#reference is from lion king one and a half

[ickystyx]

parenting

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

In universe, how long d'you think does it take for someone to write Jake Berenson: The Musical? And what's everyone's reactions once it premiers?

I feel like everyone would go into the musical with no small amount of trepidation, because a) musical, and b) actual war. That said...

Act I, Scene 1: Our protagonist, Jake, comes onstage alone. He sings a song about the aching loneliness of leadership. Not only does he have to decide how to lead his friends, not only does he have no one to confide in, but now his entire family are controllers. He's worried for his parents, but feels he cannot confide that worry in anyone.

Out in the audience, Cassie reaches for Jake's hand, tears sparkling in her eyes. As soon as her hand rests on top of his, he jerks awake with a mumbled apology about how slow ballads aren't his thing. He asks Cassie what he missed. This pattern will continue for the entire rest of the show.

Act I, Scene 2: We meet our narrator, who for some reason is one of the Trekkin' Trekkies from the battle for the hork-bajir valley. His name is Angelo and he's a fictional character, but he introduces four other Trekkies, meant to be the Carpenter family, as the Geek Chorus. The play apparently considers this deeply clever.

In the audience, Tobias glances over at Ax, who holds up an ASL 84: their time left in morph. Next to them, in a not-quiet-enough whisper, Cassie is reminding Jake who the Carpenters were. Yes, she's aware they met the Carpenters before his parents were infested. No, she doesn't think the writers care. This seems to be an artistic interpretation of — Would he just watch the show?

Act I, Scene 3: The actor playing Jake calls his five friends onstage. They're all currently humans, so the Geek Chorus introduces them so that everyone will know who is who. Together, they sing a song about the hopelessness of the war, the power of friendship, and how all they have is each other.

Marco leans over to nudge Tobias. "Love the hair," he whispers, referring to show-Tobias's elaborate dark-brown coif. Tobias gives him a real smile in return, not because he likes fictional-him's hair but because he's secretly pleased that the show so clearly put effort into casting himself and Ax to look alike. Doesn't matter that they don't actually share any DNA; family is family.

Act I, Scene 4: The morphing. Oh lord, the morphing. The idea to make it a dance number—cum—costume change is kinda cool. The use of very saggy-looking cloth puppets is... less so. The fact that the Angelo and his Geek Chorus introduces The God of Tigers, The God of Gorillas, and so on is... inexplicable. Especially because The God of Andalites is just a human guy who has been painted blue. Presumably this is all to distract from the puppet show, which ranges dramatically in quality. By far the best effect is Tobias: they have the human actor fly a bird-puppet across the stage on long posts overhead, all the while staring wistfully up at it as if simultaneously inhabiting the bird and being a human watching the bird longingly from the ground. By far the worst is Rachel: she's just an elephant head that clearly has no body attached to it, poking out from behind various pieces of scenery.

In the audience, Marco is laughing so hard that he's threatening to fall out of his seat, doubled over with his fingers stuffed in his mouth. Cassie nudges Jake awake again, but in a you've got to see this kind of way. "Damn," Tobias mutters, "guess the Ellimist really really hated that production of The Lion King, huh?" Ax misses all of this, too busy staring at The God of Andalites with his mouth half-open in confusion, several mini-marshmallows falling onto his lap in the process.

Act I, Scene 5: Visser Three steals the show. In order to convey the battle for the hork-bajir valley, the cast starts to go into the big company number — the Trekkies singing about how they're going to defend their planet, the Animorphs singing about their morphs, a human dressed as a hork-bajir singing about forging a new home, the controller chorus singing about wanting more bodies — only to have the whole thing blown out of the water by the actors playing Visser Three singing overtop everyone else and drowning them out. That's right, actors: he's in his eight-headed fire-shooting morph, and each of the heads is played by a different actor as they belt out his song in unison overtop everyone else.

"Am I... cheering for Visser Three right now?" Marco whispers to Cassie, who shrugs. Jake jerks awake at the mention of Visser Three, mumbles something about how Hamilton was better, and goes back to sleep. But Marco's not the only one.

Act I, Scene 6: There's supposed to be a battle or something, and if we're supposed to be very sad when Richard Carpenter is heroically killed protecting his kids... but Visser Three is so damn awesome that the whole audience cheers every time he bites someone's head off or throws another Animorph off-stage. Eventually the battle ends just like it did in reality, with the hork-bajir flooding the valley to sweep Visser Three away, at which point everyone boos and even briefly breaks into a chant demanding Visser Three get an encore.

Tobias momentarily questions his entire existence as he enthusiastically joins in with Marco and most of the rest of the audience in chanting "Vis-ser Three! Vis-ser Three!". They're still going strong a good two minutes after the curtain fell, and there's no sign of anyone being able to go into the next scene. Jake mutters something about his having been Visser One at this point in the war, lost under the sound of Cassie joining in with the chant.

Act I, Scene 7: The curtain opens to a set piece that's clearly meant to be a giant tree, and all the Animorphs are sitting in said tree. The stage is covered in smoke from dry ice, meant to convey foam from the flood. Behind them, in a smaller tree, the surviving Trekkies huddle and drip on the floor. Tobias's human actor now cradles the hawk-puppet in his arms, preening its feathers, while everyone else perches on "branches" in poses that range from natural-looking (Marco in a gorilla costume) to extremely awkward (Ax is meant to be out of morph and... standing on a branch?). Worst of all is Rachel; the elephant head is now sitting directly on the stage, which is meant to convey that the rest of her body is underwater but instead just gives head-in-a-jar vibes. The six of them sing an uplifting rock number about the future of humanity, and the curtain falls on Act I.

After ducking into the bathroom to demorph and remorph, Tobias and Ax head for the concession stand. Marco tries and fails to get a themed cocktail for himself, but does succeed in buying a tiger brownie for Jake. Meanwhile, Cassie is attempting to summarize the entire show to Jake as he wipes drool off the side of his face.

Act II, Scene 1: One of the better songs in the show, honestly. It begins when the surviving Geek Chorus come out in front of the curtain, lay out sleeping bags, and apparently — though it can't be real because the auditorium doesn't fill with smoke — light a fire on stage. They huddle around it and sing a sad little melody about Richard Carpenter. Jake walks past them, and as he goes, first one side of the curtain then the other opens to reveal five more campfires dotted around the stage. Jake stops to speak briefly with each of the little groups, checking in, though no dialog is heard. Tobias sits at one with a blond woman who must be Loren, human for now and petting a stuffed dog. Cassie is at the next fire back with both her parents, and Marco is at far stage left with his. Rachel is sitting with Sara in her lap as Jordan and Naomi talk to her across the fire. An actor who must be playing Jara leads on a smaller costar also dressed as a hork-bajir, presumably Toby, and they set up a final fire upstage. One by one, each group around the fire joins in the song of mourning. Finally Jake stands alone downstage right, surrounded by warm glowing lights but himself alone in a circle of cold white light, as the last notes fade out.

Tobias mutters something about fire codes. Cassie wipes a tear from her eye, and then kicks Jake in the shins for whispering about how if Eva is right there on the stage, then how could that other guy be Visser Three?

Act II, Scene 2: Jake stands alone in the spotlight as the fires die behind him, and Ax comes in from stage left to join him. Together they go into a number called "The Only Child," about losing a sibling and being one's parents' only hope. During the coda, Elfangor's ghost comes onstage and sings about fatherhood and legacy... to Jake. To add insult to injury, the actor has to walk around Tobias and stand with his back to Tobias and Loren's fire in order to get to his blocking. At least Elfangor takes the time to put a hand on Ax's arm and give him a meaningful look before he exits stage right, but he has to walk around Tobias a second time to do so.

Cassie and Marco exchange a glance and a wince, before both of them look toward Tobias. Luckily he's rolling his eyes, not appearing offended. It's Ax who gets halfway to standing up before Jake puts a hand on his arm and shakes his head. In undertones, they start plotting an angry letter to the director.

