#lord of the eastern lands
Text
Remember when that anime would put Kirinmaru shirtless, looking like he was covered in oil. There's still no non-sexual explanation for that.
12 notes
·
View notes
Photo
SHOP: GETTOTHECORNER.COM
#rasheed wallace#detroit#detroit pistons#eastern market#ball don't lie#hokage#lord hokage#lord seventh#naruto#uzumaki#streetwear#menswear#tom ford#land of fire#lebron james#thekidfromakron#interstate heavy equipment - akron#ohio#sports illustrated#nba#espnw#nfl#doctor doom#doom#victor von doom#storm#xmen#x-men#x-men 97#x-men: the animated series
95 notes
·
View notes
Text
Joshua 22: God Sends The Eastern Tribes Of Israel Back
1 Then Joshua summoned the Reubenites, the Gadites and the half-tribe of Manasseh
2 and said to them, “You have done all that Moses the servant of the Lord commanded, and you have obeyed me in everything I commanded.
3 For a long time now—to this very day—you have not deserted your fellow Israelites but have carried out the mission the Lord your God gave you.
4 Now that the Lord your God has given them rest as he promised, return to your homes in the land that Moses the servant of the Lord gave you on the other side of the Jordan.
5 But be very careful to keep the commandment and the law that Moses the servant of the Lord gave you: to love the Lord your God, to walk in obedience to him, to keep his commands, to hold fast to him and to serve him with all your heart and with all your soul.”
6 Then Joshua blessed them and sent them away, and they went to their homes.
7 (To the half-tribe of Manasseh Moses had given land in Bashan, and to the other half of the tribe Joshua gave land on the west side of the Jordan along with their fellow Israelites.) When Joshua sent them home, he blessed them,
8 saying, “Return to your homes with your great wealth—with large herds of livestock, with silver, gold, bronze and iron, and a great quantity of clothing—and divide the plunder from your enemies with your fellow Israelites.”
9 So the Reubenites, the Gadites and the half-tribe of Manasseh left the Israelites at Shiloh in Canaan to return to Gilead, their own land, which they had acquired in accordance with the command of the Lord through Moses.
10 When they came to Geliloth near the Jordan in the land of Canaan, the Reubenites, the Gadites and the half-tribe of Manasseh built an imposing altar there by the Jordan.
11 And when the Israelites heard that they had built the altar on the border of Canaan at Geliloth near the Jordan on the Israelite side,
12 the whole assembly of Israel gathered at Shiloh to go to war against them.
13 So the Israelites sent Phinehas son of Eleazar, the priest, to the land of Gilead—to Reuben, Gad and the half-tribe of Manasseh.
14 With him they sent ten of the chief men, one from each of the tribes of Israel, each the head of a family division among the Israelite clans.
15 When they went to Gilead—to Reuben, Gad and the half-tribe of Manasseh—they said to them:
16 “The whole assembly of the Lord says: ‘How could you break faith with the God of Israel like this? How could you turn away from the Lord and build yourselves an altar in rebellion against him now?
17 Was not the sin of Peor enough for us? Up to this very day we have not cleansed ourselves from that sin, even though a plague fell on the community of the Lord!
18 And are you now turning away from the Lord?
“‘If you rebel against the Lord today, tomorrow he will be angry with the whole community of Israel.
19 If the land you possess is defiled, come over to the Lord’s land, where the Lord’s tabernacle stands, and share the land with us. But do not rebel against the Lord or against us by building an altar for yourselves, other than the altar of the Lord our God.
20 When Achan son of Zerah was unfaithful in regard to the devoted things, did not wrath come on the whole community of Israel? He was not the only one who died for his sin.’”
21 Then Reuben, Gad and the half-tribe of Manasseh replied to the heads of the clans of Israel:
22 “The Mighty One, God, the Lord! The Mighty One, God, the Lord! He knows! And let Israel know! If this has been in rebellion or disobedience to the Lord, do not spare us this day.
23 If we have built our own altar to turn away from the Lord and to offer burnt offerings and grain offerings, or to sacrifice fellowship offerings on it, may the Lord himself call us to account.
24 “No! We did it for fear that some day your descendants might say to ours, ‘What do you have to do with the Lord, the God of Israel?
25 The Lord has made the Jordan a boundary between us and you—you Reubenites and Gadites! You have no share in the Lord.’ So your descendants might cause ours to stop fearing the Lord.
26 “That is why we said, ‘Let us get ready and build an altar—but not for burnt offerings or sacrifices.’
27 On the contrary, it is to be a witness between us and you and the generations that follow, that we will worship the Lord at his sanctuary with our burnt offerings, sacrifices and fellowship offerings. Then in the future your descendants will not be able to say to ours, ‘You have no share in the Lord.’
28 “And we said, ‘If they ever say this to us, or to our descendants, we will answer: Look at the replica of the Lord’s altar, which our ancestors built, not for burnt offerings and sacrifices, but as a witness between us and you.’
29 “Far be it from us to rebel against the Lord and turn away from him today by building an altar for burnt offerings, grain offerings and sacrifices, other than the altar of the Lord our God that stands before his tabernacle.”
30 When Phinehas the priest and the leaders of the community—the heads of the clans of the Israelites—heard what Reuben, Gad and Manasseh had to say, they were pleased.
31 And Phinehas son of Eleazar, the priest, said to Reuben, Gad and Manasseh, “Today we know that the Lord is with us, because you have not been unfaithful to the Lord in this matter. Now you have rescued the Israelites from the Lord’s hand.”
32 Then Phinehas son of Eleazar, the priest, and the leaders returned to Canaan from their meeting with the Reubenites and Gadites in Gilead and reported to the Israelites.
33 They were glad to hear the report and praised God. And they talked no more about going to war against them to devastate the country where the Reubenites and the Gadites lived.
34 And the Reubenites and the Gadites gave the altar this name: A Witness Between Us—that the Lord is God.
#Lord God Jehovah#Holy Bible#Joshua ch.22#Joshua#Eleazar#Israelites#Promise Land#Eastern Tribes#Send Home#Other Side#Jordan River#Moses#Commands#Obedience#Defiance#Altar#Rebel#Preparation#Caution#Descendants#Faithful#Explanation#Witness#Clans#Relieved#Only Him
0 notes
Text
The following is not my idea; it was the original brainchild of a friend of mine named Omicron, with help from various others including EarthScorpion, TenfoldShields, @havocfett and ShintheNinja:
So, you know what I want to do one day? Run (or play in) a D&D campaign in which the Big Bad Super Dragon that is fuckoff ancient and unfathomably powerful and whose actions have shaped history and bent the course of nations and had repercussions on the whole culture and society in the region where it's set; the Bonus Special Boss for some endgame optional quest after you defeat the direct BBEG and win the campaign...
... is a white dragon.
To explain this for people not deep into 5e monster lore; D&D dragons are sapient beings, and known for their instincts and tendencies, and whenever you meet an big evil dragon that's really old it's usually this ancient creature of terrible intellect Smaug-ing it up all over the place.
Except white dragons are fucking stupid. Like, they're still capable of speech and thought! They're just… feral, hungry morons. And you almost never see them portrayed as ancient wyrms for that reason; they lack majesty. Critical Role did it, yes, but even then, Vorugal is explicitly the most bestial member of the Chroma Conclave, and the others are the more intelligent planners and long-term threats. An ancient white as a nation-defining endboss, though; not a thug for a smarter master but as the strongest and biggest threat around is just not the sort of thing you tend to see.
Adventurers: "Oh wise Therunax the Munificent, gold dragon of Law and Good, what can you tell us adventurers of the evil dragons which rule this land?"
Therunax the Munificent, 500-year old Gold Dragon: "Good adventurers, know this: this land is torn apart by the evil of Tiamat's spawn. The eastern marches are the dwelling of Furinar the Plague-Bringer, black dragoness whose hoard is a thousand sicknesses contained in the body of her tributes. The southern volcanic mountains are the roosting of Angrar the Wrathful, the fiery red dragon, who brings magmatic fury on all who do not worship him. And the northern peaks are home to Face-Biter Mike, the oldest and most powerful of all, of whom I dread to speak."
Adventurers: "F-Face-Biter Mike???"
Therunax: "Oh yes, verily indeed; two thousand years has Mike lived, and his eyes have seen the rise and fall of five empires, and a hundred and score champions have sought to slay him; and each and every one he bit their fucking face off."
Like... I want to see a campaign where Face-Biter Mike is genuinely the most powerful dragon in the region, if not the entire world. Where sometimes he descends on a city to grab himself some meatsicles and causes a localised ice age by the beat of his vast wings and the frigid wastes of his mighty breath and by the chill his mere presence brings to everything for miles around him, and everyone just has to deal with that for the next decade. An entire era of civilization comes to an end, an empire falls, tens of thousands starve in the winter, all because Mike wanted a snack. Where his hoard is an unfathomably vast mass of jewels and artefacts and precious stones frozen in an unmelting glacier, except he is a nouveau riche idiot with fuckall appraising skill, so half of his hoard is coloured glass or worthless knicknacks, and he doesn't give a shit.
"Your Draconic Majesty, this crown is… It's pyrite."
"Yeah, well, it's brighter than this dusty old thing made out of real gold, it's my new best treasure. Throw the other one away."
"…throw the Burnished Tiara of Bahamut, forged in the First Age of Man, your majesty???"
"See? I can't even remember its fucking name."
"But my lord-"
"DO YOU WANT TO BE A MEATSICLE"
"…I will fetch a trash bag, your majesty."
But at the same time, he's not stupid, he's just simple, and in some ways that makes him more dangerous than the usual kinds of scheming Big Bad you see in these things, while simultaneously justifying why Orcus remains on his throne (because he's lazy). Face-Biter Mike doesn't make convoluted plans or run labyrinthine schemes; he just has a talent for violence and a pragmatic, straightforward approach to turning any kind of problem he struggles with into a problem that can be resolved with violence. Face-Biter Mike has one talent and it's horrifying physical power, so his approach to any complicated problem is "how do I turn this into a situation where I can fly down and bite this dude's face off?" with absolutely no regard for the collateral damage or consequences of doing so, because those are also things he can turn into face-bitable problems.
"My lord, the dread necromancer Nikodemion is using his undead dragons to attempt a conquest of the eastern kingdom; his agents are everywhere, his plans are centuries in the making, what can we do against such a mastermind?"
"I'm gonna fly over the capital and eat the eastern king."
"M-my lord???"
"The kingdom will collapse without leadership, Nikodemion will win his war, he'll take the capital and crown himself king."
"And that helps us… how?"
"Once he does I'll fly over to the capital and eat him."
"…"
"This is why you advisors all suck. You're all about convoluted plans when the only thing I need to win is know where my enemy is so I can fly down there and eat him. Stop overthinking things."
