow and yearn to meet his father and mother. But even then, Mellara was truly alone. Alone in the prospect of life to live, uncertain if Daemon would actually return.At almost every turn, her tears blistered her reddening eyes each and everyday calling for Daemon. Wishing for him to be beside her, to hold her hand, to pepper her with kisses. Mellara cried and cried, almost losing her life at the birth of her darling son. She wept, wishing to see him once more if it was the gods willing her towards life beyond death.
Her babe along with her, with the harsh breaching of her babe’s position, lacked the ability to breathe. But after a long fever, she had survived and had cradled her darling boy in her arms – crying happy tears. He looked every bit like his father, from the cradle of his hair to the way his lips twitched upon his every smile. The way his dark purple gaze sparkled the way his own father did. Mellara was so happy to have a piece of her heart back. Aemon Targaryen, she had named him after her father and the love of her life. Aemon the Fortunate, her mother calls him. Mellara smiled so fondly, she couldn't agree more. He was perfect, so beautiful – her dear Aemon. Her son. Their son.
“I want him to come home.” Mellara whispers to her mother, her face contorted in sorrow. “To be with us. So that we can be a family, a true family.”
“Soon my child, it shall be granted.” Her mother whispers to her, standing up and wrapping his arms at the small of her daughter’s back. “It shall be okay.”
Mellara nodded, thanking her mother.
Mellara Targaryen whispered a prayer.
‘Take him home to me, to us. Please.’
It was hard for Daemon Targaryen to see anything, the blinding gray had been upon him. All he could see was cold abandoned cobbles and broken towers. The sight of the Trident beckoned him, flowing ceaselessly with calm. He had not known why he was here, why he was alone. Blinking, Daemon felt the smell of ash and flame pile across his position, the smell of burning flesh was something he had already known too well – from endless loss bitterly whispering into the air like the falling flakes of winter snow.
Pursing his lips into a line, his jaw hardened at the possibilities that gathered in his head. For a moment, from where he stood – he saw her. Her long flowing silver locks fell through her thighs like endless silk beckoning elegant grace as it moved to fall. The smile on her face is ghostly, and yet so profound. It had been a while since he had dreamt of her, had yearned for her so dearly enough for her to visit him.
Dressed in all white, she gathered her body towards him at a walking pace. Not breaking eye contact through her journey towards him, she giggled at him. Oh, how he yearned for that sound. To see it again, even in a dream, sustained him. At her soft whispering of his name, he feels his heart gasp humanity towards him again. These many years of longing for her. Wanting to be in her arms again, Daemon ran to her and his arms opened to lock her onto himself. To gather her into his being, to mold them together again.
Daemon Targaryen had thought of leaving this war, of returning with nothing – for the sake of having her whisper sweet nothings upon his ear as he fell asleep. To see her silhouette grace the shadows of morning dew. The sight of lilac eyes beckoning him home had kept tempting him over and over. But he knew that if he left, he would not be able to face her. He would not be able to honor her in the way that she deserves. Daemon does not wish for it. He must come home. But he will come home fulfilled in his quest. With victory that could bring him closer to his dream of her. Soon, that will be true.
Placing a kiss upon his cheek, Mellara smiled towards him again and touched her stomach, letting the right hand press upon her belly. Daemon took a moment, his mouth opening agape. But she did not speak. Rather she moved towards him again and kissed him and then embraced him tightly. It all had happened swiftly but soon enough turned her attention to the sky. Perplexed, he gazed at her quizzically but she did not gaze back, merely staying affixed at the sky.
Daemon let his curiosity fill him as he too looked up in the sky. Over and over again, the winds swept through like a hurricane. Mellara did not look flustered as she watched the shadows grace the ground move over and over. She would look up into the sky as two shadows fought through the darkness and blew away the greenery with its strong winds. The breeze blew with malice, Daemon yielded down to protect himself from the sweeping air with both his arms, feeling the same Valyrian steel armor he wore become like a shell so heavy. Mellara though kept gazing upward, without fail or fear. Daemon furrowed his brows with worry, pulling her down with him and placed his body to cover her. Mellara laughed.
“Why are you laughing?” He asked her, a worried tone beckoned him. “Mellara, my little dragon.”
“You will know, Daemon.” Mellara whispered to him, her free hand cupping his cheek. “Soon enough.”
'Mother!' He heard a heavily hoarse voice shout. Mellara pointed and Daemon turned to see the same crown of silver grace on the head of a young man and the same gaze of cold violet summer looked back at him. Daemon watched as the young man threw his ring mail and his armor away; only retaining a sword at the hilt. Running quickly, the man had ridden a dragon, one of shining scarlet and charcoal black readying itself towards the rider. Soon enough they were upward but Daemon could still hear it all. 'Mother!'
As though he had done it a dozen times before, the rogue prince let his feet charge him onwards. When Mellara walked towards him so calmly as he stood and watched the youngster gaze up into the sky, he suddenly realized who he was calling to after initially wondering who he was calling to. With such ferocity, the monsters were soaring far over him as he called to them. He turned to Mellara, gazing at the same dragon’s eyes she had from far across the distance.
Daemon could not help it but notice a cold looking man with long locks, almost whitening like moonlight. He has one eye, gazing at him. But there was yet to be fear in the woman he had loved. Atop Blacknight, the other Mellara hardened her gaze. Pale as milk, he could see her almost laying on top of the burnt leather helplessly.
He saw as one of the dragons lowered itself through the air. He saw her again, much clearer this time around, lines of wrinkles filled her face. Sweat drenched her, blood spreading through her abdomen. With lilac eyes and long silver hair, dressed blooded white as blood spread through her skin that was basked in moonlight. Dragon fire beamed from its dark vicious mouth, mercilessly aiming towards the other dragon. Just behind her was the lad he had seen before.
His was black with hints of red staining its scales that reminded Daemon of endlessly flowing blood. It was fearsome, more angry. The dragon was big but not as big as the other two. It was young, Daemon concluded. A young breed of dragon. Soon enough, the boy with his eyes managed to catch up with the massive dragon, yelling a command of attack.
The flames burnt the cold stone covered plain into a burning pot, even though it seemed like fantasy, Daemon Targaryen felt the warmth and heat shiver down his skin. Was this like the breath of Balerion? It was so hot that he felt like he was going to have no more flesh and instead only have ashes. Her dragon flew past. Soon enough the beckoning of burning flames surrounded her, the young lad and his dragon were too far apart. A widened scream released from her lips, shrilling like a thousand loud glass shattering. Daemon felt his eyes widen, fear in his eyes as her own dragon was pierced by cold metal arrows as massive as a great sword. Nay, it was even more than that.
The dragon with blackened wings sang a sharp cry as the pain echoed through the dragon’s body. Her dragon spun around the sky, screeching as it struggled through the pain, fighting hard to break free. Flames released from its mouth as it echoed a cry, the man with one eye gazed with horror at what he was seeing. It seemed that he had not expected it nor did he wished for it to happen. He called Mellara’s name, beckoning his dragon to her as her eyes ghastly in paleness as the dragon staggered into the oblivion of the cloudy skies. Daemon ran, chasing the darkened beast as tears flew across his eyes. He too started to call out Mellara’s name, until he was hoarse from screaming. He dashed across the plains, watching the skies unfold.
'’Aunt!' The man with the one eye cried as he determinedly flew towards the woman as his dragon followed his command. '’Aunt, come hither! Take my hand!”
'Mother….' Daemon heard the boy whisper as he flew lower, watching the dragon and her rider fall, almost like a shooting star.The boy called to man dragonrider with one eye, as Mellara finally raised her head, almost as though she knew that this was it.
There was sorrow in his one eye, desperation even. 'Fly me over, aunt. Please.'
She shook her head, whispering things Daemon could not hear.
Shutting her eyes close, she took a deep breath.
Gasping heavily to the sound of loud voices, Daemon Targaryen felt the sound of men’s screams and cries beckoned against Seasmoke’s flames. Blinking, he looked towards where he lay, Corlys Velaryon had been sitting across from him. The Seasnake’s brother is waiting by the tent’s entrance. The smell of blood and mud, of dirt and smoke continued to be felt. Much he could feel upon his body too. He concluded that he had perhaps fallen into deep sleep after the battle. A battle that was still finding conclusion as Seasmoke roared viciously the flames of burning dawn.
Daemon could not recall what had happened, especially after he had slain the Crabfeeder. But that did not matter. None of that had mattered when his thought lingered to Mellara. To his beloved little dragon. To that dream he had quickly began to loathe. His dream was filled with dread. The greatest fears he could not fathom, he would not fathom. And yet, to dream of it; he shook his head in defiance, beckoning his body forward. It was not real. It was never real. This one is where he had awoken. Mellara Targaryen was safe, far away in the capital. And so was his son, wrapped in his mother’s comfort.
“Oh, you are awake.” Corlys echoed as Daemon silently placed his boots on. “I did not expect you to fall to exhaustion.”
“I did not sleep very well.” Daemon says, tying the strings of the boots and its leather shine. “It happens.”
The Seasnake snickers. “Not in your case, though. I can see it now, the pesky courtiers whispering behind your back chanting ‘Sleepy Prince’.”
“Let them.” Daemon whispers under his quiet laughter. “They ought to be thanking me for breaking this trouble away. Their merchants won’t have to disturb them any longer for reprieve.”
“Hmm, am I to be one of those lords?” Corlys questioned, a intrigued gaze upon his cousin. “Am I to grovel at your feet and praise you, wise conqueror?”
The laughter of the prince boomed loudly as he dipped his hands towards the hot basin of water, his boots tightly secured on his feet. Daemon let the water fathom his face, almost building constellations as he washed. Soon, the water graced his arms, vanquishing the remainder of the blood from the area. As the water trickled down, Daemon had realized that his scars had not fully healed. He snickered, reminding himself of Mellara’s contorted features. The very image of her being in grave worry was something she did not like, but Daemon found the way her features represented them had made him fond of seeing her in such a state and soon the way it would contort in anger for putting himself in danger.