Act II, Scene 3: Luckily, this is when Visser Three comes back, to uproarious approval. Now the eight actors are each playing four arms of a Lerdethak vine-beast, and in unison sing a campy rock number called "Kids These Days," about Visser Three's hatred for teenagers. In the background, the controller chorus is working to build a new yeerk pool as the Trekkies narrate about the Yeerk Empire expanding its reach on Earth.

All the Animorphs join in on the audience's cheers, and this time they do get an encore: the Visser Three actors sing a whole bunch more riffs on the final note of the song, and even do the coda again from the top, to universal acclaim.

Act II, Scene 4: The various gods of the animal spirits do a number about how the Animorphs aren't just fighting for humanity; they're fighting for Earth.

This one goes up like a lead balloon. Jake picks brownie crumbs out of his shirt, regretting that the chocolate is now keeping him from sleeping. Marco reads his program and groans loudly to learn that Visser Three doesn't have any solo numbers left. A kid is kicking the back of Tobias's seat, and he debates kicking back.

Act II, Scene 5: The Animorphs morph again, which is just as awful as the first time, and they all attack Visser Three (to general audience disapproval). In this version of events, Ax simply announces to Visser Three that they partnered with some rebel yeerks and taxxons at some point, and then throws a switch that turns off every ship in the Yeerk Empire at once. Since the Animorphs are all in the Pool ship at the time, this seems ill-advised; projections on the back wall convey everyone onboard falling to Earth.

"Why do they even have that lever?" Marco asks plaintively. No one answers him.

Act II, Scene 6: Everyone, including Elfangor's ghost and Richard Carpenter for some reason, comes back on stage for a big dance number. The Animorphs remain in morph for this scene, with Tobias's actor once again killing it as he swoops his puppet kite-like over the audience and Rachel's actor once again DOA as she half-heartedly waves one ear.

Everyone claps politely through the chorus's bow, then Elfangor's bow, then the parents' bow, then the hork-bajir's bow... and then Visser Three comes out to bow. The crowd is instantly on its feet, screaming and stomping and applauding with their hands in the air. Then people start trickling out and having side conversations during the Animorphs' bows. Tobias gets in line to have the Tobias actor autograph his playbill. "I told you we should've gone to see Assassins," Marco complains, and Cassie laughingly agrees. Jake buys another tiger brownie for the road, and gets one for Ax as well.

[alwayscorvus]

What are lions truly scared of

What are lions truly scared of

half-lion!Jing Yuan x malereader, fluff

Jing Yuan resembled a lion in many ways.

Lions stood out with their bushy mane, one that was incredibly similar to Jing Yuan's. Long, thick, messy. Extremely difficult to control.

Lions weighed around 420 pounds*. Known for their massive build. Their mass and strength allowed them to hunt and fight for their pride. Exactly as in case of Jing Yuan who had a powerful physique, which made masculinity radiate from him. By his very appearance, Jing Yuan woke awe and fear in eyes of his enemies.

Lions were "kings of the jungle". They kept watch over other animals. Just like Jing Yuan, who ruled Xianzhou Luofu thanks to his role as one of leaders.

Lions mostly didn't raise their offspring, leaving that to lionesses to do. Despite this, they always protected the youngest ones. Maybe that's why Jing Yuan often put off teaching Yanqing and preferred not to assign him difficult tasks through which he could get hurt.

Lions were known for performing outstanding hunts. Choosing right time, adjusting their attack tactics and observing their prey for a long while. When working as a team and carefully following tasks instructed to them, lionesses were able to knock down a giraffe that greatly surpassed them. Perhaps this is why Jing Yuan was such a great strategist. His skills worked well both in chess and on battlefield. Man didn't act by impulse, he thoughtfully chose his next steps. He knew that not all attacks should be responded to, and even if, it wasn't necessary to do that immediately. Sometimes it was better to wait for the right moment. Slow action and "patience" also allowed Jing Yuan to not get too much tired...

Lions became exhausted easily and run only on short distances. So you could say that Jing Yuan had in genes this laziness and dullness which he was always showing.

That's why it wasn't surprising when, during transformation of some of Luofu's residents, Jing Yuan was one of them.

Yes, at some point the nation over which Jing Yuan held custody began to change. At first Xianzhou Luofu was just an unusual and wonderful place inhabited by many different species. The most popular of them were of course Foxians, Vidyadharas and Xianzhou Natives. The last one were previously famous only for their long-living. They didn't show any animal traits in their apperance. Over the years, however, this began to change. Mutations weren't common, but despite that, in some individuals they suddenly triggered the appearance of parts unusual for human body. Tails, horns, extra ears, claws, scales, anything that just referred to animals that Natives personified.

Because of that, an already perfect image of General was enhanced by a pair of white lion ears and a long, swift tail.

However, that was not what caught your attention. Rather it was a Jing Yuan's strange behavior.

At first, you thought you only imagined it or that it was just a pure coincidence. Over time, however, you found that Jing Yuan was really avoiding you on purpose.

At Louofu celebrations, by the time you were able to push through the crowd to where Six Charioteers were standing, Jing Yuan had always managed to change his position. Leaving behind only sight of departing shadow and ruffles of his robe waving in the wind.

When you visited Divine Foresight for business matters, you could never find Jing Yuan. When you asked about him, you were told that man had left only seconds before you arrived. Or even better, that at that day he wasn't there at all. And you could have sworn that behind the closing door to one of the back rooms, you saw a long, white tail frivolously levitating in the air.

However, you got really fed up with all that when Jing Yuan sent his representatives to consultation with you instead of showing up himself.

You also like Jing Yuan belonged to long-lived species. Although you didn't reveal any additional features in your appearance. And in look were no different from an ordinary person (well, maybe not counting large build in form of broad shoulders and above-average height). But elephant blood flowed through your veins.

As a result, you and your family became famous for your divine memory. Because of which, male line of your dynasty from generation to generation served rulers as consultants and "treasurers of knowledge". Though this didn't happen often. Because your services were extremely expensive. And also because you have lived in a grudge against Six Charioteers since ancient times. Precisely, since a few centuries ago one of former rulers made a decision completely different from your suggestions. That offended your pride deeply. However, your helping still took place in special circumstances.

One could say that due to the long life span, there weren't many of your "generations". But unfortunately, because of your genes, you were the target of so-called "poachers". They were eliminating you because of highly paid commission. You were valuable, your knowledge was precious. And it posed a great threat to others. That forced you to start new generations. By holding sensitive information from many years, your grandfather and later also your father lost their lives. Only you remained. And it was you who held the duties of "treasurer of knowledge".

You did it with extreme diligence and were respected by many. That's why you decided to take advantage of it.

When stellaron crisis hit Luofu, and you were once again asked to share your knowledge by Jing Yuan's subordinates. You gave an ultimatum.

General had to personally show up.

New deals, raises, promises of extraordinary rewards couldn't bribe you.

What's more, enough was enough when, after "agreeing" to your terms, another broker appeared at the meeting instead of Jing Yuan. Explaining himself with General's "illness".

To some, your attitude could seem trivial. But you really needed to find out why the head of Xianzhou Luofu had been avoiding you like a fire for years. Was there something wrong with you? Did you offend him with something? But how were you supposed to do that if you had never even seen him in person. Exactly. You had never had the opportunity to even see Jing Yuan with your own eyes before. You only knew his appearance and character from stories, paintings and your own analysis. That additionally kept you motivated in holding on your decisions.

And that's why you left the meeting room with a bang. News about your grudge immediately reaching General.

Jing Yuan realized that he had crossed the line. And that if he really wanted to get answers for his questions, he had to meet you in person. Not hologram, not anyone else, but he himself. If you would grant him another chance at all….

Your curiosity, however, worked in his favor. A week later, Jing Yuan showed up at your residence.