And, like, yeah, it's a simplistic plan, but when you're several hundred tons of nigh invincible magical death, you don't need brilliant strategy; the smartest way to win a war is, in this case, the simplest. He's not even all that clever at figuring out the consequences of face-biting, he's just memorised the common consequences of doing so.
(If you want to go all in on Mike being the major mover and shaker in the region; Nikodemion only even has a pet zombie dragon because Mike killed the last dragon to show up and contest his turf but wasn't going to eat a whole dragon by himself. Nikodemion got to stick around and amass that much power because Mike ate the Hero of the Realm while he was adventuring because he figured the Hero would come and try to slay him at some point. Nikodemion got started because Mike ate half the leadership of the Academy of High Magic who typically keep evil wizards and necromancers in check. And then eventually this product of Mike's casual, careless actions becomes a big enough problem to bother Mike personally, at which point Mike eats him too.)
He doesn't even really fail upwards, either! He is regularly reduced to nothing but the glacier he stores his hoard in, but he's Face-Biter Mike so nobody wants to commit to actually ending him forever lest they get their faces bitten the fuck off. And his hoard's in a huge-ass magical glacier so nobody can get to it without running into the Invading Russia problem; it's hard to wage war when everything is frozen over and you're both starving and freezing to death. Once he's been beaten back to his central lair and has lost all his holdings… I mean, he's still a problem, but he's a far away problem. So he loses his assets and spends a decade in a cave brooding it up while no one dares risk trying to actually kill him, and then a generation or two later he flies down to a kobold colony and gets himself some minions, or a dragon-worshipping mage comes to offer his service against a pittance from his hoard, or a particularly stupid cult starts thinking they can get in good with him and leech off his power, and then he's (hah) snowballing again.
He's also got a very… well, the kind of weird Charisma that Grineer bosses do. Like Sargas Ruk, who's a malformed idiot, but oddly charismatic. As he's a dragon, that makes him a natural sorcerer and thus Charisma is all he needs. He's pretty relaxed when he isn't in a face-biting mood, and he's kind of infectiously optimistic, because his life has taught him that he will succeed as long as he perseveres. So he just believes it.
And sometimes that's really refreshing to work for, as an evil minion of darkness! It's like, you're coming to your Evil Dragon Lord with terrible news; you've worked for evil overlords before, you know how it goes. You fall to your knees weeping and tell him that you've failed to seize the incredibly powerful magical artifact, you think your life is forfeit. And he's just like "Eh, it's okay, these things are all over the place. Better luck next time. You remember the guy who took it, right?" and you go "Y-yes, oh great lord!" and he's like "Sweet tell me his name later and I'll grab it" and then eats a frozen adventurer he kept around as a snack.
His followers tend to quickly realise that if they fail him, bringing some temple's silver or a sack of brightly coloured beads or a couple of dead cows means he's super forgiving because at least he's got something out of the day. "Oh boy, cows? It's been forever since I had those, ever since the Orc Steppe Nomads took over it's all about goats and onions. Today is a good day." He's a master of delegation by dragon standards, in that he just tells you "Just go get it done, I don't care how" rather than micromanaging you and constantly appearing as an image in smoke or taking over your campfire.
The key part of Face-Biter Mike as a threat to players (because he exists in the context of a D&D campaign) works well in that you can rely on several known quantities:
He will not pull sneaky shit that you don't see coming
He will not make convoluted plans that you must work to unravel
He will consistently attempt to come down and wreck you personally if he finds the opportunity and you are a threat to him
You cannot fight him head-on (at least not until the last leg of the campaign, and ideally as an optional boss rather than mandatory)
So as long as you are good at staying under the radar, thwarting his minions (whom he gives broad orders to with almost zero oversight) and not putting yourself in face-biting range, you can deal with him. If you succeed, it won't be the first time Mike has lost his assets and had to go brood in his glacier for a decade or two before rebuilding. It happens; he can deal with it. And that's a win for you within the context of a single campaign, so take the win.
And if you're not going to use him as an enemy, he works pretty well as a quest-giver, too! The costs for failure are obvious and straightforward, and "do whatever, just get me mine" means that players have a lot of freedom in accomplishing their goals. As far as evil overlords go he is actually one of the least dangerous to work for; his pride is relatively subdued by draconic standards, his goals are simple and typically achievable, and he is easily pleased.
(There's also a good chance he is the forefather of any draconic sorcerer in your party, because Face Biter Mike is a deadbeat dad.)
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Gift for birthday
Walking the thorny road of your uneasy life, you managed to comprehend one simple yet great mystery of that the appearance of a person frequently can be deceiving and far from always reflect their authentic essence.
You came to this conclusion after on your path you had met many people who were flawlessly beautiful outside but disgustingly ugly on the inside, and also those few ones who behind their brutal exterior, in fact, hid an incredibly gentle soul.
And to your grand happiness your beloved Karl Heisenberg proved to be exactly that same kind of man.
But, unfortunetaly, here in this located in a mountainous region of Eastern Europe remote little village because of his rather formidable looks, rank of being one of the Four Lords of the village lands and unnatural for human beings powers of controlling different metal objects only with his mind Karl was perceived by the local residents as an arrogant and incapable of love or compassion extremely dangerous individual, but only to you Heisenberg opened up his genuinely caring, fun-loving and sensetive nature and all the truth about that cruel and egoistic Mother Miranda forced him to become her obedient servant against his own will, and that already quite for a long time he had been dreaming to be free of the oppression of her barbarous tyranny.
Actually, one needs to say that it was not only one dream which the Lord was seriously intended to turn into reality one day.
Yesterday early in the morning when both of you were sitting at the kitchen table and nicely chatting over a cup of freshly brewed fragnant coffee he honestly confessed to you that at least for once in his entire life he would really like to properly celebrate his own birthday with real presents and a real big birthday cake.
To hear this amazing news from the Lord you were indescribably glad as before in your conversations he had never told you even when his birthday was, and what joy that was for you to find out that it was supposed to be already on the next day!
Determined to make your beloved feel a little bit more happier, you conceived to secretly organize a small pleasant surprise for him by preparing a homemade festive cake and a lovely useful gift, despite the fact that Karl was not going to celebrate his birthday so soon for the simple reason that, as he himself said, he didn't have absolutely any time for entertainments as at the current moment the total elimination of Miranda was the number one goal for him, that is why his tomorrow's birthday Heisenberg planned to spend just like one of his most regular days, hoping at least not to cross paths anywhere with his adopted family, the members of which he had always sincerely dispised.
But all these plans and hopes of the Lord crumbled into dust when at the crack of dawn he was unceremoniously awakened by the unexpected telephone call of Mother Miranda herself. As it turned out, "her highness crazy witch" for some unknown reason decided to arrange an unscheduled family gathering and demanded for her "son" to partake in it along with his siblings and arrive for this to the cave church asap, thereby not leaving him even the slightest chance to normally wash his face, let alone have some breakfast.
Hastily dressed, our birthday man, fiercely cursing Miranda for so brazenly spoiling all his day today, went outside where nature unfriendly greeted him with a massive snowfall accompanied by the powerful gusts of a freezing wind.
"Fucking matches..." He grumbled under his breath, trying to light a cuban cigar with no success. "Always extinguish even from the slightest breeze..."
You volunteered to walk the Lord right to the main factory gates, paying zero attention to all of his insistent protests not to do that in such a cold stormy weather. On his covered with deep scars stubbled cheek you placed a light goodbye kiss, and once the burly figure of your beloved disappeared on the opposite side of the stone bridge you immediately hurried back to the factory in order to get everything what was needed ready for his return...
As Heisenberg suspected this family meeting promised to be unbelievably prolonged, and it seemed to him that it lasted for a whole eternity. For many long hours straight Karl, chewing an unlit cigar, had been sitting on a wide wooden bench inside the cave church and, from time to time heavily sighing and rolling his eyes in irritated manner, listening to the insane dictatorial nonsense of the family head, the poisonous insults of Lady Dimitrescu that she was spitting right in his face, the nasty high-pitched squeal of Donna's creepy porcelain doll and the constant childish whining of Moreau. Not having a single crumb of bread within his stomach since early morning and chilled to the bone, Heisenberg eagerly awaited this freak show to end as soon as possible so that he could come back to the saving walls of his old factory and just forget about this frankly lousy day within your warm comforting embrace.
But to reach his safe refuge the Lord, unfortunately, managed only very late in the evening after he had accomplished to do everything he was strictly ordered to, namely, calmed down the went crazy Lycans in the Stronghold and got rid of the mess in the village workshop. Barely dragging his feet from extreme tiredness, the man, upon entering the bedroom and throwing off his outerwear, with noise flopped down on the shabby leather couch and, closing his eyes, let out a sigh of relief. Finally, he was home.
"Karl? You back?" Your quiet voice delicately interrupted your beloved's welcome respite, making him to open his eyes again, and having noticed your presence in the doorway of the bedroom, he couldn't help but slightly smile.
"Yes, princess. I'm back."
"It's pretty late. You must be very tired and hungry. Let's go to the kitchen! I've made a dinner for us."
"Sounds perfect." And with these words Heisenberg slowly stood up and trudged after you in the direction of the kitchen.
"Hey, what's this?" Karl whistled in surprise, motioning his head towards the kitchen table in the center of which adorned a deliciously smelling fresh apple cake surrounded by many plates with his especially favorite dishes.
"Um, Karl..." From overwhelming excitement all that tremendous speech which you had been composing since the previous day specially for this occasion in a blink evaporated from your memory. "I just...I just wanted to say...um... Here! Happy birthday, darling! Please accept this humble gift from me to you!"
The gaze of the Lord fell on a laying within your palms silver lighter with the engraved on it image of a beautiful steed, which you had bought from the Duke for a rather hefty sum.
"I noticed that you always light cigars with matches, but it seemed to me that for you they are not very comfortable in using. And then i thought maybe a lighter would be more helpful in this case, so..."
From your trembling hands the man took the lighter extremely carefully as if it was made not of metal but of fragile glass.
"All right, sweetheart...You...huh...You cooked all this food, baked this cake, spent your money on this obviously damn expensive thing, and what do you want to tell me? Do you want to tell me that you did all of this...for me?"
"Well...Well yes! Yes, that's right!"
Judjing by his puzzled facial expression, it was safe to say your beloved was truly shocked by everything what's happening right now, and it was no wonder because absolutely nobody in his entire life had ever done even something similar for him.
"So...Why are we still standing? The food is getting cold! Come on! Let's take a sit at the table!"
The blizzard, which had been furiously raging outside throughout the day, little by little, had begun to abate, and out of the snow gloomy clouds appeared the large silvery moon whose tranquil light unobtrusively penetrated through a small window into the kitchen where Heisenberg and you were enjoying the festive meal in each other's company. At your request, Karl told you how the family gathering went, but instead of narrating you about this extremely unpleasant event in a negative way, he started cracking shameless yet hilarious jokes about his hateful siblings, and your contagious laughter, caused by these jokes, after all those disgusting nasties that he had to hear today out acted like a healing balm to his soul.