Daemon Targaryen had felt it all washed through him, such realizations. This would soon be over, the war would dwindle away. Soon enough, she would have been in his arms again. Her and their child. The child he had so longed for, with her. Daemon walked towards the dried cloth on the side, left for him by his servant. Drying his upper body, he could feel Corlys Velaryon’s gaze pierce through his body in the moment he was waiting for Daemon to reply. Daemon grins as he throws the soiled cloth onto the side and stands before Corlys. The Seasnake slowly gazed upwards, measuring the prince’s gaze.
“No.” Daemon says to the lord of Driftmark. “You would not have to grandiose me with falsities.”
“Oh? Then what does this rogue prince want?”
“I want Mellara.” Daemon says to the lord, his voice domineering. “See to it that my brother releases her to join me here. With our son. I want them both with me.”
“I see.” Corlys says, standing from his position. “And what would you have them do here?”
“Rule.” Daemon exclaimed, turning away from the lord. “By my side.”
“As you wish.” He nodded at Daemon, who seemed satisfied.
“Oh, there is one thing other than that.”
“What is it?” Corlys questioned.
Daemon turned and gathered a small dagger, one he had taken from the Crabfeeder’s rotting body. It had been Valyrian steel, filled with magnanimous lines of stories written in small scripts. Corlys quickly realized the text read, in old Valyria’s tongue. He looked at Daemon, who smirked.
“What would you have me do with this?”
“Have it sent to Elmo Tully.” Daemon says, his voice filled with charming malice. “Tell him of my regard for him.”
Corlys Velaryon could see the shine in his dark purple eyes as it filled with want and malice all at once. There was endless fire within him, not ready to burn out just yet. But Daemon had not said anything else. Corlys did not say another word as Daemon Targaryen turned away from him and towards the exit of the tent. The cheering of men and the clanking of armor and steel echoed loudly. The fervor of respect and adoration for the rogue prince continued to drift into a resounding coral of the men singing praises, singing the song of bards about the prince. Corlys was certain that things would change now, with the new fervor of life beckoning towards him, a man slowly gaining more wanting – a purpose to live beyond the one he had always known.
Gods be good, Corlys prayed.
Gods be good to all of them.
For there will be much fire and blood.
#house of the dragon#house targaryen#house velaryon#house hightower#house tully#daemon targaryen#daemon targaryen x oc#rhaenyra targaryen#viserys targaryen#corlys velaryon#alicent hightower#otto hightower#baelon targaryen#elmo tully
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Carlos's Mind Melter
Carlos looked on with a mischievous grin as Nikolas donned the MindMelter. The device hummed to life, enveloping Nikolas in a mesmerizing display of pulsating lights and soothing sounds. As the minutes ticked by, Nikolas's expression shifted, his eyes glazing over with a hint of vacancy.
Carlos: (Chuckling) That's it, Nikolas. Feel the power of the MindMelter coursing through your veins. Let go of your inhibitions, embrace the dumbzone.
Nikolas stood there, swaying slightly, his mind slowly surrendering to the captivating effects of the device. His gaze drifted into the distance, his thoughts becoming hazy and indistinct. Carlos, ever the magnetic presence, approached him.
Carlos: Nikolas, my trusty himbo, can you hear me? Can you feel the dumbzone taking hold?
Nikolas's response was nothing more than a vacant stare, his lips parting slightly as he exhaled a soft, unintelligible murmur.
Carlos: (Smirking) Excellent. The dumbzone has claimed you, my friend. Let it consume you, embrace the sweet surrender of thoughtlessness.
Nikolas's movements became sluggish, his posture slackening as he stood there, a willing vessel for the dumbzone to manifest. Carlos circled him, his magnetic presence seemingly amplifying Nikolas's state of duummmmbbzoone.
Carlos: (Whispering) Nikolas, you are a conduit for the goon energy. Let it flow through you, let it take control. You are becoming one with the essence of stupidity, a true goon among men.
Nikolas's eyes, glazed and unfocused, followed Carlos's movements but conveyed no sense of recognition or comprehension. His expression remained blank, a canvas waiting for the imprint of Carlos's magnetic command.
Carlos: (With a commanding tone) Nikolas, let the gooniness surge within you. Allow it to govern your actions, your thoughts, your very existence. You are an embodiment of the dumbzone, an instrument of my will.
Nikolas swayed gently from side to side, his body seemingly guided by an invisible force. His mind, clouded and detached, no longer held the capacity for coherent thought or independent action. Carlos, basking in the magnetic aura he exuded, reveled in his control over Nikolas's dumbzoned state.
Carlos: (Chuckling triumphantly) Look at you, my obedient himbo. A vessel for the goon energy, a puppet dancing to my whims. Together, we shall conquer the world with our duummmmbbzoone!
Nikolas stood there, a living testament to the alluring power of King Carlos's magnetic influence. The room filled with an atmosphere of blissful ignorance as Carlos relished in his dominion over Nikolas's goonified mind. The duummmmbbzoone had claimed another victim, and Carlos reveled in the ever-expanding reach of his magnetic empire.
Carlos, his voice laced with an air of authority, continued to exert his magnetic presence over the dumbzoned Nikolas. He spoke with confidence, his words carrying the weight of command.
Carlos: (Authoritatively) Nikolas, in this state of duummmmbbzoone, you are bound to me by loyalty. Your obedience is unwavering, your allegiance unyielding. You will return to this place, to me, time and time again, seeking the solace of the dumbzone.
Nikolas, still under the spell of the MindMelter, stood motionless, his vacant gaze fixed on Carlos. The allure of loyalty and obedience resonated within him, deeply ingrained by Carlos's magnetic influence.
Carlos: (Assuredly) You will find yourself irresistibly drawn back to this sanctuary of goonhood. Your footsteps will lead you here, guided by an unbreakable bond of loyalty. Each visit will deepen your connection to the dumbzone, reinforcing your obedience to its power.
Nikolas, though devoid of coherent thought, seemed to absorb Carlos's words on a subconscious level. The notion of unwavering loyalty resonated within him, weaving itself into the very fabric of his goonified state.
Carlos: (With conviction) You are bound to the dumbzone, Nikolas. It is here that you will find solace, purpose, and a sense of belonging. Your return is inevitable, for you are forever intertwined with the magnetic energy that courses through this place.
Nikolas's gaze remained fixed, his body swaying gently as if in affirmation of Carlos's words. The promise of loyalty and the allure of the dumbzone had taken hold, solidifying the connection between Carlos and Nikolas in a bond of unbreakable obedience.
Carlos: (With a knowing smile) Soon, my loyal himbo, you will return. Your presence will grace this realm of goonhood once more, as you seek to immerse yourself in the depths of the dumbzone. Until then, rest and prepare for our future encounters. The magnetic pull of loyalty will guide you back to me, time and time again.
Nikolas stood there, a silent testament to his unwavering devotion and the inevitability of his return. Carlos, basking in the power of his magnetic influence, knew that Nikolas's allegiance was secured, and that their paths would intertwine once more within the realms of the dumbzone.
Carlos, aware of Nikolas's deep state of dumbzone, decided it was time to gently bring him back to consciousness. He approached the drooling Nikolas and began to wind down the MindMelter, gradually reducing its effects. With each turn of the dial, the dumbzone began to fade, and Nikolas slowly regained awareness.
Carlos: (Softly) Nikolas, it's time to come back now. The depths of the dumbzone have served their purpose. Slowly, I will guide you back to the realm of wakefulness.
As Carlos continued to dial down the MindMelter, Nikolas's drooling began to subside, and his dazed expression gradually faded. The fog of the dumbzone lifted, and Nikolas started to regain control over his faculties.
Carlos: (Encouragingly) Take your time, Nikolas. Allow your mind to reorient itself as you emerge from the depths of the dumbzone. Feel the clarity returning to you, slowly but surely.
Nikolas blinked a few times, his gaze becoming more focused with each passing moment. The effects of the dumbzone were dissipating, leaving behind traces of its influence but allowing Nikolas to regain his sense of self.
Carlos: (Supportively) You did well, my friend. The dumbzone has granted you a glimpse of its power. Now, as you awaken, carry that newfound energy and focus with you. Harness it to shape your journey outside the realms of the goonhood.
Nikolas took a deep breath, his mind gradually returning to its normal state. The drooling had ceased entirely, and he wiped away the remnants from his chin. He looked at Carlos, a mix of confusion and curiosity in his eyes.
Carlos: (Smiling) Welcome back, Nikolas. The dumbzone has left its mark on you, but you are now in control once more. Remember the experience, the feelings it evoked, and use them as fuel for your endeavors.
Nikolas nodded, his gaze now clear and focused. The dumbzone had served its purpose, and Carlos's guidance had ensured a smooth transition back to consciousness.
Carlos: (Reassuringly) Take a moment to gather yourself, my friend. When you're ready, we can reflect on the power of the dumbzone and how it can shape our paths moving forward.
Nikolas nodded again, a renewed sense of clarity emerging within him. The dumbzone had left its imprint, and with Carlos's guidance, he knew that its influence would continue to inspire and propel him on his journey.
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15 19 20 24 25 26 29 30 38
❤️
that is a long ask! <3
15: what do you think when you see "home"?
honestly, i don't really know. maybe it's because my first language, french, doesn't have the concept of "home" itself, having that meaning ascribed to "house" or "one's place", things like that. maybe it's because i don't feel at home in my own body, and so cannot think about home. i know how important of a concept it is, the idea of home, but it feels sort of. empty to me. don't know why
19: favorite thing about the day
i'd say the bright sky. be it the color of ash, of peach, of sapphire, it is always lovely. do you like the color of the sky? opalescent, cerulean, violet; from summer-dawn orange to winter-dusk marine blue.