You found him sitting on a mat in your office. At the sight of him you instantly froze for a second. He looked even better than they described him, though perhaps not as majestically... Did you imagine that or did he really give off a vibe of shy and lost? Hunched, he looked around the room with hesitation. Avoiding your gaze at the same time. You didn't know where the great, famous, well-respected general had gone.

You took a seat on the other side of the table. And you took a closer look at him.

Fluffy white ears lay flattened on his head, and eyes that still avoided your face were squinted. With your memory, you returned to books about lions that you had been browsing, wishing to learn more about Jing Yuan.

Similar symptoms occurred in cat family when they were scared of something. But what could a brilliant General be afraid of. Stunned, you looked around to the sides, but you didn't see any threat behind your back.

-So how can i help the famous Jing Yuan? - you asked almost amused.

-Nameless... Is there anything I should know about them regarding the history of Xianzhou Luofu? Something that could prevent success of our cooperation? Can they be trusted?

You smiled at this.

-Why don't we start with what we agreed on in the letter first? - you recalled your conversation that you held after the last insult.

Man pulled a book from behind his bask and slid it timidly towards you. You grabbed it and opened at the page pointed by bookmark which surprisingly matched the patterns on Jing Yuan's robe.

You read the subject and then next few lines.

"What are Lions scared of?"

"Lions have only a few predators to fear other than humans."

Not that.

"Lions are not really scared of elephants. But elephants are the only animals they really try to avoid. [...] Lions show elephants respect that they deserve. Lions know that they will not defeat an elephant alone, because elephants are too powerful and massive for that. "

You smiled even wider and came up with another idea.

-What would General say about changing our agreement? I wouldn't want to drain Luofu's treasury that much... You have nothing to be scared of General. Although your ears could "suffer" a bit under new rules -you suggested playfully.

Jing Yuan rapidly raised his head. For the first time you could sink into his golden eyes. Nevertheless, you were greatly distracted from this astonishing view by naughty tail, which also rose to attention and flicked in the air.

After a moment, Jing Yuan burst into laughter, and his confidence returned. He nudged his head over the table towards you.

-What are u waiting for?

You also responded to the remark with laughter and slight disbelief.

Several decades of waiting, and everything could be solved in a few seconds.

You lifted your hand up, over Jing Yuan's mane. You hesitated for a moment, but then excitedly ruffled lion's ears. Soft to the touch. Fluffy as a cloud. Pleasantly cold after traveling outside.

And those purrs... Almost cat-like purr that came out of Jing Yuan immediately right after your gentle hands began kneading his ears in not so gently way. You could hear it more often.

And what's more, you could probably even fall in love with it.

made while listening to AREZRA "Goodbye"

*~190 kg

[kokofromwattpad]

PLS I BEG YOU CAN YOU DO LIKE THE READER (F!MC IF POSSIBLE) DANCING IN A BALLROOM TO

https://youtu.be/no7DZe2JXQY?si=YcjMhFkk5TobsYRn

THIS. WITH MALLEUS AND LEONA AND IDIA ANY CHARACTER YOU LIKE

I'VE BEEN LISTENING TO IT AND I'M VERY HIGH ON THAT VID I'M CRYING BDHDHDHDVDH

BALLROOM ENDEAVORS

Featuring: Leona Kingscholar, Idia Shroud and Malleus Draconia

Plot: When he finally plucks up the courage to ask you to dance, you accept and make the night much better than it originally was

Cw:She/they prefect, unestablished romantic relationship, Leona x reader, idia x reader, mallues x reader (all separate)

A/N: I CNA FINALLT JUMP

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR:

Leona grumbled as he adjusted his bow tie, holding a flute of champagne in the other hand. Leona had asked the prefect to be his date to a royal ball that his elder brother was hosting to show off the growing prosperity of Sunset Savanna. Leona was obligated to go as he was still a royal prince and needed to make sure that his reputation was still in tact afterwards.

Leona had asked the prefect, a close friend of his, to join him at the ball so that he would at least have someone he recognized there and to make sure that his brother would stop pestering him about arranged marriages for atleast one night.

The lion beastman had insisted that the prefect should go on ahead without him and socialize a bit for a while. He watched the prefect as they conversed with a cheetah beastman noble fluidly. Leona felt a pang of pride ring through his chest at the thought that he was the one who taught them how to speak in such a way.

Slowly, Leona's brother came up from behind him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Leona whipped his head to look at him in surprise.

"I've seen the way you've been looking at them all night Leona. Why don't you go ahead and ask them to dance."

Leona grumbled at his brother's words on distaste.

"Okay, come on, listen. I'll ask the musicians to play a slow song for you, okay? So go and dance with them!" The king persisted.

Leona gave in and shoved his half empty champagne flute into his brother's hands and stomped over to where the prefect was.

When he arrived by their side, Leona gently tugged on their shoulder to make them face his way. He gave a strained smile at the prefect's company and then made up an excuse to get them away from the other man.

Gently, the lion beastman tugged them onto the dance floor and gently held her waist as the music played. Throughout the dance, the prefect would stumble, accidently step on Leona's toes and would apologise relentlessly whenever they messed up.

Once Leona felt tired enough from her blabbering, he leaned in and gave her a soft peck on her nose. He smiled light heartedly and said in a gentle tone, "Don't worry about what the other stuffy nobles have to say. You're dancing with me, so keep your attention on me."

IDIA SHROUD:

Idia stood in the far corner of the ballroom, wearing large bullets of sweat from the sheer nervousness he was currently feeling.

His date, the ever so amazing Ramshackle dorm prefect, was stood right next to him as to try and keep him company. Needless to say, he was extremely touched and grateful at her kindness.

Idia's parents were thrilled to finally meet one of their son's friends, knowing how judgemental and normie repulsed he was. So safe to say that the prefect had completely won over the boy's parents.

A song in the ballroom started, and the prefect's head was knocked up by the sound. Idia noticed this and said in a soft tone, "You can go dance if you'd like..."

The prefect looked at him and then at the floor. "Nah, it's all good. I don't want to leave and make you even more uncomfortable than you already are."

Idia looked at them for a hot second before gently grabbing their wrist and pulling them to the centre of the ballroom.

The prefect panicked, looking at their friend for answers.

"I've recently made a vr dancing simulation. It would be worth it if I had some hands on references for new levels."

That was absolute bullshit.

But the prefect smiled heartedly anyways.

MALLEUS DRACONIA:

The fae prince had invited his ramshackle friend to ball that was held to celebrate his birthday. Malleus was being swamped by other fae nobles for the majority of the night.

Once he was able to escape the herd of people following his every move (including Sebek), he was crept outside to the gardens to take a look at the gargoyles that he had come to love when he was very little.

There he was his friend sitting on a white bench with a thin, wrapped parcel in their lap. They were looking up at a gargoyle that Malleus had showed them before the party had started.

The prince sat next to them and smiled at them kindly.

"Are you not cold child of man?"

The prefect looked at him with a tired smile.

"Yeah I am. Forgot to bring my jacket."

With that, Malleus pulled his jacket off his shoulders and draped it over the prefect's shoulders. Immediately, it seemed as if she melted into the warmth.

Loud music could still be heard from inside. When a new song came on, the prefect commented on how this was their faviroute song.

Malleus immediately stood up and gently lead them a bit farther away from the bench.

"Did you know that this song narrates the love story of a troubled romance that had ended with a marriage proposal?" Malleus stated as he twirled the prefect around.

The prefect giggled a, "No I did not."

Mallues smiled at their laugh, it was definitely intoxicating.

The prefect and Malleus seemed to be in almost perfect sync. Each step Malleus would take, the prefect followed suite. Each twirl and spin they did made the two of them miss and wonder what expression they had.

By the end of the song, the prefect was out of breath from dancing for such a long time and Malleus was smiling like a love stricken teenager.