Suddenly, Gymnopedie No.1 by Erik Satie smoothly played on the radio, and to your mind came a wonderful idea.
"May i have this dance, my Lord?" Playfully smiling, you politely held out the man your hand.
"Sure!" Not even thinking, Heisenberg immediately accepted your invitation to dance. "But i consider it my duty to warn you that i can't dance at all."
"Me too! So i am deeply apologizing in advance for accidentally stepping on your feet a huge number of times!"
In the dimly illuminated by a couple of oil lanterns kitchen both of you were slightly swaying in a slow dance to the soothing sounds of the marvelous melody in each other's arms. Placing his rough hand on your waist, Karl was gradually pulling you closer and closer to his wide sturdy chest, and when you rested your head on his strong shoulder he a bit nuzzled your soft silky hair, inhaling with pleasure its subtle delightful scent.
Fully immersed in the relaxing atmosphere of calmness, at least for tonight the Lord entirely forgot about all of his pressing daily problems the thoughts of which permanently created disorderly chaos in his head, and at this divine moment of complete peacefulness it seemed to him as if in the whole entire world existed only you and only him, silently dancing in this cozy semi-darkness.
After a few short minutes, silence that followed the melted in the air music softly stopped the slow romantic dance of yours, and then you looked up at your beloved just in order to catch him looking back at you with a gaze filled with nothing other than tenderness and adoration.
"I don't know how to thank you for everything you've done for me tonight." Carefully Heisenberg tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.
"Thank me? But...But you shouldn't thank me. I...I haven't really done anything special..." This affectionate gesture in combination with the low tone of his raspy voice made you unavoidably redden like a ripe juicy strawberry. "You deserve this, Karl. You do truly deserve this. You deserve all of this and even more. And if i only could give you this more, believe me, i would gladly do that for you, not awaiting from you anything in exchange because... because i love you too much...that's all..."
"My Buttercup...My kind little Buttercup..." And Karl, upon cupping your face with his hands as gently as he could, placed a kiss on your lips, in sweetness to which, in your opinion, even candied honey could not be compared. You didn't break this adorable kiss to ask the Lord what happened when you noticed a crystal-clear tear rolling down his cheek because for you everything was understandable enough without any words: probably for the first time in his entire life your beloved now was quietly crying with genuine happiness, and from the realization that you managed to fulfill one of the cherished dreams of his you yourself became even more happier than you had already been...
This peaceful night before going to bed Heisenberg decided to go outside in order to have a smoke. With the help of his new lighter Karl easily lighten up a cuban cigar on the very first attempt and contentedly took several deep puffs.
Leisurely savoring the bitter taste of the tobacco smoke, simultaneously the Lord was gazing at the dark nocturnal sky strewn with millions of bright sparkling stars just when one of them at lightning speed was leaving its abode once and for all, and, without hesitation, he quickly made a birthday wish.
It is not difficult to guess what kind of wish your beloved made because more than anything else he truly wished to be with you forever no matter what as for him you doubtelessly were the most priceless gift which he was so lucky to receive from the Universe herself, and to her for such a boundless generousity the man was infinitely grateful.
#resident evil 8#resident evil 8 village#resident evil village#re8#re8 village#re village#Lord Heisenberg#Karl Heisenberg#Heisenberg#House Heisenberg#Lord Heisenberg imagine#Karl Heisenberg imagine#Heisenberg imagine#Lord Heisenberg x reader#Karl Heisenberg x reader#Heisenberg x reader#Lord Heisenberg x you#Karl Heisenberg x you#Heisenberg x you
75 notes
·
View notes
Text
Summer Knight Part 1
When Crown Prince Morpheus is summoned to his father's court for the summer, he expects it to be just as tedious and aggravating as any other season spent in the Dreaming's capitol. What he doesn't expect is an attempted kidnapping, a successful kidnapping, uncovering designs on the Dreaming's throne, and a handsome esquire he really isn't supposed to fall in love with.
How can he not, when Hob Gadling sees him for who he is, and not just his station? How can he not, when Hob is willing to burn down the world for him?
Or: Prince!Morpheus/Commoner!Hob Gadling medieval/fantasy AU
~~Masterlist~~
After three months (probably more tbh) here it is! My contribution to the Centennial Husbands Big Bang.
This would not have been possible without the support of the entire Sadman server, for which I am endlessly (haha) thankful. @delta-pavonis and @signiorbenedickofpadua, I wouldn’t have been able to finish this without your eyes and encouragement. Thank you for letting me scream about these boys at/with you, for ideas when I got stuck, for helping me tease out the snags. Y’all are fantastic. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
BUT WAIT THERE’S MORE
This beautiful incredible art by @wolf-and-raven-dreaming / @ambarden I’m just blown away. Thank you so much for bringing such a beautiful moment to life, especially one that I didn’t get to give as much detail in this fic. I’m obsessed with it, prob gonna make it my phone background 💖
If this story inspires you to create something of your own, please share with me so I can keysmash and gush over what you make!
Divider by @cafekitsune
Prologue
Once, in a time out of thought and memory, there was a realm called the Dreaming- so named because a place so magical and splendid could only possibly exist in one’s most vivid imaginings. The weather was always as it should or needed to be, the land lush and bountiful, even in the harshest climates. The people of the land were, on the whole, prosperous and contented. The Dreaming was not without its troubles and hardships and tragedies- no land is, no matter how prosperous- and for some, life was rather hard, but never unbearable.
Like any kingdom in a faerie story, the Dreaming was ruled by a king, a queen, and their children. This story, however, only concerns one, the third son, Prince Morpheus Aeterna. Morpheus and his six siblings each ruled a shire within the Dreaming, with the capital city of Istoria on the eastern coast, the lands of the Dreaming appearing to fan out from the city like rays of the rising sun.
Morpheus was lord of one of the Dreaming’s most important and vital border shires- after all, that’s what you did with a third child, a second son, with a great aptitude for ruling. One who also happened to be heir to the throne, the next in line to be called Dream King. His shire was called Fiddler’s Green- the land was varied, a little corner of everything: snow capped mountains, lush fields of vibrant grass and wildflowers, bountiful forests, a beach of black sand bordering a navy inland sea.
Morpheus’ kingdom shared a border with the realm of Fawney Rigg, a land of dense thickets and haunting mists and old, angry trees. It was ruled by King Roderick Burgess, a ruthless and bitter old man who should have had many happy years yet before him. But, his greed and jealousy were near endless; he had already conquered several other realms by war, subterfuge, or a combination of both. In the twilight of his life, he set his sights on the Dreaming, and it is here our story begins.
“My lord?”
Morpheus was jolted from his wandering thoughts by Lucienne, his most trusted advisor.
“My lord, a message has arrived from your father the king.”
A frown etched itself onto the Prince’s face as he pushed his breakfast to the side- what an aggravating way to start his morning. He took the tightly rolled scroll of thick, handmade paper and unrolled it with long, bony fingers. His frown grew more pronounced the further he read.
“My lord?” Lucienne was almost hesitant, her fingers tight around the ledger she carried. “What news from his majesty?” Morpheus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, a gesture he had picked up from his father despite his best intentions.
“It is a summons,” he ground out. “He wishes me to attend him at court for the summer.”
Lucienne frowned with a pang of sympathy. To say that Morpheus and his father King Chronos Aeterna did not get along was well beyond an understatement. Morpheus was the opposite of everything his father had wanted him to be, showing more interest and aptitude in creative and scholarly pursuits than learning the craft of war, as was expected of a crown prince responsible for strategically valuable border territories.
Spending any amount of time at his father’s court was tedious at best. An entire season was sure to be nigh unbearable.
He gave a resigned sigh. “Begin making travel arrangements. I will draft a response to my father.” He gave the order with all the flat dread of someone about to face the noose. It was going to be a long summer.
And so it came to pass that Morpheus began the four day journey, following the border of his land and Fawney Rigg until they reached the Gates of Horn and Ivory, massive gates and walls carved of white stone that spanned the entire border of Istoria. If one walked along the wall from end to end, they would see the entire history of the Dreaming laid out before them, carved into the stone. Morpheus could feel his hackles rise as the gates creaked and groaned open, allowing him and his party into the bustling city. He thought he could feel the mythical creatures carved into the gates frowning at him. Folks going about their business immediately stepped out of the road and bowed, looking up through their lashes, hoping to catch sight of the Prince and not just a flutter of emerald livery in the wind.
The procession slowly made its way to the palace, where the King, Queen, and their retainers were waiting at the top of the great stone stairs. Marble walls and gates that were miniature recreations of those guarding the city, depicting the history of the Aeterna line, were flung wide open, knights standing at attention. Banners bearing the golden Aeterna crest on deep blue fabric flapped in the breeze.
Morpheus’ first thought was that his mother seemed pale. Queen Nocturna had always been fair- Morpheus owed his complexion to her, along with his bright blue eyes- but under the light of the late afternoon sun she looked frail and sickly in her midnight gown, as if the slightest breeze would scatter her into dust. Her hair had long since faded from inky black to the shining silver of the moon, but it lacked the luster Morpheus remembered. Had it really been that long since he had seen his parents? Had something happened?
Beside her, King Chronos stood as regal and stony as ever. There were a few new lines on his face, and a few more gray hairs in his dark beard, but the frown he had reserved for his third child since Morpheus reached his majority was dour and disapproving as ever.
The Prince was announced as he dismounted and approached the foot of the staircase, a herald bellowing his numerous titles for the assembled. When that list was exhausted, he ascended the stairs until he was two steps below where the King and Queen stood, leaving him shorter than his parents– normally he was of a height with his father, and half a head taller than his mother.
Chronos shook his son’s hand with a stiffness only Morpheus could see. “Be welcome, my son.” The King ground his teeth. “It is good to see you.”
Morpheus quickly bowed his head with a curt, “Father.”
Once Chronos released his hand, the Queen enfolded Morpheus in her willowy arms. She could feel some of the tension leave his body in the relative safety of her embrace. Her smile was beaming when she pulled away to look at him.
“You look well, Morpheus. I’ve missed you, my dear.”
Morpheus kissed her cheek in greeting with a tenderly murmured, “Mother.” The Queen had always been a refuge for her son when his father insisted on Morpheus being someone he was not- she encouraged him to pursue his passions, constantly reminding him that there was more than one way to be a strong King. Always out of earshot of Chronos- even to his wife and son, he was their King first, a father and husband second, and his word was law.
“Come,” Chronos said to Morpheus, loud enough for the crowd to hear. “You must be weary from your journey. Be welcome and make yourselves comfortable.” He clapped Morpheus on the back and guided him into the palace, followed by his retinue. Once the royals were out of sight, the crowd dispersed, the spectacle now ended. Only one man lingered near the bottom corner of the ancient palace stairs, leaning on a stout quarterstaff.