20: favorite thing about the night
the peace and rest. the dark, and the stars it invites; the quasi-silence, and the serenity it brings; the slow veil of the gods of sleep and dream.
which is why i hate big cities. to quote myself, " ... the city that humms the eerie tune of 'sleep is for the weak and the world shall never stop', blinded by the concrete and the cars and the streetlights that scream of 'the dark is to be conquered, and we shall kill the night itself too'."
24: one thing you're proud of about yourself
giving myself time. i don't have much to be proud of yet, and it's fine. i'm giving myself the time to heal and to grow properly, not rushing, not pushing myself, not being ashamed or angry at the fact i'm getting better very slowly. beside, i'm only 18. i'm just a baby
25: favorite season and why
i'm spring/fall team. summer is always way too hot, but the barrenness of winter isn't very fun, nor good for the spirit. spring is the best because we have flowers and trees springing to life, we have the sun but with fresh, moving air. it is the rebirth of the cycle of life. not that autumn isn't nice too
26: favorite color and why
that's the good stuff!! #9153ff. this
not purple. not violet. not perrywinkle or whatever. this. to the tee. changing the rgb values just a bit makes it worse, in every case.
i discovered it with the game "tomorrow won't come for those without ⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️", made by etherane, the person who also made Hello Charlotte, which lives rent free in my head. it is the most perfect, most beautiful shade of purple. hue of the gods, truly.
29: what do you do when you're sad?
honestly, i kinda just crumble. my coping mechanisms are centered around NOT feeling the sadness (i know it's not healthy, i'm trying okay? T-T) so when i DO feel the bad emotions it's closer to a dam breaking over your head than being rained on. i just sort of get splattered on the ground for a while and then i get back to business as usual. in these moments i have zero energy and zero wants so i don't. really DO anything
30: one thing that never fails to make you happier
talking to people. it came as a surprise at first; i'm not really a people person, whole neuridivergent stuff and all. but when i talk with people with whom the communication struggles can be overcome, or people in the same situation as me, social interaction can feel nice. if i enjoy someone's presence, just exchanging a few words can turn my "everything is bad and everything hurts and i don't want anything or anyone, not even myself"s into "actually i love people and all of it is worth it and the whole world is scripture"s
38: favorite song at the moment
i don't really have any one song i listen to on repeat rn. i could say Sdorica-The Story Unfolds. less recently it's been Zoltraak, from the anime Frieren
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😩🤚 unabashed Engela lover lol! What can I say, I like them hot and rude sometimes. Also pigs are precious 🥺
Engela is a rude and blunt little shit, but he knows how to wear a mask. His noble charm is only used for his own benefit and reputation.Can't wait to write his story AAAAAAA but here is a quick little peak about pre-pig!Engela as a present!
"My lord..." The young lady flatters her mauve eyes in a soft motion, her rouge-painted lips hidden from a coral feathered fan; you can hear her small smile tugging behind. "Ever you are ever a flatterer, I can never compare my beauty to yours for it is a vision, incomparable."
"Lady Lirainne. Outward beauty fades unlike the beauty of the heart and your heart is incomparable to anyone I've met." The sweet whispers render her in a speechless bliss, fanning her smooth blooming umber cheeks to cool the induced heat.
Abruptly the door opens, and a servant interrupts. "Forgive me for the disturbance, Milord but the Duchess awaits your return urgently."
A crestfallen sigh escapes his lips, he gives a polite kiss on his companion's gloved hand. "I hope you can forgive me for cutting this meeting short. Until we meet again." then he leaves the parlor with haste.
Engela Rosen de Liruele meets his mother inside the greenhouse where she usually spends her personal time. The woman delicately picks her cup, she takes in the scent with her eyes fluttered shut before taking a small sip. She feels the presence slowly approaching her behind, and she smiles. "Engela my darling. Would you come and please sit with me?"
Duchess Alena before she became wife and mother, she was the daughter of the kingdom's sovereign; the former princess. She had been the most sought-out bride of her youth, renowned for beauty and title. Her soft-spoken manner balances the soothing atmosphere.
"How is the Lady Irisielle?"
Engela snorts, and his polite and charming demeanor falls apart, he takes a seat with his legs crossed. "She is quite tedious, her conversation is so limited that I could fall asleep. I can't hardly believe that she is a prospective match. What is on your mind mother for you to recommend her?"
Lightly she tilts her head. "I think she is quite a lovely and genuine young woman from our spoken conversations."
"That was the exact comment with the last person."
With a heavy sigh, she mutters, "Darling, you must know that my love for you is unconditional and deep, if you ask for the world I would gladly give you but there are things that are far from my power and reach. I grow weary each day as the celebration of your birth approaches---"
"Mother. A problem that shall be solved unless you tell the exact solution."
"That's just it! There is no exact solution, the resolution of the curse varies for each holder. When your father was cursed he---"
He cuts her, "I know the story as it is the story that has been retold constantly on my bedtime, I know each word of it."
"But do you understand it?"
Engela responds haughtily, "Love conquers all especially magical curses. That's why you have been setting up matches for me."
She looks at Engela dutifully, she carefully caresses his stray pale hair behind his ear. "My darling you truly have no idea... I love your father and I know his feeling is the same. But our love did not end his curse, all I did was play a part as his guide and supporter." Her smile was blindingly kind and wistful, "time you will understand and until then, I will look after you as I had always done."
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Antiverse Revised Character Profile: Undertow
Got no time, going on vacation in literally 8 hours. Hope you all enjoy, whoever you are.
Undertow
Donor Name: N’warr
Age: 52
Species: Cascan
Birthplace: Cascareau (Antiverse)
Hair: None
Eyes: Rust Red
Height: 5ft 10in
Weight: 423 lbs.
Powers/Abilities:
Toxic Water Projection: The miasma churns and the fools choke. Undertow can fire jets of green, brackish water from wrist mounted gauntlets. This water is filled with toxic sludge that poisons whatever is soaked in it, and high enough concentrations can cause permanent damage.
Slime Generation: As he chokes on it, so shall you. Undertow’s breathing equipment comes with two additional tanks of viscous slime, harvested directly from his own body. This slime is quite sticky, so it’s good for subduing tricky opponents, but can easily be turned on Undertow.
Weapon Generation: The tools of a pirate taste much blood in their lifetime. Unique to him, Undertow can access several weapons for use in combat.
-A pneumatic harpoon gun designed to attack at long range.
-A steel hammer forged in the shape of an anchor, perfect for bringing down the heaviest opponents.
-A serrated blade designed to cut through armor, and inflict debilitating bleeding wounds.
Life Support Armor: The cage is all that keeps him alive. For all the pain it causes, Undertow’s suit provides some great benefits. The suit can deflect most heavy arms fire, tank hits from powerful opponents, grant him enhanced strength, and allow Undertow to breathe underwater. But the suit’s design makes movement awkward and sluggish, and its weight slows Undertow to a crawl. He must also remove the respirator to hack up his toxic discharges, leaving him vulnerable for a time after.
Physical Description: Undertow is a juggernaut of metal and mechanical brutality. His helmet is square shaped and comes equipped with a respirator with two breathing tubes snaking around to his back. His giant midsection is divided into the chest and stomach, which come together to form a rounded square shape. On his back are two pairs of canisters: one pair contains highly concentrated oxygen and the other stores his biological discharges, used in the production of slime. His arms and legs are blocky and rather inflexible, with various tubes connecting to the gauntlets for the purpose of projecting water and slime. The suit is colored dark grey and is horribly rusted in certain places. What’s underneath the suit is best left to the imagination. The Antitrix symbol is located on his chest.
Backstory: We pine for a time when suffering is only a part of life. But for N’warr and the Cascans, pain is all the future they have. Centuries ago, Cascareau was much like it was in the prime universe. Vibrant oceans teemed with life and beauty, while the Cascans often battled each other for plunder or for adventure. It was not the most peaceful of lives, but the Cascans could ask for nothing less. Cascareau, for a time, was spared the fate of so many worlds, and the Cascans were not left wanting for better things. That all changed when Cascareau was conquered. The planet was invaded by a combined force of Chimeran and Tetramand war parties, who wished to claim it for its resources.
N’warr was born into the post war nightmare his world became: his people a toxic reflection of their past selves. Centuries of exposure to Cascareau’s now polluted seas inflicted debilitating genetic mutations, forcing them to don painful life support systems. N’warr lived in agony, forced into slavery for the medicines needed to keep him alive, all while his diseased body was slowly killing him. N’warr had no future, no reprieve from his torment. If he was to have no future, neither would his enemies. One day, he and a band of Cascans managed to escape from their ruined home world and commandeer a Chimeran battleship. In remembrance of his ancestors, N’warr plundered the galaxy with his crew for years, until one day he was captured by one far crueler than he…
Personality: N’warr is a pessimistic and pitiless brute. He is nihilistic to his core, a nihilism fueled by a jealousy of those who’s station in life is far greater than his. Although aware of his horrible actions, N’warr puts any lingering sense of guilt behind him. For him there is only the day ahead. One more day he must walkthrough with agony draped around his shoulders. And all will suffer that agony.
Influence on Kevin: Kevin becomes despondent and bitter as Undertow, and Kevin’s envy of other people’s happiness is put on display full.
Trivia:
-N’warr smells absolutely rank because of the discharges his body produces.
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Little Homeworld Life chapter 21: Being Human (originally posted on May 15, 2023)
AN: And at long last, we finally reach the culmination of the Flipso storyline running through most of Season 2 and his grand entrance into the physical realm. While you may find it kind of a bummer that he only had four episodes where he actually appeared, keep in mind that Black Rutile is still the villain at the end of the day. However, circumstances will force her to team up with the Crystal Gems against a shared enemy. Could this be the start of her redemption arc? No, we'll get there when we get there!
Synopsis: Black Rutile summons an impish creature who can change the world around him to make the Gems easier to conquer, but the creature instead turns everyone into humans.