[cripplecharacters]

I have an oc who I originally designed as able bodied who had "Scar" as a nickname (her name is Scarlett). But later on, I realized something that happened to her character that would in fact give her notable scars. The "Scar" nickname and her actual scars are a coincidence both in story and meta. I'm sure that characters sometimes connect the two (in a silly inside joke between those close to her sorta way), but it's never treated as an insult, and it's not really something she's defined by. She's not evil/isolated/a victim, so I don't think that's an issue. But I want to make sure that the "Scar" nickname won't be a problem.

Hey!

It's not the end of the world, but it's not great. It is also very reminiscent of Scar from Lion King which isn't particularly helping anything here.

I'm of the opinion that it's generally weird to name characters after their disabilities, with the weirdness being a scale from "kinda weird" to "WTF", "Scar" being closer to the first. I also think that there are a bit too many characters with names/nicknames derived from their facial differences, which is something I have barely seen at all with real life people. All the half-faces, burn puns, scars, [injury]-faces, weird mutation references; it's just weird.

It also depends if it's her nickname while she also goes by her actual name, or if she's mostly/always referred to as just "Scar". If she has a buddy who makes weird nicknames for people for example, it'd be fine if they called her that since it fits, it is a weird nickname.

It's not a representation-breaking thing, but I'd rethink it. Especially if she's your only character with major scarring, especially if she's the only visibly disabled one, especially especially if she's the only disabled one, you get it.

I hope this helps,

mod Sasza

[rainintheevening]

Peter writes home from the battlefield every chance he can.

Lucy's letters are full of barely rhyming, rambling poetry, talk of stars and trees and any plants or animals he's seen. He puts in all the words that will never describe any of this, but still there is a great sky above him, and a big heart in his chest, and he hopes she will understand. She could if anyone can.

To Edmund he sends the muddy, bloody, wobbly-writing letters, the ones with rambling memories of Narnian battles and strategy, though he takes care to phrase it as 'playing in the woods', not wanting the censors to get leery. There are also many theological musings, and usually the continuation of whatever Bible verse Ed has sent in his letter. I wish you were here, and yet I am glad you are not, is a sentiment oft repeated.

Susan and Mother usually get the same letter, little stories of kindness shown or soft things appreciated. He asks them for more socks for Jackie, an extra bar of chocolate for Hamish, tells them how he's gotten his whole unit to memorize the Jabberwocky poem, and they make each other smile with it.

Dad is usually named with Susan and Mother, but sometimes he gets an extra scribble, usually a single scripture reference, or the name of a local boy now dead, and a few things Peter asks him to go tell the family.

Eustace gets the occasional missive folded in with the rest, usually sketches of aeroplanes, with which Eustace is fascinated, though they aren't very good sketches. If there's a sketch for Eustace, there is usually also a sketch for Jill, something Narnian, a sword or a forest or a castle.

Professor Kirke only gets occasional letters, usually short and to the point, but written in particularly formal language, as of a king writing to a dear advisor.

They all write to Peter.

Professor Kirke sends exerpts of whatever philosophy or theology or history books he just happens to be reading at the time he remembers to write. Sometimes it seems very random to Peter, but he loves it.

Eustace's letters are infrequent, but burst with colourful descriptions of his school life that make Peter laugh.

Dad usually just scribbles scripture references at the bottom of Mother's letters. Susan signs those too. Mother's letters are full of ordinary home life, rich with the warmth of hearthlight and fresh baking and good books and comfortable chairs and a much loved old quilt. She says what everyone is doing much more clearly, tells how the garden is coming in.

Mother and Susan are also very good at writing to the boys who don't have anyone to write to them. (Peter has a picture of his family, and everyone in Peter's unit thinks Susan is the prettiest girl in Europe, that she should be a queen, but they all watch what they say around Peter, they know how he feels about his sister's honour. But it really does bring up morale.)

Edmund doesn't usually say a lot, but he's regular, always engaging with whatever musings Peter put in his previous letter, making some of his own references to Narnia, usually to things Oreius taught them, and always concluding with a Bible verse. Half the time Ed absently addresses the missive To High King Peter, my brother... He never actually says I'll find you when I join up, I promise, it's just sort of there, between the lines.

Lucy's letters are like blue sky and fresh air and a fierce hug. Sometimes Peter can almost smell Narnia on the paper. They're not long, but she says I love you all the time, and talks of the weather and the flowers, and the girls at school who are struggling, and how she's trying to help them, and there's always a bit of poetry or a hymn that she's written, but it's actually good, compared to Peter's stuff. Courage, dearest brother, she always says. Remember the Lion, she always finishes.

Peter gets so many letters he has to start sending them back to his family for safe keeping.

[siravalondulac]

sapphire steel | chapter eight - obsession

j. snow x fem!oc

summary: jon realises he might slowly be going mad

tags: smut (masturbation, oral), stalking, canon divergence - rhaegar won the trident

word count: 4565

tag list: @sammybirdseed

masterlist | additional works masterlist

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He should not do this.

He was the prince, who would stop him?

It was wrong.

No one would know.

She would never return to him were she to discover him.

She had no choice. She was his.

Cerelle did herself a disservice, wearing her hair open each and every time she came to his chambers, for it looked far, far better whenever she braided and decorated it with nets and pins and flowers.

Everyone at court would have realised how frequently she reused dresses. He counted nine in total, eight of which she had also worn when meeting him. An intricate blue one, two red ones, three green ones, two normal blue ones, and a purple dress. Why he liked the blue ones best, he could not say.

She stayed alone, for the most part. Maybe it was her own doing, considering she did not necessarily even try to speak to anyone, yet perhaps it was the fault of the courtiers, who stared and whispered and turned away whenever she passed. He wanted to fuck Cerelle right there in front of them, and force them to watch.

He hated the gardens, especially during winter, especially when one's footsteps could easily be tracked in the powdered snow. Cerelle, seemingly, did not, considering how much time she spent out here. She read, she sewed, she sang.

It was that last thing that almost betrayed his cover.

The queen's heart is a fragile thing, cursed be who tears it apart.

Behind iron bars is where she keeps it, locked and hidden to save it from scars.

Only his touch did reach beyond, he sneaked his way in clawed himself close.

And the queen only realised once it was too late.

Clear as ice, light as snow, dangerous as the cold.

He got his hands on one of the handkerchiefs she embroidered. Frequently, he took it out of his pocket, and let his fingers run across the stitchings - a golden lion and a black wolf - as he watched her.

Sometimes, she looked over her shoulder, or stared at a wall as if she knew he were there. Then she turned around, and continued about her day.

If she talked to people - if - it was because someone approached her and struck up a conversation on their own. Cerelle never did, even if she smilingly and politely engaged with whatever strange topic was brought to her.

The courtiers treated her like an exotic animal, almost, yet she seemed blind to it. There were several moments he had almost jumped out of his hiding spot to punch a lord for touching her inappropriately, or a lady for sniggering behind her back.

Ser Jaime searched her out more often than anyone else. Certainly, he was her uncle, yet also a knight of the Kingsguard who ought to be on duty instead of spending time with a niece he had only met half a year ago.

They talked about Casterly Rock, her life there compared to his, and of their thoughts on King’s Landing and the Red Keep. She told him of the things she had discovered here, small nooks and abandoned hallways and a tree by the cliff from which one had a beautiful view of the sea.

(Jon knew most of what she was referring to, of course, having been there when she had discovered them.)

Cerelle listened intently when Ser Jaime told her of all the places in the Seven Kingdoms he had accompanied the king to, asked questions and demanded details Jon wondered how anyone could remember.

She acted so differently during these times. A smile here, a chuckle there, and then her eyes. There was a strange sparkle to them, a light glowing within that icy blue that seemed to melt the snowflakes falling around them. A part of him yearned to have her look at him this way, yet he knew she never would. And that was fine.

Completely.

Absolutely.

They talked about him.

“Do you like going there?”

“It doesn't matter.”

“Of course it does.” Ser Jaime laid a hand on her arm to stop her from walking away. “You're not a whore, you're a Lannister. Your feelings on this do matter.”