It is here necessary to briefly introduce Robert Gadling. Orphaned at seven, he was one of a good number of parentless children, now adults, who did odd jobs for the businesses of the city, as well as the government- everything from construction to loading and unloading ships’ cargo, from running messages to protection from overzealous loan collectors if need be. On occasion, a few would be hired by the day to work in the palace, mostly on structural repairs and maintenance.
Robert, or Hob as the townsfolk called him, was a natural born protector. He had never been one to back down from a fight, and, as he planned to live through all his fights, he dedicated much of his time to developing his skills. He would often be seen near the docks or the entrance to the market, talking with foreign merchants and their guards, asking them to teach him what they knew of combat in exchange for a day’s labor. His friends constantly warned him that knowledge wouldn’t buy him food or lodging, but he would just laugh.
It was in this fashion he honed his skills over the years and taught them to his fellows. He could disarm anyone in a matter of seconds and have a man twice his size on his back in under a minute (so the children said). He had even studied the blade, something his fellow brawlers stayed away from- too much like the royals and knights, they argued, and rolled their eyes when Hob insisted on learning anyway. No one would think it to look at him, that an average sized and modestly handsome day laborer would have such a knack for survival and zest for life.
Hob’s best friend noted the glazed, entranced look on his face and gave him a teasing shove. “Come on, Hob,” he goaded, “Leave the royals to their tea and cakes, we’ve got work to do.”
“Piss off, Adrian,” Hob replied as he returned the shove with a brief smile. “Not every day you get to see one roll into town. Besides, I’ve never seen Prince Morpheus before. Heard the rumors, but I had no idea he was so- so…” That glazed look returned as he searched for the right word.
“Arrogant?” Adrian supplied. “Sour? Pompous?”
“Beautiful.” Hob’s response was barely a whisper, as if the sentiment was something he wanted to keep secret but couldn't stop it from slipping out.
Adrian rolled his bottle green eyes. This was not the first time Hob had been besotted with someone after a glance, nor was it likely to be the last. The man had so much love in his heart to give, he just also happened to have a bad habit of choosing the worst possible people to bestow that love upon. Adrian could only hope this would be one of his shorter and less depressing devotions. Gods knew Hob had less than a figment of a chance with the Prince.
“Come on, lover boy, Waldren’s waiting for us.”
Adrian wrapped an arm around Hob’s shoulders and turned him away from the palace. Hob went willingly, but not without one last misty-eyed glance over his shoulder, wondering idly what the Prince was doing behind those marble walls.
Chapter 1
According to Morpheus, attending his father’s court and sitting in on council meetings fit the definition of ‘cruel and unusual punishment’. He rarely had anything to contribute to the other nobles’ gossip- not that he wanted to get involved in the first place- and the council advisors just loved passing off his suggestions as their own. His presence amounted to little more than an interesting trinket brought out at opportune moments to curry favor- or, in some cases, to parade in front of potential spouses. It seemed that this summer would see at least a dozen suitors visiting the palace over the course of the five and a half months Morpheus would be at court.
Finally, one sweltering and humid summer day, the Prince reached his tipping point. He was hot and sticky, aggravated and on edge. This breaking point came around mid morning, when he had had enough of listening to the pompous treasurer drone on and on. Without preamble, he rose from his seat and stomped out of the council hall, ignoring the calls of his father and the advisors. Everyone he passed in the halls jumped out of his way, able to feel the ire rolling off him like the heat rising from the cobblestones.
He needed to get out, away from the palace, and burn off some of this aggravation before he did or said something rash.
His first stop was his chambers, where he changed from the fancier attire expected at court to a loose-fitting gray shirt and black cotton breeches tucked into tall riding boots. Already feeling a little better, he made a beeline for the stables. His piebald mare Jessamy was munching happily in her stall, but perked up when she heard Morpheus’ footsteps. The Prince waved off the anxious stable boy who stumbled over the words, “Should I saddle her sir?” in favor of slipping on the bridle himself and swinging up onto her bare back.
With a few clicks of his tongue and a gentle nudge with his heels, Jessamy gamely trotted out of her stall, past the stable boy, and all the way into the courtyard before tossing her head and cantering out the palace’s southern gate, away from the city.
The paths through the forest were wide and well kept. Morpheus followed the main road for about a mile before turning onto a trail that was barely visible, unless one knew where to look. He slowed Jessamy to a walk to better navigate the tall grass and rushes that threatened to overtake the narrow trail. This far into the woods, all the Prince could hear was the birds, the wind, and the puffs of his and Jessamy’s breaths. A relieved sigh rattled out of his lungs and he slumped slightly on her back.
The trail ended at a small lake surrounded by willow trees. The air was cooler here, almost like stepping into another world. Baby shoots of grass were starting to poke through the previous year’s fallen leaves, and twittering birds fluttered between branches. The lake was surrounded by intermittently placed boulders of various sizes, giving it the appearance of a faerie ring, or a window to another world. Some of these boulders were light and bare, others dark with patches of lichen and moss. They all made for excellent perches to sit on and dip one’s feet in the water.
Tiny fish swam about in their schools, the concaves of their nests visible on the lakebed through the crystal clear water. A frog croaked from somewhere within the leafy plants growing stubbornly between the rocks and into the lake.
Morpheus dismounted with another sigh and loosely tied Jessamy’s reins to a branch. The mare shook her head again and began to delicately nibble on the new spring grass. While she enjoyed her snack, Morpheus sat on one of the flatter boulders at the edge of the lake and tugged his boots off, followed by his socks, then his shirt.
The moan he let out when his feet slipped into the cold water was almost indecent. He let his eyes flutter shut and his head tilt back as he dug his toes into the soft silt. After a few quiet minutes, he rolled his breeches up to his knees and waded further into the lake, his arms held out slightly for balance as the sand shifted beneath his feet. He waded deeper and deeper, all the way to mid-thigh, not caring in the least that he would be riding back with soaked trousers. Adding one more item to the list of things his father berated him for wouldn’t make a difference.
Morpheus already felt much better than when he left the palace, but he could still feel his hackles bristling, could still sense the undercurrent of tension and resentment running through his shoulders. The cold water was, apparently, not to be enough to cool him off.
With an almost aggravated sigh (how could it have come to this?), Morpheus loosened the ties at his waist and reached past his undergarments into his breeches. A rumbling groan slipped past his self control as his fingers wrapped around his cock. His other hand shifted the waistband of his breeches so his cock could spring free, a shiver running down his spine at the contact with the humid air. His toes curled into the lakebed as he moved his hand faster, occasionally running his thumb over the slit.
He had worked himself to full hardness and was eagerly chasing his high when a branch snapped in the trees behind him. He jumped, startled, and his head swiveled, looking for the source of the sound. The Prince held still, so still that no new ripples formed in the water around his ankles.
After moments that seemed like years, Morpheus relaxed ever so slightly. It was probably just a deer stepping on a dry twig. His cock throbbed insistently, as if urging him to get back to the task at hand. Morpheus shook his head and turned his focus back to between his legs.
Another rustle in the bushes, this one closer. Morpheus frowned; he had now been twice interrupted, and the agitation was creeping back into his bones. “Who’s there?” he called, hoping he sounded more angry than anxious. He tucked himself back into his trousers and sloshed out of the lake, muscles coiled in anticipation.
Out of the trees stepped a man. Clearly a commoner, if his worn shirt and breeches were anything to go by. Dark hair was pulled into a respectably long tail at the nape of his neck, and a neatly trimmed beard of the same dark hair covered the lower half of his face. Morpheus could see a small patch of yet more dark hair peeking out from the low V of the man’s shirt. Earthy eyes sparkled in the patches of sunlight that made their way through the trees, and they were hazily focused on the bulge in the Prince’s trousers. He had clearly been lost in his own thoughts, an apple raised to his lips as if he were about to take a bite.
Morpheus was still frozen, but for an entirely different reason. For a commoner, this man was exceedingly handsome- had he been born to the nobility, he would have lords and ladies alike falling over themselves to win his favor.
Hob jumped when his mind registered he was standing before the Prince. For one, he thought that he and some of his friends were the only ones who knew about this little lake in the forest, and, two, holy shit that was Prince Morpheus standing in front of him, barefoot and bare chested, a semi creating a small bulge in the front of his breeches.
“Oh fuck!” The apple flew out of his hand- he fumbled to catch it, just barely holding on to the fruit as he sank into a low bow, one leg in front of the other, back leg bent, eyes firmly fixed on the ground, arms out to the sides as he had seen the other nobles do.
Morpheus held up a placating palm as he awkwardly said, “Please rise, there is no need to stand on ceremony,” even though the other couldn’t see the gesture.
Hob rose out of his bow and placed his hands behind his back so Morpheus wouldn’t see his nervous fidgeting. How was it possible this man was a prince, was incredibly gorgeous, AND had a voice that could lure any sailor to their watery grave? “A-apologies, sir, Highness, I- I didn’t think anyone else knew about this place-” He swallowed hard, trying in vain to control his nervous babble. “I didn’t mean to disturb you, I can just-”
“It’s quite alright.” Morpheus chuckled in spite of himself- it sounded a little strained to his own ears, but maybe that was because the erection that had fled in his momentary fear was starting to make a comeback at the sight of the beautiful man before him. “I wasn’t aware others knew of this spot either.”
Hob laughed as well, tense and awkward, scratching the back of his head. But oh gods, his smile could light up the darkest of dungeons. Morpheus could feel his heart clench in his chest, already wanting to see that smile again. The Prince asked, “What is your name?”
“Robert,” Hob answered quickly with another little bow. “Robert Gadling. But my friends call me Hob.” He let out a bashfully choked laugh. “I already know who you are, Prince Morpheus. I mean, just about the whole realm knows who you are. Your Highness.”
Morpheus had taken a breath to respond when there was more rustling in the trees behind Hob, much more than what could be created by a single man or animal. The Prince froze again, lowered into a slight crouch. Hob immediately whirled around and positioned himself protectively between Morpheus and the tree line. His apple lay forgotten on the forest floor as he settled into a ready stance, his hands curled into loose fists, ready to strike or protect his torso.
Morpheus had always been independent to the point of being described as a loner, therefore the swirling feeling in his gut at the sight of Hob ready to defend him was completely foreign. It curled in his stomach and slithered between his legs, bringing back that inner heat the cold lake water had once absorbed. And if Hob didn’t see him glancing at the curve of his ass every few seconds… Well, that was between Morpheus and the trees.
The trees and grasses rustled again to reveal two men in dark gray rags, the lower halves of their faces covered with another piece of fabric. Dirt smudged the visible skin around their eyes. They were each carrying a wicked looking dagger, the blades sharp even if the handles were dotted with rust.