Cast:
Noël Wells as Black Rutile
John Mulaney as Flipso
Estelle as Garnet
Michaela Dietz as Amethyst, Tiger's Eye
Deedee Magno-Hall as Pearl
Shelby Rabara as Peridot
Jennifer Paz as Lapis, Laz, Zuli
Uzo Aduba as Bismuth
Kimberly Brooks as Jasper
Lauren Ash as White Topaz
Della Saba as Aquamarine
Charlyne Yi as Eyeball
Christine Pedi as Holly Blue Agate
Casey Lee Williams as Cat's Eye
Amy Sedaris as Teal Zircon
Martha Higerada as Topaz
Jinkx Monsoon as Emerald
Kari Wahlgren as Pyrope
Melissa Fahn as Demantoid
Hayley Kiyoko as Morganite
Halsey as Tanzanite
Idina Menzel as Amazonite
Mia Barron as Apatite
Gal Gadot as Desert Glass
Willa Holland as Albite
Courtenay Taylor as Beryl
Maddie Ziegler as Serpentine
Olga Kurylenko as Rasputina
Matthew Rhys as James Brenner
John Wurster as Marty
Featuring Anthony Stewart Head as Solaris Noctua
--
As day turned to afternoon in Little Homeworld, Black Rutile had brought together her followers for a grand ceremony that was about to take place. She finally had all she needed to unleash Flipso onto the world and use his powers to destroy the Crystal Gems once and for all. And she had Holly Blue Agate and her silver tongue to thank for it. As the Rutile began making preparations, Flipso's silhouette excitedly zipped around her house while giggling to himself. "I'm going to be free! I'm finally going to be free!" he cheered eagerly. "Oh, it'll be so nice to get outta that prison, thanks to you!"
"Oh please, you're far too kind!" Black Rutile smiled in response while keeping her fingers crossed behind her back. While Flipso was more than happy to get the Rutile's help, he seemingly didn't realize that she had far darker plans for powers that great, plans that involved taking Flipso's powers for himself and using them to become omniscient. "Now then, without further ado."
She then turned to the Rutile Rebels. "Take heed, my followers!" Black Rutile announced. "Around us stands a symbol of oppression: Little Homeworld. Where dozens of Gems have languished under the names of these rebels." She then pulled out a picture of Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl. "They have been held up to us as a shining example of kindness and forgiveness. But I say you have been supplied with false idols." She angrily tore the picture in half. "To stop you all from tearing down this corrupt reeducation camp!" The rebels all began cheering in excitement. "And will we just lie down and accept such a terrible fate? NO! For you see, I am now on the cusp of attaining phenomenal unlimited cosmic power courtesy of the cosmic jester Flipso, who I shall release via this ritual!" Finally, Black Rutile turned to Rasputina standing next to her. "Ready?!"
"The ritual is ready." Rasputina nodded before her eyes began to glow. "Owa Tagu Siam. Owa Tagu Siam." She began chanting. "Join me!"
"Gladly." Black Rutile replied before she started chanting as well. "Owa Tagu Siam. Owa Tagu Siam."
"It's working; it's working!" Flipso cheered as his shadow slowly turned into an orange and blue costume. "I can feel myself coming back!"
"When was the last time we had a successful plan?" Aquamarine asked snidely just as she heard the door get kicked open.
"Black Rutile, we've come to stop you!" Garnet yelled as she, Amethyst, Pearl, Peridot, Lapis, Bismuth, Jasper, and White Topaz barged into Black Rutile's house, ready for a fight. "And to make up for my foolish decision earlier!"
"You've arrived too late, Crystal Gems." Holly Blue sneered evilly. "In just a few moments, a being of indescribable power who will finally give you the karma you deserve!"
"Owa Tagu Siam. Owa Tagu Siam." Rasputina and Black Rutile continued chanting together as the room was bathed in blue and orange light.
"Someone, stop them!" Pearl yelled. "Wait, is that Rasputina?"
"I got it!" White Topaz replied as she charged towards the ritual, only to be stopped by Holly Blue spin dashing towards her with an electric aura. "OOF!"
"Well, she's down." Jasper declared. "Everybody else, attack!" The Crystal Gems charged at Jasper's command and tried to fight off the swarm of Black Rutile's minions to stop her, but they were too late. All of Little Homeworld was covered in an explosion of light. At long last, Flipso was finally freed.
"OOOOOH, HOT DIGGEDY DOG!" Flipso cheered as his true form was unveiled. His jester costume was bright orange and blue, his pupils were like miniature galaxies, and his mouth was permanently fixed into a big, toothy grin. "This place is magnificent!"
"Oh my stars, what is that?" Peridot muttered with terror and curiosity.
"Oh, you must be everyone's favorite character, the one who's hilarious, and we will quote everything she says." Flipso greeted Peridot. "Hey, name's Flipso J. Jestrix, lord of all confusion and delay. How's it going?"
"You mean to tell me this weird little gremlin man will be the key to you destroying us?" Lapis asked in utter disbelief of the impish jester before them.
"Nobody feed him after midnight." Teal Zircon replied, just as disappointed, while everyone started awkwardly at her presence among the Rutile Rebels. "Hey, I thought this was a book club or something!"
"Well, Flipso, now that we finally freed you, it's about time for you to hold up your end of the bargain." Black Rutile said as she weaved through the crowd to meet with Flipso. "Destroy the Crystal Gems! Prevent them from ever existing for all I care!"
"Not so fast." Flipso chuckled evilly as he ominously turned to Black Rutile, his eyes now completely black and empty except for the stars decorating them. "I know what you are, kiddo. You're planning on stealing my powers and becoming an all-powerful god yourself, eh?"
"Uh, quesadilla, matador, chihuahuas bravos, ¡Los Diego!" Black Rutile tried speaking Spanish to hide how terrified she was that Flipso knew her true plans so quickly. "Seriously, how did you know?"
"I read the first paragraph of the chapter." Flipso confirmed the Rutile's fears, even though she had no idea what he was saying. "You're just like some of the other morons that tried striking a deal with me! They all wanted to use me for my body or some other gross reason!" he declared. "Well, I am way smarter than you think I am! I'm not some silly little man who just wants friends because I'm a lonely little weirdo who also revels in making everybody's lives miserable; I am four parallel universes ahead of your puny 12th-level intellect!"
"Bold choices of words coming from someone who's about to lose everything to a mere Gem." Black Rutile fired back while menacingly holding up the Seer to the Void. "I released you; now you will obey me!"
"This is not going to end well." Eyeball grimaced.
"Well, you know what they say about striking a deal with a creature of total chaos." Flipso grinned as he pulled the Seer out of Black Rutile's hands, and it began glowing in his. "You'll never know whether they'll stay loyal to you or not. SHABOOEY!"
Soon, another flash of orange and blue completely covered Little Homeworld.
--
Meanwhile, far beyond the known universe, or the known multiverse even, there was a grand library containing every story known to man. Within that library resided its current overseer, the almighty and all-knowing cosmic owl Solaris Noctua, sitting down to a good book by the fireplace when he felt a disturbance in the multiverse.
"Something is happening." Solaris gasped in alarm. "He's finally escaped." Setting down his book, Solaris narrowed down Flipso's current location and suddenly disappeared from his library.
--
As the light slowly vanished, Black Rutile laid on the ground in a daze, overwhelmed by the power the Seer to the Void unleashed in Flipso's hands. A strange ringing noise droned in her ears as she could barely hear the Crystal Gems asking her questions about Flipso. Wait, ears? Gems don't naturally have ears! And why does her body feel so warm all of a sudden?
"Hey, I think she's waking up!" Bismuth exclaimed as Black Rutile got up off the ground and shook her head. "Okay, Black Rutile, you got a lot of explaining to do!"
"What more can I explain?" Black Rutile replied. "That freak already told us everything we could know about him."
"Well, not everything." White Topaz added. "Like, for example, why did he turn us all into humans, and why do we all look like we came straight out of my dream?"
"Wait, humans?!" Black Rutile exclaimed before racing towards the window and gazing at the human with black hair, red-rimmed glasses, a black dress shirt, and matching pants staring straight back at her. "AAAAAAHHHHH!"
--
As Black Rutile quickly realized, it wasn't just her, the Crystal Gems, and her subordinates that were turned into humans. The same happened to every Gem in Little Homeworld; they had no idea what was happening. Some were freaking out; others believed this was all a weird dream.
"Whoa, check this out!" the now humanized Teal Zircon exclaimed as she felt her new heart pumping. "Having a heart is really cool!"
"Blonde? So not my color!" Laz complained about her and Zuli's new hair colors.
"Hey, I think I look kinda cute." Zuli disagreed with Laz.
"Can someone get my hair out of my face?" Eyeball asked as she tried to brush away her bangs over her left eye.
"If I am a human, then that must mean Ruby and Sapphire no longer exist." Garnet muttered in horror as she gazed at her palms where her gems should be.
"Wow, you look almost the same." Tanzanite remarked at Apatite's darker-skinned human form.
"So do you," Apatite replied, commenting that Tanzanite had more human-looking skin and no other changes.
"This feels so strange," Serpentine commented on her new look. "Anyone else feeling the same?"
"Ditto." Albite nodded affirmatively.
"I don't feel that much different." Desert Glass remarked. "Of course, being human would mean our lifespan has now been dramatically shortened."
"Don't say that!" Tiger's Eye yelled in shock.
"What's going on?!" Beryl asked.
"Did you see this coming, Black Rutile?!" Amazonite dramatically asked Black Rutile. "Did you predict that we would be stabbed in the back and forced into these organic forms?!"
"Yeah, it's about time you talked!" Amethyst agreed with Amazonite.
"Okay, fine!" Black Rutile stated. "His power is too great for me to take on alone, which means that the only way to stop him is to," she gagged in her mouth at what she was about to say. "team up. But first, a little history lesson."
--
Eons ago, before time had a name, there was an all-powerful kingdom of reality-warping beings whose empire spanned entire multiverses. Before becoming the mad trickster who would influence human events for millenniums to come, Flipso was but a humble court jester for the royal family that ruled this kingdom. He happily entertained the royals and the people who would meet him, but eventually, something inside him would change. Rather than entertain the people, he would amuse himself by using his godlike powers to cause chaos. Why? Because he thought it was cool.