“Try telling that to grandfather.”

“If you need me to kill him, simply say the word.”

Cerelle laughed, and even across the distance, even through the trees and bushes, the sound caused a whirlwind in Jon's mind.

“Maybe wait until he is king, the poets would far prefer were you and grandfather both kingslayers.”

The certainty with which she said king sent a shiver down his back.

He couldn't be king, he- Aegon was heir, and after him his children, once he had them. Then the Dornish would ensure Rhaenys would follow in the line of succession, or her children. No one would want a bastard on the Iron Throne.

And yet… Cerelle had said it with such conviction, as if she was sure he would inherit his father's crown one day. Had she seen it in one of her dreams? Had the gods warned her of the disaster that would befall the realm, the one that would end with him in the one position he would never desire?

He couldn't be king. That would mean that both of his siblings had to die, and he would never be able to survive such a thing.

“Does he treat you well?” Ser Jaime asked.

“He treats me as well as he can.”

Jon had almost missed it, had already tried to roll up in his hideout to nap for a few hours, but when his gaze passed over them again, he saw the dagger the knight pressed into Cerelle's hands.

“Just in case.”

He tried to forget what he heard in their conversations as he listened to her songs, as he cradled the handkerchief, as he watched her sit in the snow and ice beneath her tree. Yet he was never able to.

The library provided him with fewer and fewer hiding spots after every day she had worked there - something that had to make his father very proud. Jon supposed he had to be grateful he did not stumble across mountains of books with every step he took. And at least her melodic voice, singing of impossible love and the unavoidably cold always managed to lull him to sleep.

The sept was the only place he did not dare follow her to. Every morning, he waited in front of the doors, not even attempting to listen to the happenings on the inside.

What she did there, what she begged for, did not concern him.

Tywin Lannister sometimes called her to him. It had taken Jon a while to find the correct path through the passageways to listen in to their conversations, and he still hated he could not truly see them besides some shadows passing past his hideout in the walls.

“I apologise, grandfather. I do not know-”

“That is your only purpose, you insolent child!” Something hard slammed against what he assumed to be a table. “A bastard is good for nothing else, and you are not even capable of it.”

“I am trying, I swear-”

“Try harder.”

Cloth ruffling, then a muffled sound he couldn't quite place. Maybe something falling onto a carpet.

“Look at yourself. I am not surprised why he continues to spurn you - weak, gaunt, constantly covering up. How could such a pathetic thing like you ever manage to seduce a prince?”

“I am doing everything he demands of me, just as you ordered me to. What am I supposed to do when he doesn't want to see me?”

Silence. Then the Old Lion said with a lowered voice, “I truly wonder sometimes which imbecile my daughter spread her legs for to cause something like you to come out of it. You are a shame on the Lannister name.” He continued speaking, yet it was far too quiet for Jon to be able to make out the words.

“Yes, grandfather.”

Footsteps, then a door falling shut.

Jon wondered, sometimes, which Cerelle was the real one. The emotionless shell he had met that very first night? The sarcastic and almost defiant woman she had turned into across their nights together? The scared voice that had cowered before her grandfather? Or the strange person that had smiled and laughed at her uncle's words, the one he almost hadn't recognised?

He discovered her chambers one evening.

It was bound to happen, considering how much he followed her around, yet he was still surprised at how long it had taken him.

(Likely because he either fell asleep while watching her, or returned to his chambers to get another drink.)

The singular room she lived in was small and not something he would have expected be given to the daughter of a great house, even if she was a bastard. A narrow bed, a cupboard, and a chair in front of a small table were all she had.

Should he pity her?

Cerelle hummed when she brushed her hair, each time a different tune, most of which he didn't recognise. She braided her golden curls before she went to bed, dressed in a simple white gown, and kept the window open the entire night.

He liked watching her sleep. It seemed peaceful, her mind not haunted by the kinds of phantoms he tried so desperately to drown in each new bottle of ale. If she awoke, she took a sip of water from the goblet beside her bed, and laid back down.

Her body seemed too perfect, even in the low light of the single candle she lit each morning and evening. No scars, no bruises, no arm slightly longer than the other. Yes, her chest was almost flat, and even through the small hole in the wall he could count each and every bone her skin molded around, but those were minor problems.

One night, he walked through the gardens on his own.

Why, he could not say.

Perhaps to clear his head.

Perhaps to distract himself from Cerelle.

Perhaps to lie down in the snow and freeze to death.

The darkness ought to annoy, to unsettle him, even, yet he felt calm in a way he had never before. Which was strange - the gardens were just as cold and abandoned as his chambers, the snowflakes collecting in his curls just as they did when he sat on his balcony. It should be miserable. It should make him want to jump off the cliffs.

And yet…

And yet…

He slowly started to understand why Cerelle liked it here.

A light caught his gaze. He looked over, moved closer to the tree and the sparkling beneath. And then he saw them.

Moondusts. Small, blue flowers the shape of stars, which seemed as if sprinkled with glowing stardust in the light of the moon. One of only a few plants capable of blooming during winter.

He knelt before them. Stared. Let his fingers run along the petals.

What he did then was stupid and dumb and marked him out as having gone truly mad. There needed to be one insane Targaryen every generation, he supposed.

He pressed the flowers against his chest as he ran towards his room, grabbed a vase along the way, and almost dropped it all the moment the door slammed shut behind him. Whatever was in the pot before was quickly discarded as he carefully let each moondust glide into the vase. One after the other, arranging them in a way that would hopefully look appealing.

Then he waited.

Slowly, the sun crawled across the horizon, yet even though he knew she was already awake, that she was likely already making her way towards the kitchens, he still waited. Just to be sure.

No one could see him with flowers in hand - that would surely give his reputation the rest - so he made his way through Maegor's secret tunnels. Luckily, her room was empty once he reached it.

It took him almost an hour to find the perfect spot for the vase, and even then he wasn't happy with it. The moondusts should stand in the chambers of a princess, surrounded by gold and luxury and excess, not in the dusty room of a servant with a dagger lying right next to it.

He wanted nothing more than to find her, to follow her throughout the day and see which courtiers he could develop a new hatred against, but he could not risk missing her reaction. And so he quickly crawled back into the tunnel next to her room, and waited.

Around noon, he almost fell asleep. Yet one decisive hit to his own face wiped away any sense of exhaustion he might have felt.

Then, the sun slowly started to set, and the door opened.

Jon immediately set up straighter. He pressed his eye to the hole to not miss a single emotion passing across her face.

Cerelle stood, and stared.

Slowly, she walked towards the small table, laid the books she had been carrying down upon it, and lifted her hands to float beside the blue flowers.

She did not move for a long, long time.

Then, suddenly, as if stung by a scorpion, she grabbed one of the moondusts and hurried towards the window. In the low light of the rising moon, the flower started to sparkle, and a light smile spread on her face.

And somehow, Jon did not fall unconscious from that.

Cerelle twirled the flower between her fingers, her steps turning lighter and almost happier, so to say, as she went through the usual steps to prepare herself for bed. She still smiled and looked at the moondusts as she brushed and braided her hair, as she slipped into her white nightdress, and even as she laid down to sleep.

Rhaenys had once told him that women liked to be surprised by little things - jewelry, kisses, and, yes, flowers, but he had never imagined that this would apply to Cerelle, too.

Well, at least not the impassive, cold-hearted Cerelle he had gotten to know during those first few weeks in his bed.

But this…

He could use this.

The following days, he continued to trail after her; mostly through the tunnels, yet sometimes forced to hide behind bushes and furniture. Someone else might have felt humiliated by such a thing, yet he had long grown beyond such feelings.

Especially with her.

One day, Cerelle emerged from her room wearing a thick, woolen dress, a fur lined cloak, and gloves, and he immediately knew something interesting was about to happen.

She did not dress this way when merely strolling the gardens. No, today she was headed somewhere else.