Hob immediately knew these were bandits- highwaymen that lurked in the trees and waited for the opportune moment to pounce. And they had just found quite the prize.
Jessamy snorted and stomped her feet, sensing the imminent danger. The bandits inched closer, step by step, knives held threateningly aloft. Hob glared at them, refusing to back down, hoping they would develop some sense and realize that whatever they had planned was not a good idea. One of them chuckled in eager anticipation.
“Turn around,” Hob ground out softly, eyes darting between the two, “and I won’t have to bash your heads in.” The bandits exchanged a momentary glance, as if debating the merit of Hob’s words. Apparently, they reached the decision that they had none, because they continued to advance, knives gleaming and ready to cut into flesh.
Morpheus crept back towards the lake, inching toward Jessamy, heart pounding in his throat. He had never encountered bandits before; the closest he had ever come to someone who had broken the law was on formal inspections of rehabilitation facilities where the offenders had been cleaned up and supervised by wardens. Now, he didn’t have wardens or his retinue or even his hunting knife- his only protection from these two bandits was another commoner who could just as easily decide Morpheus was worth the trouble of kidnapping, or killing, or both.
“Last warning,” Hob growled, the bandits now within striking distance.
The one on the right turned to his companion: “Get him.”
Hob swore then yelled to Morpheus, “Go! Leave!” as the first bandit came at him with the knife aloft, intending to bring it down into Hob’s shoulder, or wherever he could reach. He sidestepped the blow and redirected the bandit’s momentum so that he went stumbling towards the water.
The second bandit charged forward, knife point aimed at Hob’s chest. He grabbed the bandit’s wrist with enough force to make him drop the knife and drove his knee into the bandit’s side. The attacker grunted and doubled over, using the forward momentum to drive his shoulder into Hob’s stomach.
It was a lucky shot that knocked the wind out of him. Hob shoved the bandit away from him, hoping to buy a moment to catch his breath.
The first bandit had recovered his footing and rushed in from behind Hob, wrapping wiry arms around a golden throat. Hob’s eyes went wide as his breath was cut off, the bandit only squeezing harder as he struggled. The two assailants coordinated their next move with eye contact alone, one holding Hob by the throat while the other stepped into striking distance and threw a sloppy but strong punch at Hob’s face.
The bandit’s knuckles hit him square on the cheekbone. Hob cried out as his head snapped to the side. The man’s other fist came up and landed a punch across his mouth, hard enough to make his nose bleed and teeth rattle and split his bottom lip open.
“Fuck-” The swear was strained and came out with blood and spit. His vision starting to blacken around the edges, Hob reared his arm up and drove his elbow into the soft midsection at his back. Instantly, his windpipe was free as arms released him and the bandit doubled over in pain. Hob took several gasping breaths as he turned to the bandit who had been choking him and drove his fist into his temple, all the force and energy going down, hard enough to knock him out.
Hob turned his attention to the remaining bandit. The scrawny man was in a ready stance, hands curled into loose fists held up by his face, but clearly hesitant after watching his partner literally get beaten into the ground. Hob grinned, feral and almost cocky as he mimicked the man’s stance- on a closer look, he was barely a man, just an older boy with his first whiskers. Hob didn’t want to hurt the kid, but he may not have a choice.
With unexpected ferocity, the boy lunged closer, fist ready to fly. Hob dodged one punch, then another, the third glancing off his shoulder- poor lad was already panting for breath, sparking just a hint of pity.
“Come on, lad,” he tried reasoning, “just walk away.”
The young man’s only response was a desperate yell as he charged Hob, going for a grapple. Hob easily deflected him with a step and a twist, sending the bandit falling hard on his back. Hob settled into his stance, and with a well-aimed kick to his temple, he too was dealt with.
Silence suddenly rang in the clearing, broken only by Hob’s slightly panting breaths. His hands were still clenched into ready fists at his sides.
Morpheus had sprinted a quarter of the way around the lake to where he had tethered Jessamy. He had been ready to bolt at Hob’s word, now he soothed the mare with soft words and gentle caresses. It was like he was watching the whole thing through hazy glass, observing and present but removed, just left of in tune with the world. His chest felt tight, his hands shook uncontrollably as he tried to process all that had happened in a few short moments.
Hob moved out of his combative stance to crouch beside one of their would-be assailants. Morpheus quickly retied Jessamy to the branch and walked over to Hob, feeling extremely awkward and somewhat out of his depth. What did one say to the handsome stranger who had undoubtedly saved him from being abducted, if not worse? ‘Thank you’ did not seem to be anywhere near enough, far less than what Hob was owed for his deed. And yet, the words ‘thank you’ seemed to stick in his throat, refusing to come out.
He stood uncomfortably over Hob, who was pawing through the bandits’ clothes, hoping to find some clue as to their motives, and whether they went beyond simple highway robbery. The Prince had taken a fortifying breath to thank his protector when Hob ground out a curse in another language he had learned from a merchant. In his hand was a worn letter, folded and held together with a black seal. A sigil of stars and other symbols of magick was pressed into the wax.
It was, without a doubt, the seal of Roderick Burgess, King of Fawney Rigg.
“You might want to see this, Highness.” Hob rose to his feet and handed Morpheus the letter. His free hand swiped at his split lip and bloody nose- at least it wasn’t broken, again. He could feel the flesh around his cheekbone swelling painfully. Hob caught the Prince’s sympathetic flinch, small as it was, as he took the paper. Icy eyes quickly scanned its contents, dark brows furrowing closer together the more he read.
“I must return to the palace.” The words tumbled out of him as he refolded the letter and stuffed it in the waistband of his breeches. Moving quickly, Morpheus tugged his shirt back over his head and boots onto his feet as he continued, “My father needs to be made aware of what happened. Burgess sending armed men across our border with orders to watch and intercept me is no idle threat.”
He unhitched Jessamy and used a fallen log as a mounting block, swinging a lithe leg over her back and expertly gathering the reins. He looked down at Hob as he wheeled her around, holding himself with the distant majesty of a monarch despite his disheveled state. Hob could only stare up in awe, a worshiper at the foot of his god. Dappled beams of sunlight illuminated the Prince like a halo, and Hob was sure in that moment the Prince was indeed fae touched as the rumors went, if not outright divine in his own right.
“I think it is no exaggeration to say you saved my life,” Morpheus proclaimed, even if the forest and the man before him were the only ones to hear the royal edict. “I am in your debt, Robert Gadling. And I will settle that debt once this threat to the Dreaming is resolved.”
Hob bowed at his words, low and slow and reverent. A few globs of blood dribbled out of his nose and onto the grass. As he rose, he said, “Then at least let me escort you out of the forest and to the main road. I doubt there are any more of these men lurking around, Highness, but I would feel better seeing you to safety.” The last part was true, but Hob figured he probably shouldn’t mention the other reason for his offer: Prince Morpheus had utterly enchanted him, and this was likely to be the last time he’d see the man up close, let alone speak to him one to one, and he wasn’t ready for it to be over.
Pale, elegant fingers twitched briefly around the reins as Morpheus considered his words. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, searching for the right response. Finally, he settled on, “I would be glad of your company. Let us go.”
He clicked his tongue to get Jessamy moving at a walk, Hob keeping pace beside her. They were silent as they picked their way back to the main forest road, but Hob was on high alert. His eyes darted back and forth, fists clenching and releasing in time with his steps. It was relatively easy to ignore the stickiness of drying blood around his mouth and chin when he was so focused on looking for signs of danger. Thankfully, the trip passed without incident. Morpheus pulled Jessamy to a halt once they were inside the city gates.
“My thanks again, Robert Gadling.” Jessamy pawed at the ground as Morpheus spoke, eager to be back in the safety of her stall. “I do not like leaving my debts unpaid.” The unspoken request for Hob to name his price hung in the air like a phantom. Hob merely gave the Prince a gentle smile and bowed again, still formal but relaxed and easy.
“This time spent with you is payment enough, Highness.” He paused and bit his lip, plucking up his courage with a slight wince of pain. “May I… Could I call on you? If my day’s work brings me to the palace.”
Morpheus turned the request over in his mind long enough for Jessamy to grow impatient. He soothed her with a few gentle pats on her neck. “You may,” he finally replied. “As long as my duties permit, I will be glad to receive you.” Morpheus had already turned his horse and urged her into a trot before Hob could say a proper farewell. The gentle goodbye hung unspoken on his lips. Finally, he sighed and kicked a stray pebble as he made his way to the boarding house he called home for a bath and some rest.
61 notes
·
View notes
Text
“Ashkenazi Jews don’t actually have Levantine genetic ancestry” has been floating around lately among naïve and conspiracy minded anti-Zionists, a problematic claim that undermines actually correct anti-Zionist principles and defense of Palestinian rights. This claim is
absolutely irrelevant, as “blood” originating on the “soil” does not grant anyone any right to an ethnostate on any land. Using area-native ethnicity to justify discrimination and mass killing is bad when it’s Yamato Japanese discriminating against Korean, Mainland Chinese, and Taiwanese minorities in Japan and it’s bad when it’s Celtic-Germanic descent Brits oppressing Celtic-Germanic descent Irish who they’re genetically undifferentiatable from. It was bad when it was Hutus killing Tutsis and it was bad when it was the Khmer Rouge killing Chinese and Vietnamese Cambodians. The actions of the Israeli state in immiserating and slaughtering non-Jewish Palestinians would be equally harmful and wrong if the diaspora had never happened and every Israeli could trace their resident lineage in an unbroken line back to the time of the Second Temple, because it is bad to destroy people’s homes, burn their crops, imprison them, and kill them.
incorrect, at least according to current scientific consensus. Most genetic studies seem to indicate that Ashkenazim are of majority European descent and also have ancestry in the Levant, that is: the Ashkenazi population had some Levantine founders and there’s been significant amounts of intermarriage over the hundreds and hundreds of years of the diaspora into Southern Europe and from there across Central and Eastern Europe.
irrelevant again because even if, through a combination of conversions, adoptions, intermarriage, and adulterous and out of wedlock pairings between Jews and local gentiles, the diasporic European Jewish population had become completely genetically indistinguishable from local gentiles, those Jews would still have been the children of Israel. They still would have learned to read the Torah and celebrate its festivals. They still would have learned, from their families and communities in an unbroken line, to pray “Sh’ma Yisrael, Adonai eloheinu, Adonai echad” (Hear, Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is one) as the rabbinic sages of Roman Judea observed in the Talmud that they were commanded to do. They still would have spoken languages with Hebrew and Aramaic elements, and they still would have written them with letters recognizable in the Dead Sea Scrolls. They still would have had the same interests, affirmed daily and yearly, in the land that their people left so many hundreds of years ago.