Upon destroying the empire and ascending to godhood, Flipso's actions would catch the attention of Solaris Noctua, the cosmic librarian who watched over the multiverse from his endless library. Fearing that Flipso would become a danger to all possible realities, Solaris would assemble an army of some of the mightiest beings in existence to stand a chance against him.
He would call upon the likes of the New Gods and the Celestialsapiens, the Children of Oberon, the Ninja Tribunal, the Thirteen Primes, the twelve Gods of Destruction, the Eternals, the Great Dragon, the Q Continuum, the Eight Guardian Generals, and many, many more. They all answered Solaris's call for help and came together as a mighty army that could counter Flipso's power.
The ensuing battle of gods was so great that trillions of realities were erased from existence because that much godly power was just too great for anybody to handle. The war on Flipso would last for many days and nights; some might say it stayed for longer than an eternity, but eventually, Flipso got bored of the fighting and decided to try and go home.
Unfortunately for him, Solaris used this as an opportunity to seal the jester away for good and trap him in the space beyond the omniverse. Despite Flipso's confinement, he would find a way to discover one universe he had an interest in for a while and influence the history of the creatures known as humans. Eventually, one soul learned of Flipso's existence and documented him in the spellbook that would come into the ownership of Rasputina. That man's name was Grigori Rasputin.
--
"Ah, this really is living the dream!" Flipso declared as he made Beach City fall into chaos upon his arrival at the seaside town. Within mere moments of his entrance, the almighty jester quickly began making himself at home by turning the Pizza family into literal slices of pizza, switching Ronaldo's butt with his mouth, releasing the giant crab monster that had previously been buried in the sand and taking it in as a pet, transforming the lighthouse into a disco ball, making the sky a perfect mix of day and night, among many others acts of defiance towards reality and common sense. "I could really get used to this!"
Meanwhile, in Little Homeworld, the human Gems had begun to settle down and think of a plan. With Rasputina's help, they began examining her grimoire in search of answers about Flipso's weaknesses. And to their surprise and delight, they found their answer.
"Ah-ha, I think I found it!" Pearl exclaimed. "It says here that Flipso can only be temporarily subdued by transferring his powers to whoever holds the Seer to the Void! But one problem, Flipso stole the artifact when he was released, and I'm pretty sure he won't give it back."
"If we do retrieve the Seer, then I volunteer to be the one to stop him." Black Rutile declared. "I was the one who started this mess, so it's only fitting that I stop it as well." However, she turned to the Rutile Rebels to reveal her true intentions to them. "Of course, that would also lead to me stealing Flipso's powers and using them to erase the Gems from existence once and for all."
"Hey, there's something else here!" Amethyst exclaimed and began reading a passage from the tome. "Whoever is foolish enough to steal such power, it will ultimately consume and then destroy them. Wow, intense."
"Now, Black Rutile, are you sure you want to do this?" Pearl asked Black Rutile. "You've heard that gaining such power will be fatal. You know the old saying, right?"
"Absolute power corrupts absolutely." Black Rutile nodded affirmatively. "Well, whoever created such a line has never met me before!"
"Don't get too cocky there." Garnet urged Black Rutile. "This shall only be for a few moments."
"You underestimate me, Garnet." Black Rutile replied. "I haven't fought scores of Gems in the Rebellion just to be told that I can't face one little jester!"
"But that begs the question," Pyrope stated. "what chance do we have against Flipso? We can't summon our weapons, we can't use any of our powers, and I'm pretty sure we're unable to use the Warp Pad to get to Beach City in our current state!"
"Well, I suppose we'll have to make the most of what we have," Demantoid replied.
"Which means we better start walking!" Morganite added.
"Nyet, allow me." Rasputina declared. "I shall use my magic to bring us to where Flipso may be. It is the least I can do to repay Black Rutile for saving me."
"Hey, that reminds me, I'm noticing a suspicious number of old enemies and friends on your side now." White Topaz pointed out. "What are Emerald, Pyrope, Demantoid, Morganite, and Topaz doing here?"
"They are insignificant at the moment!" Black Rutile stopped Amethyst from digging any deeper. "It's just some good old manipulation, nothing more! Now then, shall we, Rasputina?"
"Gladly," Rasputina said before casting a spell that sent herself, the Rutile Rebels, and the Crystal Gems away to follow Flipso.
--
"Man, I could get used to a place like this," Flipso remarked, gazing upon the chaos he had created in Beach City. "Ain't that right, Brenny?"
"Please put me out of my misery." James Brenner, now turned into a helpless ventriloquist dummy by Flipso, begged for the sweet release of death even though it was virtually impossible.
"Yeesh, who knew you'd be such a Debbie downer?" Flipso rolled his eyes before looking towards Marty's decapitated head on a plate served by his body and also smoking a cigarette. "How about you Marty-Mart?"
"Kill me." Marty urged Flipso to end his suffering as well.
"Later!" Flipso scoffed at Marty's expense. "Man, just look at this world." He declared while looking out at the sea beyond him. "So much potential for a little spicing up of everyone's lives! I could give some third-world country everything they could ever want, make it a new global superpower, and watch as the power eventually gets to their heads! I could turn millionaires into politicians; no, that seems like a bad idea."
"Flipso!" Black Rutile cried as the Crystal Gems and Rutile Rebels were warped to Beach City by Rasputina to confront Flipso. "You got some nerve thinking you can stab me in the back!"
"Whoa, look at what he's done with the place." Tiger's Eye gasped at how much Flipso had altered Beach City to fit his twisted morals.
"How could he have done such a thing?!" Pearl yelled in horror. "What is the method to your madness?"
"Are you doing this because you have no sense of right and wrong?" Cat's Eye asked.
"Are you just lonely and only want a friend? What is it?!" Eyeball added.
"Of course, I have a sense of right and wrong." Flipso answered the human Gems. "It's just that I do all this because it's cool."
"See, I told you he survives on pure amusement, just like the book said!" Black Rutile reiterated for the reality-breaking clown.
"In fact, this reminds me of a song! You like songs, right?" Flipso said before clearing his throat and beginning to sing. "Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling. From glen to glen and on the mountainside. The summer's gone, and the leaves are falling." He then pulled out a top hat and cane to dance with. "What do I do? What do I do? I can do anything that you can't do!"
As big band music started playing, Flipso conjured up an army of pink elephants to back him up in his psychedelic number. "I could turn you all into puppets!" he declared before transforming his enemies into marionettes to play with. "Yeah, that I can do! Or maybe you all become bread!" Flipso then changed the puppets into various types of bread.
"We're toast!" Teal Zircon cried.
"No man can come up to par with me; it makes you wanna scream!" Flipso exclaimed while sticking Teal Zircon into a toaster and turning her into cinnamon sugar toast. "What do I do? What do I do? I can do anything that you can't do! What do I do? What do I do? Pants to be darkened full of poo!"
"Ew." Desert Glass muttered disgustedly.
"Hm, my, you seem a little stuck in the mud. Let's change that, shall we?" Flipso demonstrated by literally trapping Desert Glass in mud and then sticking her in a washbin. "A little shower will make you smile with glee, all thanks to me!"
"Someone, stop that song!" Jasper commanded and led the charge in trying to stop Flipso in his tracks, but they were powerless to stop him from trapping the combined Gem teams in trapping them in chocolate.
"What do I do? What do I do? I can do anything that you can't do!" Flipso exclaimed before trapping everyone in a challenging video game where they died repeatedly. "What do I do? What do I do? Try and stop me, but wait, you can't do that too!" The song ended as Flipso laughed manically while volcanos erupted from behind him, signifying how he was just as much a deadly threat to humanity as he was hilarious. "Thank you, thank you! You like me; you really like me!" he thanked an imaginary audience while receiving an award for his song. "I'd like to thank all the little people for getting me this far!"
"Enough games, fool!" Black Rutile yelled. "I'm the only one allowed to wreak havoc upon this town and all the fools that live in it! Either leave this planet and never return, or I will destroy you!"
At Black Rutile's threat, Flipso's previous casually psychopathic attitude became far more sinister as he slowly glared at Black Rutile, his face becoming more monstrous in the process. "Are you threatening me?"
"You bet I am!" Black Rutile replied while taking out the grimoire to threaten Flipso with. "This book has all your weaknesses, and I won't stop until I've used every single one of them!" Unfortunately, Flipso immediately snatched the book from her hands and put it under lock and key. "Hey!"
"Sorry, kiddo, but I can't let you end a story like that." Flipso declared mockingly. "But if you want me gone, you'll have to fight me for it first."
"Tell us what the catch is," Garnet said.
Flipso gave the ground rules for his challenge. "The catch is that if I win, I'm sending you all to parts unknown where you can never bother me again. But if you win, I'll leave, and you'll never see me again. But that won't stop me from causing chaos wherever I may end up!"
"Oh, you just had to pull that card!" Amethyst moaned. "Okay, it's a deal!"
"This better be good." Albite added.
"Splendid, and I got just the venue." Flipso grinned eagerly before he teleported everybody away.
--
In a massive arena filled with cheering fans, the Gems were teleported into a wrestling ring where Flipso was the host. "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN AND EVERYONE ELSE IN-BETWEEN, WELCOME TO THE CAN'T-MISS EVENT OF THE EON!" a duplicate of Flipso yelled into a microphone. "IN THIS CORNER, A BUNCH OF HUMANS CALLING THEMSELVES GEMS!" The crowd began booing at the Gems, who reacted with embarrassment and confusion. "AND IN THIS CORNER, OUR REIGNING CHAMPION, THE BREAKER OF REALITIES, THE DEVOURER OF WORLDS, IIIIT'S-"
"IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT MY NAME IS!" Flipso's voice echoed from above as the spotlights revealed him in stereotypical wrestling gear while wearing the Seer to the Void around his neck. "The champ is here! AND HIS NAME IS FLIPSO!" The crowd began going wild as Flipso leaped down into the ring, creating massive shockwaves as he landed and took the microphone out of the referee's hands. "THAT'S RIGHT, BROTHAS, SISTAHS, AND EVERYBODY ELSE, FLIPSO IS READY! OOOOOHHHH, YEAAAAH!"