And that somewhere… were the stables.

She had mentioned she owned a horse - once, during those nights in his bed when both of them had spilled the very kinds of secrets they would have never told another. And should have not even told each other. He supposed it only made sense she had brought the animal with her, that she might have even ridden it on the way to King's Landing instead of hiding in a carriage.

One last act of freedom.

The stables provided him little cover, so he had to walk through the wide, open space between the pens as if he had always meant to be there.

He could look for his siblings’ horses, or try to find a stable hand to help distract himself from Cerelle. Perhaps what he needed to banish her from his thoughts was a proper fucking, without any feelings or emotions.

One of the stall doors further ahead stood open. Jon walked towards it, hoping to find someone to let out his frustrations on, yet the moment he entered, a horse reared up in front of him. Hastily, he stumbled backward, yet the alcoholic haze still on his mind made him quickly lose his footing and fall to the ground with such force his vision turned black for a heartbeat.

Someone said something.

Air slowly re-entered his lungs. He blinked a few times before his eyes were finally able to focus once more-

Cerelle stood above him, one hand in the silvery mane of a white horse, the other around its bridle. A thousand emotions flashed across her face, none staying long enough for Jon to discern a singular thought, yet each one sending pure terror straight to his heart. Somehow, within this singular moment they shared, she held his life within her hand.

Then something hardened in her gaze. The blue of her eyes transformed not into hatred or anger, but a thing much more real, much more dreadful.

“Make sure you don’t step on him, Starlight.” Even as she lifted her chin, she never looked away from him. “He only likes it done to others. Not to himself.”

And with that, she led her horse past his form still frozen to the ground, and out of the stables.

He laid there for gods only knew how long. He didn’t move, didn’t fall asleep, didn’t even notice when one of the stable boys fussed about him all worriedly. All he could do was stare at the ceiling above him as her words echoed in his head. As her gaze burned itself into his mind.

She had not despised his presence. She had also not been apologetic for what her horse had done. She had not screamed at him for following her. She had also not been particularly concerned about his fall. She had not enjoyed standing above him. She had also not hated it.

He stumbled through the halls of the Keep.

What did Cerelle want from him? What could be so important to her she did not fear him even when he treated her horribly? Why did she continue to return even after being hit, beated, abused? How did she not care?

He slipped into one of the hidden passageways, and leaned against the wall.

She haunted him. There was no other word for it, no other explanation for the way her spectre followed him wherever he went, no other reason for why he could be so obsessed with some whore. She had put some sort of spell on him, cursed him to fall for her, to be able to think of nothing and no one beside her.

It could not continue this way, he had to stop-

A groan slipped his lips as he palmed himself through his breeches. His cock throbbed at the mere thought of Cerelle, and yet he knew he would not be able to make it to her in time.

Perhaps he also did not want to give her the satisfaction.

Faster than should be possible in his current state, he had unlaced his pants and pushed them down just far enough to free his dick, quickly giving it a long and hard tug. A part of his mind - the part that was still concerned with how he was perceived - tried to hold in the moan in the fear someone would hear, yet the alcohol in his blood washed away any doubt. He could not concern himself with such things.

Beating himself off without any lubrication burned so terribly, yet he couldn’t stop. All that was on his mind were Cerelle’s icy blue eyes, staring down at him, assessing him with such cold indifference he had never seen in anyone. She would likely laugh at him were she to see him now - whining and groaning, with sweat running down his forehead as his fist moved up and down his hard length in desperate motions.

He could not even remember the last time he had to take care of an erection himself. Usually, he simply found a whore or a servant to ease his need, his cock needing something wet and warm to spill in. But now…

Gods, his father was right. He was truly pathetic.

His moans echoed down the tight passageway as he pressed Cerelle’s handkerchief against his mouth and inhaled what was left of her scent. Some precum was already escaping his tip and he desperately spread it around his skin, yearning, begging, pleading to cum.

The veins throbbed underneath his fingers, but he almost did not notice. His hand pressed tighter and tighter, closing around his cock, desperate to make this feeling go away, to banish those thoughts from his mind.

What if Cerelle were here? What if this were her hand on his dick? Could he convince her to be as brutal as he needed her to be? Whenever he had let her take charge, she had been so soft and slow, but the way she had looked at him in the stables… Gods, if only… If it were not about her pleasure, if the only thing she had to use were her fingers, could she torture him? Could she finally let go the way he knew she wanted to? Could she be willing to take revenge-

He moaned, loud enough to deafen even himself, as his hips surged forward and his seed spilled against the wall opposite him. His hand didn’t stop, it kept on going far beyond any sense of comfort or pleasure, only chasing the pain he knew he deserved so terribly.

His breath came in short bursts, his lungs burned, and his heart beat so quickly he feared it might rip his chest apart. And still he was so desperate - if only he knew what for.

Perhaps had he drunken less, he would have known his next move to be an indicator of his ever-growing insanity. Perhaps had he drunken more, he would not have even attempted it.

And yet nothing inside him protested as he waited in the shadows across her door, his entire body calm and ready.

He knew what he had to do.

She returned eventually, yet still he waited. Waited until he could not anymore, until he was convinced she had finished with her nightly routine. Then, he emerged.

Doubt or regret or anxiety had no place in his mind as he threw open her door only to smash it close behind him, and not even the genuine shock - and perhaps even fear, something that would have made him shout in glee a mere moon's turn ago - were able to stop him from grabbing her shoulders and throwing her down onto her bed.

“If you tell another soul of what is about to happen,” he growled, kneeling above her body, “I will feed you to the wolves.”

Besides the remnants of terror in her blue eyes and the sheer and utter confusion slowly taking its place, Cerelle gave no response. And so he knelt beside the bed, dragged her hips to its edge, pushed up her nightgown, and licked a long stripe across her cunt.

The sharp breath she took in only pushed him further, and so he quickly started sucking on her pearl.

This time she moaned.

He could count on one hand the amount of times he had gone down on a woman - whores did not expect it, and noble women were not even aware one could do it. Cerelle might belong to either of these groups, but he did not care right now.

For when he grabbed her thighs to keep her in place as he started plunging his tongue into her hole, she almost grabbed his hair. And simply knowing that he finally found something to break her made him get lost in her.

She tasted good - much better than the whore who had taught him this act when he had been four and ten. Cerelle's juices reminded him of snow and clear ice, and of some strange spice he had forgotten the name of. He could not stop even were someone trying to force him to - she was far too addicting.

His tongue wandered upwards again to give small and sparse licks to her pearl. Mostly to allow himself to relax his jaw, yet when she suddenly mewled and her hips started bucking forward, he could do little but smile against her skin.

He laid kisses onto her cunt, then trailed his lips along her thigh. Her skin was so beautifully soft underneath him, but that had to wait for another time, because gods, it had barely been a moment and he already missed her taste.

She seemed to agree when a careful hand found purchase in his curls, and slowly started dragging him towards her core again. He decided to oblige her - just this one time.

Small trickles of her juices spilled out of her every time the flat of his tongue pressed against her pearl, or when his lips traced the edges of her hole, but he did not allow any of it to fall onto the bed or the floor below. He drank up every last drop of her, as if it were the only thing keeping him alive.

Her legs tightened around his head, pressing his face closer to her core. A moan almost slipped past his lips. To suppress it, he hastily let his teeth graze across Cerelle's pearl-

“J-Jon.”

The word was barely above a whisper, and had she not gripped his curls so tightly the pain returned him to reality for a moment, he might have missed it.

He bit down on her bud, and she moaned the loudest he had ever heard from her.

This had done something to him, cursed him, perhaps, for he was not capable of rational thought afterwards. His body acted all on its own, plunging his tongue back into her hole and fucking her with it as tightly and as fiercly as he could. The pain of straining his jaw like this did not even reach his brain anymore.