One formulation of the claim is “Israel bans direct to consumer genetic testing because it shows that (Ashkenazi) Jews don’t have Middle Eastern ancestry”. The Israeli government does ban DTC genetic testing as part of a genetic information privacy and nondiscrimination law passed in 2000, before companies like 23andMe existed. DNA testing for ancestry can be interpreted and presented many ways, and the ancestry breakdowns given by DTC GT companies just do not correspond to the question “where, how, and through what migrations did this population originate?”.
Once again, Zionism is not bad because people residing in places their ancestors are not from is bad. That is fine. Zionism is bad because from its beginning the Zionist project has been one of violent dispossession and because that violent dispossession continues in and through this very present moment.
121 notes
·
View notes
Text
Houses in traditional astrology.
Instead of making separate posts for each house, I thought it’d be more judicious & practical to compile everything into one singular post for concision’s sake.
Some necessary contextualization before we get to the point:
— Most houses don’t represent personality traits or characteristics. They represent experiences & areas of your life. Your self in the more rudimentary sense of the term is the 1st house. Other houses can be other people, places, or experiences.
— The ascendant/1st house is you, not a “mask”, your “basic self”, a “facade” or a “superficial persona” it’s for the major part everything modern astrology believes the sun to be.
— The ascendant/1H representing you does not mean other placements cannot be relevant or resonant (as explained here), that’s an oversimplification and nothing in life is ever that simple. All elements in a chart matter, but to believe everything is a “me” indicators is far too reductive. This is especially relevant wrt appearance. While the 1H has higher than average chances of coming through when it comes to the visual aspect, there are other things that come into play — namely genetics, the Moon, the 2nd house, the IC, & the Ascendant Lord.
— There are 12 houses and 7 traditional planets. You will most certainly have empty houses — though inactive they are not. Even if there are no planets in a house, there will always be a planet ruling it and its themes will still hold significance to you & your life experiences, there just won’t be as much focus on them as there would be with houses containing planets.
— Signs don’t “naturally” rule houses. Aries does NOT signify the 1H unless you’re an Aries rising. In fact, “rulership” is something only planets can do. Not signs, not houses, just planets! The signs are a celestial system that shows HOW a planet’s energy expresses itself, whereas houses are a terrestial system that shows WHERE that energy is expressed (areas of life). You can read ABC house system debunks online, or wait for me to write one!
🪞 1st House 🪞
— Angular house
— Mercury’s joy
— “The Helm”
— Eastern horizon
— Horoskopos (hour marker)
— Inceptions
— Beginnings
— Life
— Body
— Appearance
— Personality
— Self & Identity
— Self Expression
— Vitality & Health
💰 2nd House 💰
— Succedent house
— “The Gate of Hades”
— Livelihood
— Prospects
— Desires
— Money & assets
— Physical posessions
— End of youth
— Financial affairs
— Time
— Value
— Materiality
— Ownership
— Sustenance
📜 3rd House 📜
— Cadent House
— The Moon’s joy
— “Goddess”
— Siblings
— Extended Relatives
— Short Distance Travel
— Religious sites & rites
— Places of worship
— Neighborhoods
— Small communities
— Communication & Writing
— School
— Learning
— Education
— Everyday life, routines
🪦 4th House 🪦
— Angular house
— Lowest angle of the chart
— “Subterranean”
— Family
— Parents
— Land
— Home & Property
— Privacy
— Secrets
— Roots & lineage
— Ancestry & genealogy
— Place(s) of Origin
— Inheritance
— The “past”
— Generational trauma
— Hidden treasures
— End of life
— Death & rituals surrounding it
— Endings
— Graveyards
— The Underground
🌹 5th House 🌹
— Succedent house
— Venus’ joy
— “Good Fortune”
— Romance
— Relationships
— Desire & Pleasure
— Praise & Worship
— Sexuality/Sex
— Creativity & Creation
— Art & artistic expression
— Children
— Charity
— Diplomacy & diplomats
— Pleasant pursuits & joy
— Gambling
🩸 6th House 🩸
— Cadent house
— Mars’ joy
— “Bad Fortune”
— Illness & Injury
— Health & Sickness
— Servitude
— Employees & subordinates
— Labor
— Work
— Sports
— Fighting
— Physical Harm
— Medical Professionals
— Herbalism & medicine
— Small animals & pets
⚖️ 7th House ⚖️
— Angular house
— “Setting” angle
— Marriage
— Spouse
— Partnerships
— Open enemies
— the “Other” (≠ of the self, the 1H)
— Commitments& agreements
— Confrontation
— Lawsuits
— Legal disputes
— Contracts
— Business
💸 8th House 💸
— Succedent house
— “Idle Place”
— Death & Endings
— Other people’s money & assets
— Debt
— Taxes
— Legacies
— Inheritance
— Grief
— Trauma
— Psychology & shadow work
— Shared resources & belongings
— Stagnation
— Fears
— Secrets
🔮 9th House 🔮
— Cadent house
— Joy of the Sun
— “God”
— Higher education & academic pursuits
— Pursuit of knowledge
— Teachers & professors
— Occult pursuits & faculties
— Religion
— Foreign places
— Long distance travel
— Pilgrimage
— Divination & Astrology
— Philosophy
— Dreams
— Prophecies
💼 10th House 💼
— Angular house
— “Midheaven”
— Highest angle of the chart
— Vocation
— Career
— Mother
— Fame
— Ambition & aspiration
— Recognition
— Influence
— The future
— Goals
— Social status
— Achievements
— Profession
— Public affairs
— Reputation
— Authority figures & leaders
— Government
— Social aspirations
🎉 11th House 🎉
— Succedent house
— Jupiter’s joy
— “Good Spirit”
— Friends
— Alliances
— Trust
— Emancipation
— Community
— Network
— Supporters & patrons
— Organizations
— Groups
— Mutual aid & support
🏥 12th House 🏥
— Cadent house
— Saturn’s joy
— ”Bad Spirit”
— Prior to birth: mother's labor
— Isolation
— Retreat
— Large animals
— Exile
— Rumors
— Misfortunes
— Envy
— Hidden enemies
— Betrayal
— (of Self or otherwise) Sabotage
— Mental health
— Restrictions
— Hospitals
— Incarceration
#astrology#astro notes#astrological observations#hellenistic astrology#astrological houses#houses in astrology#zodiac
146 notes
·
View notes
Text
Silmarillion Daily - Of the Finding of the Elves
This was one that struck me hard on the reread, because the parallels between Oromë encountering the Elves for the first time, and Finrod encountering Men for the first time in Beleriand, are so strong.
In both cases, they come upon them while hunting, on the edge of the eastern mountains, when they hear them singing:
And on a time it chanced that Oromë rode eastward in his hunting, and he turned north by the shore of Helcar and passed under the shadows of the Orocarni, the Mountains of the East. Then on a sudden Nahar set up a great neighing, and stood still. And Oromë wondered and sat silent, and it seemed to him that in the quiet of the land under the stars he heard afar off many voices singing.
Finrod Felagund lord of Nargothrond journeyed east of Sirion and went hunting with Maglor amd Maedhros…In a valley among the foothills of the mountains, below the springs of Thalos, [Finrod] saw lights in the mountains, and far off he heard the sound of song.
In both cases they see these new people and love them not in spire of, but because of, the fact that they are different from themselves:
And Oromë looking upon the Elves was filled with wonder, as though they were beings sudden and marvellous and unforeseen…And Oromë loved the Quendi, and named them in their own tongue Eldar, the people of the stars.
Then Felagund, standing silent in the night-shadow of the trees, looked down into the camp, and there he beheld a strange people…Long Felagund watched them, and love for them stirred in his heart.
Here is where things diverge - and I think this is very intentional on Finrod’s part. He grew up among the Valar. He would have heard the story of Oromë first encountering the Elves hundreds of times, and he’s suddenly found himself in a parallel situation. And he would remember from the story how so e Elves reacted when Oromë, a Vala, suddenly appeared among them:
Yet many of the Quendi were filled with dread at his coming; and this was the doing of Melkor. For by after-knowledge the Wise declare that Melkor, ever watchful, was first aware of the awakening of the Quendi, and sent shadows and evil spirits to spy upon them and waylay them. So it came to pass, some years ere the coming of Oromë, that if any of the Elves strayed far abroad, alone or few together, they would often vanish, and never return; and the Quendi said that the Hunter had caught them, and were afraid…Thus it was than when Nahar neighed and Oromë indeed came among them, some of the Quendi hid themselves, and some fled and were lost.
And some of these elves who hid or fled were captured by Melkor and turned into Orcs.
So Finrod thinks of this, and decides he doesn’t want to risk startling them and thereby endangering them. So he waits until they are all sleeping, and then goes down and plays music, and because of the beauty and the dreamlike feel of things, they are not afraid and don’t run.
Now men awoke and listened to Felagund as he harped and sang, and each thought that he was in some fair dream, until that he saw that his fellows were awake also beside him; but they did not speak or stir while Felagund still played, because of the beauty of the music and the wonder of the song.
In a way, it’s no wonder that Men at first mistake Finrod for a Vala - he’s reliving the experience of the Vala who first discovered the Elves, and he’s trying (and succeeding) to use that history to do better. And this continues in his later dealings with Men. The Valar gave the Elves a binary choice: come to Valinor and we’ll teach you and keep you safe, or stay in Middle-earth and you’re on your own. But Finrod leaves the choice up to Men: Bëor wants to come with him to Nargothrond, the others choose to stay in Estolad, later generations come to live in Dorthonion, and he does his best to look out for them and advise them whichever of those choices they make. I suspect he’s thinking of the history between the Elves and the Valar again here, and wondering what might have happened if the Valar had taken a different approach.
Now, that does not last. The Valar were not able to keep the Elves free from harm even in Valinor, and Finrod, who does not have a Vala’s power, is still less able to keep them safe in Beleriand. But he’s doing the best he can. And I think it’s the shock of that moment in the Fen of Serech, when not only is he unable to get to Dorthonion to help his little brothers and the House of Bëor, but the men of the House of Bëor are saving him and losing their lives doing it, that prompts his oath to Barahir. On the flip side, for Barahir, you can contrast this reaction to that of Fëanor and many of the Noldor at the Darkening. The Darkening is when the Noldor realize the Valar can lose; and the Bragollach is similarly when Men see that Elves can lose. But because Men’s relationship with Elves is already to some extent a collaborative one, seeing them lose just makes them seem more ‘human’ rather than prompting the sense of betrayal the Noldor seem to have felt towards the Valar.
58 notes
·
View notes
Text
It's only natural the Heavens and Earth would resound when our blades would cross each other.
Kirinmaru
I walk the path of supreme conquest, and it is power that will reveal the way for me.