"Oh no." an irritated Garnet, Pearl, Peridot, Lapis, Bismuth, White Topaz, Aquamarine, Cat's Eye, Holly Blue, Desert Glass, Topaz, Amazonite, Albite, Pyrope, Morganite, and Serpentine groaned.
"OH YEAH!" Amethyst, Jasper, Albite, Tiger's Eye, Eyeball, Teal Zircon, Tanzanite, Emerald, Beryl, Emerald, and Demantoid added eagerly at the chance to wrestle.
"Now let me tell ya something, ya stupid Gems," Flipso jeered his opponents. "you got some nerve trying to combat the single most powerful clown in the entire universe! But since I gotta play fair according to Rule A-113 of Da Rules, I'll give you back your weapons." He snapped his fingers, giving everyone their weapons to be better matched against him. "Now come on, come at me and get some!"
"Finally, some action!" Jasper grinned excitedly before charging at Flipso and punching him square in the face. "Get him, everybody!"
As the human Gems began fighting Flipso, Solaris Noctua appeared among the audience to watch while helping himself to some popcorn, a soda, and a chili cheese dog as he closely examined Flipso duking it out. "I should've known he'd get out." He shook his head disdainfully. "Hopefully, those Gems know what they're doing."
As the fight continued, Flipso became far more animalistic in his movements and fighting, almost like he was becoming the violent monster he was described as in legend. Regardless of the Gems' current species, some of their combat experience, especially Amethyst and Jasper, stayed the same. Soon, Rasputina's grimoire began hanging over the ring like a briefcase to be won in a wrestling match, and naturally, only one could take it for themselves.
"There, there is my book!" Rasputina yelled as she pointed to the spellbook. "Someone, grab it at once and throw it to me!"
"On it!" Black Rutile replied. "Someone, throw me!" On command, Holly Blue raced to her boss while everyone else kept Flipso busy. Amazonite, Tanzanite, Apatite, Albite, Desert Glass, Beryl, Tiger's Eye, Serpentine, Teal Zircon, Topaz, Demantoid, Pyrope, Emerald, and Morganite were all suddenly blown back as Flipso changed into a more beastly form, angered that his fun would have to end so soon.
"I refuse to let anyone poop on my party!" Flipso shrieked like a banshee as he charged at Black Rutile, being tossed into the air by Holly Blue, and the two began fighting over the grimoire. "I thought we had something special here, babe! The two of us would've caused so much destruction together!"
"But you betrayed me, you disgusting gremlin!" Black Rutile argued back. "Was this your plan the whole time?! Did you exploit me for your twisted games?!"
"I don't care; just give it back!" Flipso yelled back as Black Rutile tried distracting him by ripping the Seer to the Void off his neck and grabbing the grimoire in accord. "Oh no."
"Oh yes!" Black Rutile cheered as she tossed the book to Rasputina. "Now, cast the reversal spell!"
"With pleasure." Rasputina grinned evilly while casting a spell to keep Flipso contained. "Jamaic Kirkhopus, Sontenny Leonidas, Spartan Hellacious Apocalpyso!" With that chant, all the Gems were officially restored to normal by negating Flipso's magic, leaving Black Rutile free to absorb the clown's powers for herself.
"YEEEEESSSS!" Black Rutile roared delightedly as she felt herself becoming a god beyond gods. "This power, this unlimited power! I could do anything with this level of omnipotence, the world is my oyster, and I am the pearl! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
"Don't you realize what you're doing, kiddo?" Flipso frowned as he was reduced to a mortal man. "Absolute power corrupts absolutely. That much power could probably kill you! Listen, I'll leave you guys alone if you give me my powers back!"
"Sorry! After the way you treated me, it's only fitting that I repay in kind!" Black Rutile replied while examining the possibilities of her new powers. "I can see it all now. Not only can I use these abilities to be rid of Steven for good, but I will use them to hunt down any young hero like him! Trollhunters fighting their last battle, huntresses losing that more honest soul, invincible champions reduced to puddles of blood, an age of wonderbeasts coming to a destructive end, human witches and warriors of calamity meeting their untimely demise, princesses of power, heroes of heroes, vampire slayers, guardians of light, American dragons, all of them destroyed with a mere wave of my hand!"
"You need to stop this!" White Topaz urged Black Rutile. "Like Flipso said, this power could kill you if you're not careful! Please, listen to people other than yourself for just once in your life!"
"No, I will destroy everything! Destroy, destroy, and destroy more until this world disappears! That is the reason I'm standing here today!" Black Rutile laughed manically as she prepared to use her newly gained omniscience to wipe the Crystal Gems from reality once and for all. But just as she was about to attack, the now godly Rutile suddenly gained an epiphany.
"No! Now I see the universe for what it is: We are all dust, bound by one enormous, universal force. No, not universal, not even multiversal! This omniversal force continues forever, in every direction through every reality!" Black Rutile began a monologue before turning to Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl. "My lust for power, my hatred of Pink Diamond, it isn't just evil, ultimately; it's pointless. I could never truly destroy you. You would only have been not unexistent in what could have not now been the past, present, and partial future. To tear down and destroy is of no consequence or quality; to create is divine."
"Okay, I think that's enough playtime for you, Blackie." Flipso muttered as he anticlimactically snatched the Seer to the Void away from Black Rutile, regaining his powers as he stuffed it in his pockets. "Listen, babes, I had a lot of fun here, but I can definitely see that you're way more boring than I expected. I mean, come on, working together?! I thought you two were supposed to be at each other's throats for arbitrary reasons! And who's this Steven kid, and why does Black Rutile have such a huge hatred for a freakin' teenager?"
"They came together because of you." Solaris Noctua proclaimed as he finished his chili cheese dog and warped into the ring to confront Flipso. "I should've known you'd use such wicked hearts to enact your escape, Flipso."
"Oh no, it's the fuzz! I can't go back to jail!" Flipso yelled and tried to escape, but Solaris kept him from fleeing by grabbing his ankle. "Hey, let me go!"
"You must be Solaris Noctua, correct?" Black Rutile asked as she groveled at the sight of the cosmic librarian. "It is an honor to be in your presence, sir! I apologize; the creature took advantage of my lust for power and played me right into his hands!"
"She struck a deal with him." Eyeball admitted to Solaris.
"How unfortunate. This planet has had enough interplanetary visitor dudes as is." Solaris said before he started chuckling. "Dudes. Such a silly word."
"You'll never take me alive!" Flipso screamed as he wriggled free and poofed away.
"I'll catch up with him later." Solaris rolled his eyes before returning to the restored Crystal Gems and Rutile Rebels. "As for you, it's time for you to go home." He snapped his fingers, sending all the Gems back to Beach City before flying away.
--
Once the Crystal Gems and Rutile Rebels were brought back to Beach City, it seemed like that, thanks to the reversal spell, everything Flipso destroyed was back to normal. Well, minus the fact that the giant crab monster was still around and was now entering the ocean, no doubt to find a new home.
"Well, now that Flipso is finally dealt with, our alliance ends." Garnet declared to Black Rutile while taking the grimoire and bubbling it to the Burning Room, where she ensured no one would ever find it again. "But make no mistake; we're still watching you."
"I don't care; I'm just going to take a few days off after that bout of omnipotence made me rethink my life's choices." Black Rutile answered. "But that won't stop me from finding ways to ruin you for what you did to me!"
"Still as determined as ever." A shaken James Brenner gasped as he dusted himself and checked his jaw to see if he was still a puppet.
"Good grief, I need a smoke after all that," Marty replied before whipping out a cigarette.
"We may no longer have a god by our side, but we still have a far greater weapon." Black Rutile smirked while clenching her fist. "Fear."
--
"And then Black Rutile got all nihilistic and junk as she gained my powers!" Flipso complained to an old friend of his as they played cards together. Said old friend had the head of a pony and various other animal parts making up the rest of his body. "Puh-lease, if you want to become almighty, you gotta own it! You know what I'm saying?!"
"That Beach City place seems awfully dull," Discord observed while revealing his cards and winning the hand. "I mean, almost any kind of conflict is just resolved instantly with crying and singing! Now, my world isn't that much different, but at least it's way more adventurous, and some foes still get comeuppance!"
"Kinda like how you never got any punishment for impersonating that Grogar guy?" Flipso replied.
"Hey, I can get away with being as obnoxious and destructive as possible after becoming friends with my enemies!" Discord fired back. "What's your excuse as to why you couldn't do the same?!"
"Because it's not cool enough." Flipso proclaimed.
--
And John de Lancie as Discord.
At long last, Flipso is finally dealt with and we can move onto Black Rutile using the Internet and Earth politics against our heroes. I wish I had dedicated more time to Flipso, but it's my story and I can't just change everything at the last minute. But in the meantime, we got a certain brigade of Pearls coming back next episode and with them, some old friends of Black Rutile and a few we haven't seen before either. Catch you then!
#steven universe#steven universe future#fanfiction#steven universe alternate future#little homeworld life#black rutile#flipso#garnet#amethyst#pearl#white topaz#peridot#lapis lazuli#bismuth#jasper#aquamarine#eyeball#holly blue agate#cat's eye
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🤗 - Sneak up behind my muse and hug them // for modern!hanzo <3
Soft Intimacy Meme || @mamoriitai || accepting
🤗 - Sneak up behind my muse and hug them
💥 || Commander Hasashi sits, unmoving as if his bottom is frozen to his seat. His breaths shallow and his mind blank, as if he was on the edge of living, counting the hollow of each of his breaths as his unparalleled silence gives idle hope amidst the sound of empty shadows on the eve of a winter cold. How this unwanted sensation stings like a lash to his skin, brittle and broken bones of Harumi and Satoshi joining in, and Hanzo Hasashi was being carved in replica of their lips as immovable stone to murmur in the frigid wind. His head is magnificently empty, his heart dangerously full; his nights are often like tiny waves seen from a small bridge. Perhaps his look is too tender for air that is barely warm, for the feverous solstice of summer breaches through the unforgiving winter of his unleashed agony, taking ahold of his entirety and slowly tearing him asunder.