He chased her release, chased whatever feeling this act brought with it. She became all he was, all he desired, all he despaired to own. Her taste permeated his mouth, her scent burying its claws into his mind until he almost chanted her name. All he had left to want was her cum.

As if she had heard his wish, her nails suddenly cut across his scalp and her walls tightened around his tongue. He lapped up everything flooding out of her, swallowing so quickly he almost choked on it. She trembled in his arms, yet he held her tightly, not allowing her to escape his grasp, keeping her close, keeping her with him.

Gods, what had he done?

The imprints his fingers had left on her thighs would surely bruise. He quickly wiped what was left of her cum and his spit off his face, swearing to burn the shirt as soon as he had returned to his rooms.

Yet when he jumped up, ready to run, a soft hand laid itself on his.

And despite knowing better, he met her gaze.

A blue as bright as the full moon shining in through the window, as deep as the seas at the edge of the world, as cursed as the lands of the high north.

She stared at him. Then-

“Thank you for the flowers.”

He almost fell to his knees before her.

“How-”

Cerelle smiled, something melancholic playing across her lips. “You're the only one who would do something like that for me.”

A beat passed.

“Tomorrow. Same time.”

Then he fled.

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author's note: telling you now so that you won't be caught off-guard later on, but there is a chance this fic will include pregnancy. it is not one hundred percent certain yet, and i am still in the midst of plotting everything out, but i am slowly exploring the possibilities of that. if it happens, however, it will be in the very, very late stages of the story, so still probably around 20 chapters to go, and after it happens the max amount of chapters left will probably be five or so. but if you completely hate this idea, tell me now.

(consider however - dad!jon)

[talonabraxas]

“Om Namo Narayanaya” Cosmic Vishnu Talon Abraxas Lord Vishnu God Vishnu is a manifestation of the eternal and endless Parabrahmn. He is the prime mover that powers the objective world. He is the guardian that sustains this universe. God Vishnu is the substrate of all things. He is the origin of the tiniest atoms and the mightiest galaxies.

His abode lies in Kshirsagar, a timeless place far beyond the mortal world, where He likes to rest on his magnificent lotus throne. He walks with Devi Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth and good fortune.

Significance and Role: Vishnu is one of the Trimurtis; and the one most involved in the day-to-day affairs of this world. Because of His unbounded power, He never descends to the mortal world as himself. His will, however, still shapes the events, both on the granular and the cosmic scales. He takes countless avatars throughout history for this purpose. When the need arises, He appears as a mortal, to tip the scales of balance between the good and the evil.

God Vishnu is generally represented either seated or standing, on a bed of lotus, floating in the cosmic ocean of milk, the Kshirsagar. The thousand hoods of the Sheshanaga, the king of all serpents and the primal snake, form a protective parasol over the head of God Vishnu.

It’s a long-held tradition to represent Vishnu with light blue skin and four arms.

Avatars of Vishnu: Matsya, the fish, was the first avatar of Vishnu. In this form, he guided Manu during the great deluge. Kurma, the turtle, was the second and Varaha, the boar, was the third. The fourth avatar of Vishnu is Narasimha, the half-man half-lion being, that broke out of existence from within the pillars of the dungeons where Hiranyakashipu was torturing his son, Vishnu-bhakta Prahlada.

The fifth avatar was Vaman, the dwarf Brahman, who went to ask for alms from the great Asura king Bali (also referred to as Mahabali, or Maveli). Next are Parashurama, Rama, and Krishna. The ninth avatar of Vishnu depends on the tradition you choose to follow. Some people believe it to be Balarama, the son of Krishna’s foster parents, others say it’s Gautama the Buddha.

Kalki is the future avatar, slated to appear at the fag end of Kaliyuga, for the final battle between the good and the evil.

Benefits of Worshipping Him: God Vishnu is worshipped in thousands of names. Vishnu Sahasranama is a list of over a thousand names of God Vishnu. Each of these revered names describe a distinct aspect of the ultimate reality.

Boons from God Vishnu, while benefiting the devotee, also has a way of doing good for the world at large. Vishnu not only grants you what you ask for but what you really need. Being a Parabrahmn, God Vishnu can grant his devotees, true bliss and knowledge, when sought appropriately. If deemed worthy, a touch of Vishnu can provide a candidate, instant enlightenment, or the moksha. Mukti from Samsara Varta and vicious cycle of births and deaths.

God Vishnu is an object of reverence for gods and mortals alike. His avatars were heroic personalities, born to correct the wrongs of the world, and to provide courage and inspiration to the denizens of Mrityu-Loka, or the mortal Earth.

His Powers: God Vishnu is omnipotent. He can travel instantly to anywhere in any direction. He can see anything he turns his eyes towards. Nothing is hidden from him. He makes the world run. Vatam, or the movement of air, is the most expressive form of his influence. Through the breaths of life that mortals take, the Vatam enters their bodies, subtly changing their hearts and minds. He is the original magician and trickster. No one can grasp his true intentions unless he intends them to.

His Vehicle: Vishnu rides the mighty eagle, the Garuda. The Garuda is special because its original form is not part of this Brahmand. Similar to his master, Garuda also has taken many avatars in the lower worlds. One of them was Vainateya (son of Vinata) whose life was riddled with countless tales of valor, grit, and wisdom. Garuda embodies the wisdom of the Vedas themselves. It’s also a lesser-known fact that Eagles always play crucial cameos in all of God Vishnu’s incarnations in the lower worlds.

In his benevolent depiction, God Vishnu is represented sleeping on the coils of Sheshanaga, the primal thousand-headed serpent, who like the Garuda exists apart from this Brahmand or the universe. Shesha is considered both a servant and a manifestation of Vishnu and has descended to the Prithvi-Loka as Lakshamana in the Ramayana era, Balarama during the Mahabharata era, and Ramanujacharya, the proponent of Vishishtadvaita School of Vedanta, during the Kaliyuga.

Weapons and Artifacts: Vishnu wields many weapons. Chief among them is the Sudarshana Chakra, the deadly discus of death, swirling around his forefinger. Sudarshana Chakra, being an invincible weapon, is used rarely. There are zero, five, eight, and sixteen weapon depictions of Vishnu in some of his popular representations like Narsimha, Mahavishnu, Ashtabhuja, and Shodasayudha.

Vishnu is the bearer of the conch of divine knowledge, the Panchajanya. Vishnu and his avatars are known to blow the conch shell to herald both good times and wars.

Vishnu, in his four-armed representation, is shown holding a mace and a lotus, apart from the chakra and the conch. The mace is named Kaumodaki and is a mark of authority. Padma, the lotus symbolizes purity and transcendence.

In some of his less common representations, Vishnu is sometimes also represented as wielding the celestial bow Sharanga or the Nandaka sword. The Nandaka sword is believed to be a sentient weapon with the ability to descend to the lower Lokas as avatars in service of its master, Vishnu.

In the Vaishnavite traditions, it is held that it was God Vishnu who created Brahma and taught him about Vedas. It is the knowledge of Vedas that allowed God Brahma to create the universe and its myriad aspects. While Brahma may be the architect, it’s Vishnu who was the ultimate supplier of the building blocks.

[shadowsageingempress]

Tierlist of the Great Sea costumes from Hyrule Warriors Legends.

I plan on doing more for the other costumes from the rest of the Adventure Mode maps.

(Costumes and explanations below the cut. There's a lot to go over, so it'll be long)

They probably couldn't make Warriors' costume based on Toon Link because it would likely be too similar to the Skyloft outfit, so they went with the crayfish pajamas. And I gotta say, I really like it. The blue shirt, white scarf, orange pants and gray boots go really well together.

I don't know why they made Impa wear pink. Maybe they were trying to reference the King of Red Lions? I'm not sure. But I do think it works pretty well for her.

I only just realized that Sheik's costume is colored that way as a reference to Tetra. That makes me like it a bit more. These colors are very striking, but they look good on her in my opinion.