Sesshomaru
Artwork by X
#kirinmaru#og sesshomaru#og sesshoumaru#lord of the eastern lands#lord of the western lands#Beast Kings#daiyokai#qilin#inugami#yokai#Dusk and Dawn
59 notes
·
View notes
Text
Condemnation Decree filed in U.S. v. All the Rights, Titles, of Robert E. Lee (Robert E. Lee Confiscation Case)
Record Group 21: Records of District Courts of the United StatesSeries: Confiscation Case FilesFile Unit: U.S. v. The Right, Title, Interest, and Estate of Robert E. Lee
[printed] At a special term of the District Court of the United States of America for the Eastern District of Virginia, held at the Court Room in the [handwritten] Customs House Building [typed] in the city of [handwritten] Alexandria [printed], on [handwritten] Friday the 15th day of April, [printed] in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred sixty three
[printed] Present, the Honorable John C. Underwood, District Judge.
[handwritten] No. 85
United States
vs.
All the rights titles interests and the Estate of Robert E Lee in and to All that certain piece parcel or lot of land and to the Home and buildings thereon situated lying and being in Alexandria County in the Eastern District of Virginia known as the Arlington House Estate formerly owned by George Washington Parke Custis and lately occupied by the said Robert E Lee Consisting of Eleven Hundred acres more or less Together with all the goods chattels and the personal property of the said Robert E Lee in and upon the said premises [illegible]
[printed] The papers in this cause having been heretofore returned, the usual proclamation having been made, the default of all persons being duly entered, and notwithstanding said default, witnesses having been called and examined by [handwritten] L H Chandler [printed] , Attorney for the United States, and due deliberation being had on the pleadings and proofs, it is thereupon, on motion of the said [handwritten] L H Chandler [printed] , ordered, adjudged, sentenced, and decreed by the Court, that the real and personal property mentioned and described in the libel in this cause, be, and the same accordingly is confiscated and condemned as forfeited to the United States.
[printed] And upon like motion it is further ordered, adjudged, and decreed, that the Clerk of this Court issue a decree of venditioni exponas to the Marshall of the District, returnable upon [handwritten] ascending [illegible word]; [typed] and that the said Marshal, after having given at least [handwritten- Tene?] [printed] days notice of the time, place, and terms of sale [carrot-handwritten in] of the personal property [printed] by publication thereof in [handwritten] the Virginia State District in one or more [illegible word] [printed] published in the city of [handwritten] Alexandriae. [illegible 3 words] dat. Notice of [illegible word] place and [illegible word] of sale of the Real Estate by [persecutions?] thereof in one or more [illegible 2 words] in the City of Alexandria and in one or more [illegible 2 words] in the City of Washington DC [printed] sell the said property at public sale, for cash, to the highest bidder, and execute a deed for the real estate to the purchaser, and bring the proceeds of said sale into this Court for its action thereon.
[handwritten signature] John C. Underwood
Dist Judge
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
The wasted narrative potential of the Church of Seiros' weakness.
The church of Seiros is rather infamous, as it is the organization overseeing the main Faith of Fódlan, akin to the Catholic Church in medieval Europe, including for the small territoires.
The Church is seen by the Fandom and by many in-universe as truly powerful, controlling the Land through the devotion of the people, with a goal of ruling all of Fódlan as puppet masters at best.
That however is factually false.
The Church of Seiros is not some all-powerful organization, and isn't even unified.
Rhea refuse to use her power to dictate policies of the nations, in fact, she many times is too meek, though it make sense.
The Eastern Church are weaponless and puppets of the lords of Leicester, the Southern Church was destroyed, and Faerghus is divided between the western and Central church, with the Western Church and it's aligned lords being traitors to both the Crown and central Church, and puppets of the Agarthans.
Furthermore, the ideology of the Church, that promote the restraint from abusing Crests, is utterly ignored whenever convenient.
And just look what happened with the Central Church being invaded! Many lords of Leicester and Faerghus swore themselves to Edelgard, and even in Adrestia, Edie didn't seem to face opposition.
Though that last point is a bit horseshit, I'm French, and our own first revolution caused a Civil War with the Vendée region's commoners being the most famous for fighting to defend Crown, lords and Faith, it also show how Hresvelg propaganda against the Church, Hresvelg, not merely Edelgard, destroyed the ability of the Church to call to aid anyone south of Garreg Mach, or even East of it.
The matter really is a wasted opportunity narratively, because the Church being all powerful is something done often in fiction, but beside the actively treacherous and xenophobic Western Church, none of the Churches is really doing manipulation, and the western Church's plots are guided by the Agarthans anyway.
I think there's a lot of possible stories from a Church-centric POV about how the Faith's weakness and scapegoat status, and the fact that so few care for it in favor of treating the organization as the genderbend Catholic Church on steroids is disappointing.
I've seen the comparison with the schrodinger cat being done with the Church and Rhea, the idea being that they're blamed whenever they "overstep", ignoring how their actions are usually justified, but at the same time blamed when they stay out of shits.
If anyone do know stories which exploit this potential, do tell.
#fire emblem: three houses#fire emblem discourse#rhea positive#church of seiros#church of seiros discourse#canon vs fanon#fanfiction#lady rhea#rhea fire emblem
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
Kingdoms - Obey Me TSL
[✧] ー Have you ever wondered how each kingdom in the Tale of Seven Lords looks? Part 2 of my TSL rants <3 all of them will come with the tag #♡ ┊ tsl rants by pk.
[✧] ー extra: Lord Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, Luke and even Solomon's places are mentioned too :)
The Main Three:
♡ ┊ There are three empires over all. Where angels, the holy creatures of light reside, is named Aurum. And where the Demons, creatures of darkness and sin reside, is named Sumbra. And then there is the land of humans, the place were creatures hold both darkness and light within themselves, known as Equilibrium.
♡ ┊ Aurum is ruled by a group of higher up angels named 'Father'. That father doesn't exist, but many believe it to do, especially the humans of Equilibrium. Some of the angels are known of these dark truths, and flee. The angel Simeon and the young angel in training Luke are two examples of the ones who flee, and live in Sumbra. The kingdom of demons, Sumbra, has one main Emperor, known as the King of Lords. That is where Lord Diavolo stands. That part of Sumbra is pretty much like a capital and has its own dukes, counts, etc. The roles are mostly based on Ars Goetia, much like Duke Barbatos. There are six kingdoms in Sumbra, ruled over by the seven overlords.
♡ ┊ And last but not the least is Equilibrium. The main king is King Solomon the wise, but the king himself is not seen much and is only named in stories. King Solomon the wise has disguised himself as a traveller between the three worlds and is known as a sorcerer.
Lord of Corruption:
♡ ┊ The Lord of Corruption's kingdom is by far, the coldest. Full of tall mountains and snow, and corrupted shadows. It is as if clouds are always looming over the kingdom throughout the daytime, and it's very rare for the people to see the sun. Nights are usually clear, but the shadows are ever lasting. The people in Lord of Corruption's domain are known for their harsh exterior but soft hearts, and they're very good when it comes to taming and controlling others. People are mostly wearing warm clothing, and they're very formal.
Lord of Fools:
♡ ┊ A deserted area, but full of glory. Imagine ancient Egypt, but make it eve more magical and elegant. The weather is usually hot, even in winters. As I stated in my other post, I like to imagine that his kingdom has multiple mines of gold and diamond, and many palaces like ancient middle eastern asian countries. The people are known for their good trades and they have connections all over Sumbra, some having connections in Equilibrium too. While Lord of Shadow's domain is good at training knights and war, Lord of Fool's domain is known for their wealth and connection, which makes them very scary.
Lord of Shadow:
♡ ┊ A fantasy kingdom, surrounded by water. The weather is amazing, if you enjoy being around seas a lot. Most of the people have their own sea pets and are great swimmers. I've once read that Levi trained and lead soldiers in wars, and so, I believe his kingdom in the TSL series is also good at training knights. The best knights in Sumbra are trained in Lord of Shadow's domain and have a badge that indicates that they've been trained there. They have huge troops of soldiers for wars and are known for their shape shifting abilities.
Lord of Masks:
♡ ┊ Have you ever seen pictures of magical forests where elves live? Where fairies fly around freely and magical animals walk around? That's the vibes I get when I think of the Lord of Masks. Also, many mystical animals are there. From golden deers to six eyed cats. The weather can be like rainy forests in summer, or as cold as the night in a desert. The whole kingdom, overall, gives cottagecore vibes. The people are known for their talent in plays and theatres. And if you want to read a good book, the best writers are from Lord of Masks' territory.
Lord of Lechery:
♡ ┊ Again another kingdom within mountains, but unlike Lord of Corruption's kingdom, Lord of Lechery's kingdom has warmer weather and more colorful flowers. Lord of Lechery's kingdom, or Asmo's kingdom, is also home to colorful birds and creatures that can live in mountains. Mostly birds though. The people are known for their fashion and amazing taste in colors. They're not that strong when it comes to war and magic, unlike Lord of Masks or Lord of Shadows, but the kingdom is supported by many. Many of the people don't see a reason for war either, why fight when all the other kingdoms love them and their lines of clothing?
Lord of Flies and Lord of Emptiness:
♡ ┊ The kingdom of sun and moon, the empire of light and dark. Where the skies are truly a sight and miracles happen. The kingdom is huge enough that it has been divided to two sides: The Sun, The Moon. This kingdom attracts many tourists, because sun and moon co-exist, they see each other everyday and even if they move, they're still together in the sky (which makes a very beautiful sight).
♡ ┊ Much like the kingdom itself, the people also have two sides. But that doesn't make them 'bad'. They have very delicious food and galaxy themed art. Things you can never find in other places of the world. There many accurate fortune tellers there and people who can read stars for multiple purposes, not just finding their way. The weather depends on where you are, the part dedicated to Lord of Flies? Pretty warm. Mind you, flies do exist there, and they adore the temperature. The part dedicated to Lord of Emptiness? You might need a blanket or too, but don't worry, it's not as cold of Lord of Corruption's domain.
These have been done for RP purposes. Shoot a message if you'd like to rp <;3 what should the next part be? wedding traditions? souvenirs?
[Part 1]
#♡ ┊ tsl rants by pk#obey me#obey me shall we date#nightbringer#obey me nightbringer#shall we date#lucifer obey me#obey me lucifer#obmswd#mammon obey me#obey me mammon#obey me belphegor#obey me satan#obey me diavolo#obey me brothers#obey me levi#obey me asmo#obey me headcanons#om! hcs#obey me belphie#obey me beelzebub#obey me asmodeus#obey me solomon#obey me barbatos#obey me simeon#obey me luke#tsl#obey me tsl#the tale of seven lords
77 notes
·
View notes
Text
The vae have plagued the land of Kasht for as long as man could remember. They once dominated the world before being chased away into the darkest recesses of the night but never truly gone, always hunting for the next human to become their meal. After eons of lurking the shadows the vae have become bold again, feeding more frequently and spreading their domain.
But that's where you come in. You, the chosen heir of light itself, the one who holds the power of the sun in their veins. The one prophesied to lead a group of heroes like yourself to save not only your people, but all of humanity.