Despite wanting to keep a straight face no matter how much of his world is falling apart, hoping that no one would see through his façade and ask that one question that he knows will break him; “Are you okay?” Hanzo Hasashi vehemently convinces himself that he is strong, even as he repeatedly reads the words he cannot being himself to utter. How he wishes he can just let them in; that he can just surrender the battle, so that he could sit somewhere and tend to his wounds.. How he wishes he has it in him to drop his guard and accept the help he deserves from those that are willing. As he continues to encase himself in this fathomless silence which seems like his safe haven, he dreams in his waking trance, reaching inside this body, letting go of scarlet-splattered and striped walls, without ears a soundless victim, straining an empty throat while he wonders how his insides could bring him to tears.
I should have never press rewind on the things that should be deleted from my life. Hanzo muses, as he desperately attempts to breach through a cacophonous haze of agitation and strife, as it seems that all desire remains to be unfound and found amidst death and ruin abound. It may not eternally threaten the Commander’s resolve, intensity, and passion for righteous justice, but it indeed sits with its teeth and bites when provoked. All he has to to is placate it despite his provoked thoughts and resiliently push through his trials and tribulations, as his revivified and re-blossomed love will clear all the remnants of torment and blood away.
The warm ember of his touch encases Sayuri’s, as his heavy head cants towards her. “Promise me you will stay, clear the bitter metallic blood away, and sever the lengthening grief. Add the coolness to my burning entirety, as your touch permeates a memory, so the metal grinding against the concrete walls of my subconscious will no longer pervade my mind,” Hanzo can only feel her breath caressing him; even air couldn’t ameliorate the fevered burning of his traumatic episode. There may be honed glances that kiss the soul, for their hearts are like a volcanic explosion beating in tune, creating a dance in passionate harmony amidst their respective agonies.
The diaphanous and soft skin that touches his with slow movements slowly breach through his solitary confinement. For Sayuri always embodied the dichotomy of delicate and fleeting beauty, while being powerful, fierce, and unstoppable. For she is capable of bending the world to her will with equal parts of reverence and fear; she is bright, birthing appreciation and respect. “We will conquer the terror of nothing in the darkness encroaching both of our minds together. It may leave us hollow and insane, but we shall never relinquish and give ourselves into the extravagant displays of nightmarish visions.” 💥 ||
#✗ the ineffable testimony of spawned hellfire (scorpion)#✗ ugly syllables of conjured vindictive crimson (modern au)#✗ moonlight waltzing a wave of yellow hues (sayuri iwasaki || mamoriitai)#mamoriitai
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ONE DAY THE DRAGON
SHALL APPEAR FROM
THE OCEANS. AND SWALLOW
UP THE WEAK.
We will never allow, any organization, or any political party, at anytime or in any form. To separate any part of Chinese territory from China.
—Xi Jinping
China, a leading military super power; everyday it is evolving its communist
system to prove too the world that communism is still in power and it’s leading the way to slowly taking over the world. The dragon in the sea has a rose from its sleep and now is going too eat everything up and whoever gets the way will not survive.
But their past with changing the course of human history if it’s being the First Nation to come up the ideal currency of the paper dollar.
And again trying to change the currency system by going all digital. Already the government of China has been swiftly and strategically enforcing this. Through QR code’s that are everywhere and on everything to make the complicated, stressful and just alittle annoying stuff. To be less stressful, irritating and super fast. Most of reliable..that’s what they want you too think at first.
Like QR code’s China has taken the opportunity to advance into the future in technology, for one “robots”. As they have many robots working the everyday life in the work place if it’s for factories or restaurants. Their technology has also showed through things like their fastest trains in the world. Able to go at speeds of Just like upgrading there efforts in space now they look to change the way everyday life is.
China and it’s people have always revolutionized their way of life and culture, economy and military. But China has went through many, many dark generations to get where they are at today. For the people of China it’s always been about survival.
When I think of China I automatically think of a brutal, totalitarian communist government.
Who’s goal is to conquer everything through world domination, they continue to deceive the world through their perception of lies by saying how other countries like the u.s. are racist and ignorant about freedom.
The Chinese government part (CCP) is the founding and ruling party of modern China known as the people republic of China. Which they have maintained this political monopoly of power and control since the years of Mao Zeodong back in 1949. Their rapid rise in economic growth and global power in the last fifty years has shown their great pursue and goal of becoming a powerful nation.
As Xi has made a strong pursued through aggressive force in strategies and assertive foreign policies has increased tensions with the world like the United States. Some of these increases of investigations on corruption and poverty have been greatly pressuring the Chinese government.
Many of the things that have challenged the CCP are the slow economic growth, climate change and covid-19 pandemic. Which have sent the country into devastating moral decrease of their people as they have shown aggressive brutality to control the people in order to control the virus. Xi has done a well job in control his party by outcasting his rivals and those who speak ill about him and his strategies, while promoting supporters and creating Allie’s like Saudi Arabia, Russia and North Korea. He as well created an anti-corruption campaign that steeped through his party and forcing, even some politicians disappearing and being replaced quickly. Which had targeted four million officials, senior military figures and lower level party cadres.
Their communist ideology and power influences were founded back in 1921 on the same principles of the Russian Revolution in Marxism. Back in the 1940s their was a great civil war that brewed and awakened between the marxists and the nationalists, which was won by the communists and millions of people were killed during this civil war. In closed doors and inside their back rooms, secret negotiations were being in cession creating standing committee functions to be the center of the CCP, which created power and leadership.
But one of their goals has always been creating a strong military might and power called The Peoples Liberation Military. They have made many objectives in protecting the party and their rulings, their interests and how they control the people. Xi is the overseer in both the party and armed police of the people.
The CCP have done a great job in suppressing its citizens from freedom of speech and knowing the truth of their sinister plan, brainwashing their people to believe what they are doing is not only right but totally legal, including that those who speaking against their authority are traitors to their cause. Many protest through the decades have happened and quickly shut down and black bagging protestors as they are silenced. One of the crackdowns that is well known is the Tiananmen protests which was a bloody and brutal crackdown, which begin in Tiananmen Square 30 years ago called “The Correct Policy” which acknowledged some heavily censored events.
Which the crackdown remains one of the most sensitive topics in the mainland and even talked about is censored and silenced. Even the CCP blamed the protestors saying that this was a mutiny for counter-revolution in seeking to over the government. So what the CCP was politically correct and legal in all policies to protect the government ruling and the people of China. Except scratch out the people of China and their freedoms and only remain the government ruling and power.
The Chinese government has not been at fault for crimes against freedom of speech but at was the multiple massacres against their people and other race of people. One of them is the Shanghai Massacre that was back on April 12th 1927. And is very commonly known in China, as it was a violent suppression against yes oddly enough; against the CCP government and people that were for Marxism. These leftist people and their ideas were heavily suppressed and attacked by Kai-Shek and his conservative KMT elements, carrying out a full on purge of aggressive control through intense violence. Through this purge it slotted the left and right factions in the KMT, for the right it’s leader was Chaiang Kai-Shek which was based in Nanjing and for the left wing faction it remained KMT government. And was based in Wuhan. In July 15th 1927, the Wuhan regime had expelled and outcasted the communists, creating a working alliance of both KMT and CCP under the sinister Tulelage of Comintern Agents. In this civil war it again ended the lives upon millions and millions of people.
Another massacre that has been happening today right under our noses since 2017 and has been well hidden from the CCP government but as well from the governments of countries like the U.S., the UK, Australia, and many more countries including the UN. Since before the pandemic 11 million Uyghurs living in mainland China have been greatly oppressed by the CCP and a million of muslims have reportedly detained including Hindus, Buddhists and Christian’s.
The Uyghurs are a predominantly a Turkic-speaking ethnic group primarily in northern China.
Other then being detained and brutal detention centers, they are heavily surveillance with forced labor, involuntary sterilizations and the list goes on with other human rights abuses.
After the pandemic the United States and several other foreign governments have investigated upon what the CCP have been doing and described Chinas actions in XinJaing as genocide, while the UN have constitute the violations as crimes against humanity.
With the estimate of eight million Uyghurs and other Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus and Christians have been detained since 2017. Even though the CCP call these detention centers “Vocational Education and Training Centers” these centers have been reported to going back since 2014 but have expanded in 2017. Reporters have said these camps have drastically tripled in numbers of size between April 2017 and April 2018. Which are the size of a 150 soccer fields.
But the justice system has increasingly used their power and authority to imprison people for years, for most of them charged were crimes that they didn’t do. Having no legal avenues.
Organizations like the UN have reported that journalists back in 2022 were detained after finding patterns of human rights abuse and degrading treatment. Many others said were tortured, sleep deprivation during interrogations. Even horrific stories of sexual abuse and rape.
But in all of modern history no country has killed more and witnessed more unnatural deaths then the CCP has. Some of their most noticeable actions and events to their brutality is “the Great Leap Forward” which was back in the 1950s and was attempting to become in lead against other countries in industry. Causing forty-five million deaths.
But what the CCP has done goes far beyond the Great Leap Forward to the cultural revolution, the body massacre in 1989, here the CCPs military showed cruelty and violence against protestors. As well the act against millions of women in forced abortions for 40 years.
Terrifying cracks downs upon protestors, journalists and surveillance making sure to censor anyone that tries to expose the truth about the CCP. And they did to the whole nation, changing the information through commercials, tv and movie propagandas, changing school curriculum books. The CCP have put more money into technology, surveillance and the military to create a nation of lies where they are lieing to every nation. CCP says they are in support it’s the UN about climate change and are making great changes. They have shut down many industrial plants and factories but have done it aggressively and no regrets about where the workers go. And when they say that record number of factories have closed; is a lie.
Their has been evidence through pictures and videos of CCPs worker spraying green ink on the leaves, grass and down mountains. Trying to paint this lie that they have been making great changes for the greater humanity. Why do you think China is joining up with Russia, the Middle East and North Korea? It’s because if they can’t beat the wests military’s in a war strategy. Then they can win through alliance economy, a one world mighty military. Their able to hide of what they are doing because the people accept it through ignorance and blindness. But know the rest of the world will come to agreement with what the CCP is doing in ignorance.
Conclusion
We have heard the stories and articles like the one you just have read and probably know much more about what’s going on it’s China. Now the conclusion is…should we have alliance in countries like China, Russia and North Korea where they have been public about what they plan to do with the west in the near future. I’m not entirely saying that the people in these countries support these dictators but between 75-80%. The people actually support these evil leaders. Not only that, but support on what they plan to do. These countries have put their money to their technology in surveillance and their military which they have countless of times told their soldiers to prepare for war.
And we are running out of time, the clock is running down as countries like the US are wasting valuable time with being busy on forcing to change its society and culture. That wasted time is giving countries like China a way in to be ready to attack. But I don’t think their seeking for an attack, not yet. Right now their letting countries like the US to continue to go down the drain and keep the fire going that is of hate, greed and fear. The CCP knows what is going on with their rivals like the US, they’re eyes are targeting America because it is still the most powerful country in the world. Like it or not that’s the truth, but as time goes on Americas time is running out.
I mean America is going through its woke dysphoria, gender confusion, division between the right and left, rumors of a coming civil war and the corruption that continues to stack up like a house of cards ready to fall. The CCP have been watching this and are going to do whatever they can to build up their military, forcing their peoples influence to stay 100% support for communism and to make sure their plan is not dissolved.
But China has problems too that is effecting their plans and that is #1 they’re economy has been falling apart. #2 though they have a large population that are for communism, there is a large population that is being silenced and some who have escaped communist China are telling the world the truth about their dictatorship. #3 they continue to hide their lies and what they are planning to do as their goal is world domination. But that hiding of secrecy and lies are leaking out and the world is slowly recognizing this. But I fear this won’t matter because as time drags on, more and more of the UN will give in too the power and lies of the CCP.
Some say that the UN are working behind the veil with the CCP as they believe the only way to save the world from “climate change” is to follow the ways of ideal power and strategies of the CCP. Even the US government have taken some of their surveillance ideas and strategies from the CCP, China has bought much of land from US soil. Building classified secret bases, they are slowly taking the country from the peoples hands.
Governors like Gavin Newson have been working hand to hand with the CCP and saying that Xi is not a dictator but someone that wants to save the world. People like Gavin and Trudeau have have admitted their 100% support with Xi because they know their losing money. Gavin losing money for his state, Trudeau losing money for his country. And they are desperate in need of money for their economy so they are asking for help from someone who will totally save their economy but as long they will continue doing business with Xi and the CCP.
As we are coming into darker times and corruption evolving, our goal as the human race is to progress, at all cost in order to save humanity and that is to stop climate change. To these loons of people they think climate change involves the slavery of racism, gender and the religious wars that are burning this planet up to its core. And most people would say the country that is leading climate change is not China, no,no..it’s America. That’s the all evil Americans are causing the destruction of our beautiful, green planet and are killing the innocents of human beings.
Sounds about right of how it sounds, because these people in reality hate America with a passion why? Because their millions upon millions of true loving Americans that want to play in the governments corrupt narrative and dysfunctional dysphoria agenda. The true Americans don’t want their nation to be getting butt raped by the world order “The UN and the G7 nazis”
Because they don’t want us the human race to be free, they may make you think that what their doing with our rights, the peoples land, their constitution and their planet is only to changed and trifled only because to save humanity from the #1 enemy…no not climate change. The mean ‘old white supremacy.
Whenever the US government try to investigate the CCP and show evidence that they’re government have been forcefully detaining different races, creeds, religious people as raping and beating on women. Killing children horrifically. And you know how the CCP respond “Well what about your government, your country is racist and sexist, they have taken the land from native Americans and blacks.” When in reality the CCP is known for being absurdly racists to different race of people.
But we need to realize we’re dealing with an enemy that knows how to destroy countries and knows how to play the game of war. Cause behind the red dragon there is only lies, secrecy and chaos. There goal is to make China the most untouchable super power. And for communism to reign forever.
Resources:
—https://www.cfr.org/backgrounder/chinese-communist-party
—https://www.hudson.org/human-rights/no-government-has-killed-more-people-through-incompetence-communist-china
— https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2019/6/2/china-defends-bloody-crackdown-of-tiananmen-protests
— https://www.cfr.org/backgrounder/china-xinjiang-uyghurs-muslims-repression-genocide-human-rights
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Ok, once again because I feel like it, we’ve got to re-examine our thoughts on what constitutes something as “mature” or “realistic.” I’m seeing it a lot with Starfield, honestly— it’s not my main point here, but we have here this game that wants to look out on the future with hope and joy, seeing the wonders of the unexplored, and taking dives into the unknown just because we want to see and behold all that we can— and it’s being ripped apart narratively by people being upset that you can’t play it like GTA and get a good time out of it.
It is in the process of this I turn once again to one of my favorite movies (The Lego Movie 2: The Second Part), as an example. In it, Emmet (and therefore Finn [And therefore the audience]) are given a choice; To embrace the darkness and edgy ness of the world we live in, to become cynical, selfish, and bitter, looking only out for ourselves. Or, to embrace community, to live others even when they’re different or confuse us, to be kind and innocent— not naive, *innocent*, there’s a difference.
And both that movie, and Starfield as well, postulates that it’s a better, fuller life to live with a sense of wonder and community rather than to be selfish and cruel— the Starborn, those who are constantly searching for the next universe, the next power, for them and whoever they choose, end up consumed by their own quest— Something that can even happen to the player themselves, if they’re not careful!
Look, I’m a Christian, and that means I see that this view isn’t entirely complete. I know that one must connect with God, accept His Lordship and authority first, and the rest shall come to you as you work for it every day. But even if you believe differently, I truly believe that we can agree on this: The world is a dark, scary, and messed up place, full of people who are only out for themselves and don’t care about anything or anyone else. That’s a fact. But you can choose to be better, to remain steadfastly kind even within it. To help and love and build and create and be more than what the rest of the world wants to drag you down into!
A lot of people seemed to not like the end of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, where Sam gives a speech to the government and the press that what the Flag Smashers did was wrong, but that their actions were based on injustices that the leaders of the world allow to exist. It was disliked how Sam’s charge to these people was not some grand plan to fix it all, or some massive overthrow of the current system, but a simple plea: Do better. Be better. Be kinder and more thoughtful, hold up others above yourselves.
Look… I know what tumblr is, what the culture is. The majority of those on here see the world for how it is. They want to make change. YOU want to make change. But so many people just want to tear down the old, and believe that things will work out after. But that just reminds me of the two-part Doctor Who episode where Peter Capaldi’s Doctor is speaking with the Zygon revolutionary— their people have been pushed down and ostracized, so she wants to make things right through force. But the Doctor asks her what happens after, and she doesn’t know. She never thought that far ahead. If your only goal is to destroy, then you slowly forget how to create, and when your goal is done and your empire conquered all you’re left with is smoldering wreckage and hurt people and nothing is *actually better*.
I’m not saying to lose that fire. Far from it! A righteous anger is a powerful thing, and people, communities, and nations have changed with less! And maybe my metaphors and plot points have gotten out of hand.
All I’m trying to say is… change, true change, will come when one person is kind to another, even if they disagree. And that second person extends that kindness, and so on and so forth, until we have cities and counties and countries filled with so many people doing good for others that, in the end, we outnumber even those who are selfish and greedy, so that they can’t help but go along with us, if only for their own ends.
So go. See the good and beauty in even the worst of the worst. Choose brightness and kindness. Have boundaries, and respect the boundaries of others. Don’t fall for the lie that cynicism is intellectual, because in the end it’s the most childish view of all.
#long post#kinda rambling#Christian worldview#hope vs cynicism#kindness vs cruelty#starfield#the Lego movie two: the second part#I could include that one CS Lewis quote but I won’t#and by no means is my advice wholly to cover every single possible interaction#if you comment in bad faith that’s on you#and it’s also ironic considering that I’m saying to be kind and listen#so a bad faith take is basically making my point for me fyi
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Watch "Hark! The Herald Angels Sing - Amy Grant (lyric video) HD" on YouTube
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Think about this and read it slowly and entirety.! Ok
I want to do a new video as the producer director filmography of this song and introduce the casualties of War in a quick brutal horrid and gorry screen medley of fights and battles and show how in war both sides cry and both sides even sheds tears for each other the enemy cries and we cry too and for each other and both lose in the end there is no true winners or victories because lives are lost dead and missed and we are all traumatized but once we realize love conquers all more than hate which judges each other's flaws or differences as evil we must cease fire and agree to love one another as allies for peace on earth and hark the herald angels shall sing and our trumpets and bugles chant joy everlasting for once we we were lost now we are found in each other arms and tender loving care a fellowship and treaty alliance worth having so valuable it breeds perfection between us all...we are the world and the world needs love not hate of any kind?! Think about this and read it slowly and entirety.! Ok envision the new video and send some stillscene pictures and short videos you think would be perfect for my new project and it could be our project a group worldwide effort th we n translate into every language and honor and praise the world ....each other...on world peace day and sing it together to each other and hold hands across the world as a worldwide event just like new years eve is celebrated and have a countdown....what do you feel and think about my idea for #allofme #byjohnlegend and #newvideotheoryartistrychallenge #byrobertamarieadams #worldpeace #peaceonearthchallenge #harkheraldangelssing
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