A bronze age inspired fantasy setting, don't expect a one-one real world counterpart/historical accuracy.
Customize your heir: appearance, gender, pronouns, name, personality
Build relationships with your fellow companions on your way to save humanity
Choose how you feel about being thrust into herodom
Combat the Vae, beings who that take inspiration from vampires and fae. Or don't.
Decide how you ultimately traverse saving the world. Will you follow the prophecy or find another path?
More to be determined
MC [That's you]
You grew up in the desert kingdom of Akma under Mother Azira's House. Like many others who'd lost their parents you were trained to be a skilled member of society, you had many options but none so illustrious as being a god's chosen heir. Yet life is full of surprises.
The Bosom Buddy (she/her, trans woman)
You've known Periphae, or Peri as most call her, for much of your life. She is your best friend and closest companion. Working under the Fragrant Lotus, a well renowned brothel under Matriarch Azira's control, she has never been much of a fighter. She's a playful gossip who does a horrid job at hiding her anxiety, its hard to accept that she's chosen to venture out with you of her own will.
The Shield (she/he/they, genderfluid)
Eurus is a warrior from the eastern region of Saeyah who's been trained to fight along side the heir of light all their life. They've anticipated the day where they could fight alongside you, as is their destiny according to the prophecy. They have a carefree 'go with the flow' attitude about most things. Your safety and this quest for the world are not one of those.
The Chosen One The Guide (they/them, nonbinary)
Amani was a priestess that once held the title of the heir of light, they were thought to be the one to inherit the mark of the sun until the Day of Blessings came and it went to you. Now their years of training are being used to help you save all of humanity. A fact that makes them quiet bitter towards you, but Eurus says Amani is haughty and harsh with everyone.
The Mountain (she/her, cis woman)
Valeska is a warrior from the gloom infested lands of the Dhaga, a place full of various nomadic clans. She is quiet quiet skilled with stone magic, a trait they treat with complete disregard and prefers to rely on raw physical strength. You aren't sure if she's cocky or apathetic, but the claims her muscle power is far more useful that her prodigal magical talent. All the same she offers you a helping hand on your quest despite not caring much for the cause.
The Crowned Rose (he/him, transman)
Nymphie is one of the Seven Vae Lords, the one most beloved by the Vae Queen no less. He dutifully enacts his mistress' will though despite his loyalty he does not appear personally invested in her grand plans. Whatever they may be, he has no intention of telling you them. At best he appears amused by you and your compatriots attempts to fight back against the vae, you are no threat in his eyes so he takes joy in partaking in a game of cat and mouse with you all. But no amount of playful gestures can hide the danger they pose to your group.
The Rose's Thorn (he/him, )
Mars is also a Vae Lord in his own right, though rather than pledging loyalties to the Queen he bows to Nymphie and Nymphie alone. He serves as Nymphie's right hand without complaint despite being their polar opposite. For whatever reason he has orders to keep an eye on your group, you don't know if his presence is constant as he is only seen if he wishes to be. Luckily he rarely interferes with your plans, content to observe. He is quiet and blunt with his words, and though he does not appear to have ill intent it is hard to ignore the occasional hungry looks he send your way.
[More to come]
120 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sunshine Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen reader: part 3
Aemond grew bitter towards his bastard nephews, they had dragons whilst he and his twin pure Targaryens were left without. Y/n did not let her pain change her, instead she used it to manipulate those around her. A small tear and she was swiped off her feet and given anything to see her smile again, Lords and Ladies across westeros sending gifts, searching for anything to appease the young girl. When the news of their cousin Laena passing passed through the castle Aemond was quick to speak to his sister of the unclaimed dragon. Y/n glowed as he spoke of the two claiming Vhagar and riding together, pure joy emanated from the young girl.
In dragonstone Aemond was quick to dismiss the funeral, he was not here to play niceties with his bastard nephews, he was here to take what was rightfully his. He could only imagine the joy Y/n would have as she rode a dragon, a dragon which Aemond had claimed for her. Y/n loved the thought of sharing a dragon with Aemond but she felt a pull to dragonmont. Sneaking out she followed her heart, she did not need a guide to her destination neither did Aemond as he left in hopes to claim Vhagar. The twins on the same path without knowing, Y/n walked along a dark path, bones scattered everywhere as she neared the eastern side did she finally see a dragon. A giant beast black as coal and piercing green eyes turned to the young princess, her eyes widening as they stared into each others souls. She did not know the dragons name but without fear she stepped forward, the cannibal opening it's jaw as he lowered himself closer to the glowing princess.
"Beautiful, you are truly godly." She spoke in high valerian, in pure awe at the dragon in front of her, walking closer as the dragon growled lowly. She did not stop, putting her hand out towards his sharp teeth, a wide grin on her face as her heart called to the dragon. The cannibal allowed the small girl to touch his nostrils, her hands petting him gently before she placed her head against his scales.
"I wish for you to be mine, you seem so lonely as i am without a dragon. Would you honour me so?" She stared into his eyes as she spoke, a small tear coming to hers as she saw how alone he was. She did not know he was the oldest and largest dragon nor that he had torn dragons apart as well as anyone who tried to tame him. Nothing but innocence in her eyes as she leant into him, pure love radiating from her as she kept stroking him. The cannibal soon closed his eyes, laying down and allowing the small girl to climb onto his back, with no saddle she did not know what to do but she felt it right in her heart as she held on. She felt the bond instantly, The Cannibal raising slowly before taking flight, her delightful laughter filling his ears as he took off. As she soared through the air she saw Vhagar, her brother landing her gracefully. They had both claimed dragons, she hugged herself close to her dragon. The cannibal content with his first and last ever rider as she marvelled at the skies.
Y/n landed her dragon next to Vhagar, asking him to be sweet to her brothers dragon. The two laying next to each other in the sand, his size making Vhagar look small, she was so proud of her and Aemond. Daring to pet Vhagar, the female dragon wearily allowing her, the princess might as well have bled sunshine in that moment. Y/n kissed her dragons snout before walking back to dragonstone to be greeted by loud voices, hurrying in she saw her brother his face covered in blood.
"Aemond." She screamed running to him, clutching his face as she wept, Aemond pulled her close as he whispered of the events. The whole room tensed as the princess looked around, she said nothing but held her mothers hand to calm her. She could do nothing as her mother attacked Rhaenyra, her brother hugging her as she watched in horror her family be torn in two. She did not care for what happened only that Aemond was alive and with her still.
She did not realise the significance of the nights events until many years later, but she promised her brother he was still handsome, offering to give him her eye instead. The two closer than ever as she shared with him her victory. The next morning panic flooded through dragonstone as servants reported the Cannibal laid with Vhagar on the beach with Y/n and Aemond petting the two. The story of the twins claiming the two dragons spread fast through westeros, an unstoppable duo. One taken by force and one given by love, two sides of a coin shown through the twins.
Taglist:
@smileykiddie08
@hannaeditzs
@stuckinaf4nfiction
@verybluntstoner
@moonmaiden1996
@yumiassworld
@eonnyx
@whitejuliana1204
@missusnora
@applepyesworld
@mingiholic
@crownofdecit
@destroyingdestiny
@alexisabirdie
@dudfahsn
@littlebatsimagines
@bloode-money
@moonlight-and-stars
@xcharlottemikaelsonx
@onemillionpeopleinone
@random-human02
@hi-im-fan-trash
@meilikki
@sonnensplitter
@jugheadisaweirdo
@lomllino
@celibacy-or-death
@crazylokonugget
@natashaxhellenic
@here4thefanfic
@bubblebuttwade
@disturbing-love666
@sha-aesthic
@solace-inu
@rntrsna
@jeyramarie
@apollonshootafar
@holb32
@pancakefancake
@claudiajacobs
@maeverae006
@stargaryenx
@mirandastuckinthe80s
#aemond targaryen x reader#prince aemond#aemond x reader#aemond the kinslayer#aemond one eye#aemond targaryen#house of the dragon aemond#house of targaryen#house of the dragon#rhaenyra targaryen
466 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey Mike you should drink some water today! Big font! 💧
I, Settra, the Great King, the Imperishable, Khemrikhara, The Great King of Nehekhara, King of Kings, Opener of the Way, Wielder of the Divine Flame, Punisher of Nomads, The Great Unifier, Commander of the Golden Legion, Sacred of Appearance, Bringer of Light, Father of Hawks, Builder of Cities, Protector of the Two Worlds, Keeper of the Hours, Chosen of Ptra, High Steward of the Horizon, Sailor of the Great Vitae, Sentinel of the Two Realms, The Undisputed, Begetter of the Begat, Scourge of the Faithless, Carrion-feeder, First of the Charnel Valley, Rider of the Sacred Chariot, Vanquisher of Vermin, Champion of the Death Arena, Mighty Lion of the Infinite Desert, Emperor of the Shifting Sands, He Who Holds The Sceptre, Great Hawk Of The Heavens, Arch-Sultan of Atalan, Waker of the Hierotitan, Monarch of the Sky, Majestic Emperor of the Shifting Sands, Champion of the Desert Gods, Breaker of the Ogre Clans, Builder of the Great Pyramid, Terror of the Living, Master of the Never-Ending Horizon, Master of the Necropolises, Taker of Souls, Tyrant to the Foolish, Bearer of Ptra's Holy Blade, Scion of Usirian, Scion of Nehek, The Great, Chaser of Nightmares, Keeper of the Royal Herat, Founder of the Mortuary Cult, Banisher of the Grand Hierophant, High Lord Admiral of the Deathfleets, Guardian of the Charnal Pass, Tamer of the Liche King, Unliving Jackal Lord, Dismisser of the Warrior Queen, Charioteer of the Gods, He Who Does Not Serve, Slayer off Reddittras, Scarab Purger, Favoured of Usirian, Player of the Great Game, Liberator of Life, Lord Sand, Wrangler of Scorpions, Emperor of the Dunes, Eternal Sovereign of Khemri's Legions, Seneschal of the Great Sandy Desert, Curserer of the Living, Regent of the Eastern Mountains, Warden of the Eternal Necropolis, Herald of all Heralds, Caller of the Bitter Wind, God-Tamer, Master of the Mortis River, Guardian of the Dead, Great Keeper of the Obelisks, Deacon of the Ash River, Belated of Wakers, General of the Mighty Frame, Summoner of Sandstorms, Master of all Necrotects, Prince of Dust, Tyrant of Araby, Purger of the Greenskin Breathers, Killer of the False God's Champions, Tyrant of the Gold Dunes, Golden Bone Lord, Avenger of the Dead, Carrion Master, Eternal Warden of Nehek's Lands, Breaker of Djaf's Bonds… and many, many more titles… Do not need water, I look great.
25 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
apre11
beloved universe
for2buns
Lesbian Loneliness Year 3
timetakillgod
God Killer
syntheticsax
Syntheticsax
intairnwetrust
In Tairn we trust