Lana's costume is apparently based off the koroks, which I don't know if it matches up well with her. But the outfit looks really nice. My only complaint is that I don't know if the green hair fits her, so I've deducted points for that. Otherwise, she looks pretty cute and festive.

Of course, they gave Valor the princess dress that Tetra wears for the latter half of the game. The color of the dress is fine, but the dull armor and too bright hair kind of ruin it for me. Also, my partner is PISSED that this costume isn't based on Tetra. I think that would look substantially cooler, even if Sheik's costume would make it redundant.

I don't know who decided to make Ganondorf's costume fuck so goddamn much, but I am so glad they did! Everything about this Phantom Ganon costume is incredible. It kind of gives me Metroid Prime vibes, which is a very good thing.

Darunia's Phantom Hourglass goron costume isn't too big of a change, especially when compared to the masterpiece that was Ganondorf's. I don't really care for the brown spikes, but the stomach tattoo looks pretty cool.

The Laruto costume that Ruto has is very striking, and I think it works very well. Between the color combination and the character reference, I like it quite a bit.

I'm not sure why they decided to make Agitha a goth with this costume, but I think it suits her. Unfortunately, the way her face paint looks kind of lessens my fondness for it. But I definitely don't hate it.

Midna is already my favorite character in this game, so I was probably going to like whatever costume she had. But this Floormaster-inspired look is incredible! The changes are pretty slight, but the pink markings and the darker color of the Fused Shadow adds so much to what was already peak character design. In fact, she probably could have been on the top of S Tier if they'd leaned a bit more into it.

I don't know if Zant's costume is based on Gohdan or Jabun. Neither of those options really fit him, in fact they're kind of the opposite, and it may seem a bit weird to give him such bright colors. However, I actually like how he looks in this costume, even if it does look a bit more regal than he deserves.

Given that Fi's design was partially based on the Fairy Queen, this costume was only natural. And I'd describe it in the same way. This coloration is perfect for Fi, and the purple ribbon-markings down her legs are a nice touch.

Kalle Demos is one of my favorite Zelda bosses from a strictly aesthetic view. So it only makes sense that they were the base for one as, shall we say, colorful as Ghirahim. I love the gradients on his suit and cape, and I only recently noticed the green gem on his belt.

Like with Agitha, I don't really get the reference in Cia's costume. But I will not deny that she looks really good in that dark red, especially with the sunset colors of her shoulder cape. I do think that her hatless outfit is the best looking of the three, though.

Volga's costume is another with a subtle change. But like Midna's, I think that this one looks really good. The colors look good, and the reference to Valoo is quite fitting.

Unfortunately, the same cannot be said about Wizzro. I think his costume is based off of Jalhalla, which could have worked. But I really don't like the brown.

I'm already conflicted about how I feel about the design of Midna's true form, or 'Twili Midna' as she's called in Hyrule Warriors (I don't get why), and this costume only adds to it. I get that it’s based on Cassiopeia, but I do not appreciate the reference. And while I don't hate the color combination they used, I don't think it works with her. It's really a shame.

Also, why did they change the color of her skin here?

I have a lot of questions about Young Link's costume. What is the costume supposed to be? Why is he purple? Why does he have red hair? I don't hate this costume, but it doesn't make much sense to me.

This may be surprising, but I actually kind of like how Tingle looks in this costume. The gray and blue work well together, and I like the reference to Ankel or Knuckel. It's good.

Given what costume they gave to Warriors, I think it makes sense that Linkle's is based off of Aryll's dress. Not only do the colors work, but I like the little flower designs on the tunic. It's adorable.

Oh, Hell yes! I love Skull kid's costume. Not only do the white and purple go well together, but they look perfect when put with the colorful Majora's mask. I think it's also based on the poes, which also works. I can't think of anything I would improve with this one.

Another Link, another set of crayfish pajamas. I don't know why he has a belt, but it doesn't take too much away from the appeal. It's just a solid design. Although, if they did this one twice, then maybe they could have made Valor's costume look more like Tetra

Speaking of Tetra, her costume is also pretty cool. I think it's cool how the colors of her jacket and bandana are swapped. My only complaint is that I don't really care for the striped shirt. But I guess it helps to get the reference to Niko across. I like this one, even if my partner doesn't get why she needs a Great Sea costume

Finally, we have King Daphnes. His costume is based on Oshus’s disguised form, which is rather fitting. The bright colors are very striking and mesh decently well together. It actually kind of reminds me of a movie I saw when I was a kid.

[chirp-a-chirp]

Flickering Light

Fandom: Ikemen Prince • Character Pairing: Leon Dompteur X OC (OC Named Carla) • Other Characters: Gilbert Von Obsidian, Chevalier Michel • Tags: Established Relationship; Angst; Hurt and Comfort; Angst and Feels; Memory Flashbacks (if stories featuring physical fights/abuse trigger you, don’t read); PTSD; references of slavery and refugees; Leon route spoilers • Word Count: ~2950

Synopsis: The Sunshine prince battles darkness in Obsidian with the help of his fiancé Carla. A crumbling tower triggers childhood flashbacks for Leon he’s tried to forget.

Alternate Synopsis: With the amount of trauma associated with Leon’s childhood, coupled with an inability to discuss it out loud due to circumstance and *insert hero archetype tendencies to not easily admit weakness*, I’m convinced Leon would have some significant PTSD. And memories he’s suppressed. This is a story about how he might deal with that with a loved one.

Want to learn more about Carla and Leon? Check out these stores: Seeker and Simmer

Folks Who (Might?) Appreciate This Story: @reborn-elven-spirit @candied-boys @wistfulwanderingone @x-daedalus-x @ikeprinces-stuff @violettduchess @aide-falls @animehusbandharem @the-bird-and-the-flute @sh0jun @5mary5 @queengiuliettafirstlady @sonicsquid3000 @ikemenlibrary @eventinelysplayground @lorei-writes @dear-sciaphilia

…

“A rather bold request. I’d expect nothing less from his lioness.”  

Leon’s arm wrapped protectively around Carla at Gilbert’s needling. She and Leon, along with Yves and King Chevalier, were in an audience room within the Obsidian Castle, serving in Rholodite’s delegation finalizing a cooperative agreement with the nation of soldiers and steel. Carla stared unblinkingly back at the world-wide disaster. “Not really. Rhodolite is about to enter a peace agreement with Obsidian. That agreement is with the country, not just you.”

“But I am Obsidian.” Gilbert tapped his ebony cane on the floor to emphasize his point. “And so are you, little cub. You’re as much Obsidian as the half-mast mongrel there.” Gilbert did not bother to contain his disdain of Yves, whose cheeks flushed irritably. 

“Hey, leave my fiancé’s mother and Yves out of this. Your conversation is with me.”  Leon shot a challenging glance at Gilbert. “And by the way, it’s Carla. My fiancé’s name is Carla. Not little cub.”  

“Ah, so Rhodolite’s lion marks his territory.” The corner of Gilbert’s mouth quirked in amusement. “No need to roar at me.” 

“I can’t really help it. She’s like the sun that I stand beneath.” Leon asserted with pride, the tension in the room lifting temporarily as he looked fondly at Carla. He turned back to Gilbert, his voice warm but with a firm edge. “So, of course I’m gonna have an opinion on how you speak with her.”

“She’d have to stand on a pretty large chair to stand beneath her. Heehee.” Yves bristled at Gilbert’s words. Carla squeezed Leon’s hand reassuringly, refusing to appear ruffled.

“Our agreement allows Rhodolite to visit medical and military facilities. I don’t see how Leon and I touring your southern regions contradicts that agreement.” Carla was taking a risk in asking, but another opportunity to freely explore Obsidian—including areas near the underground network she led for refugees escaping into Rhodolite—would not happen again soon.  

“Access goes through me. Paths to freedom are available because I allow them to be. Including those near the border.” A crimson eye narrowed slightly. “Things can always be worse. Networks…vanish.” Gilbert grinned, as if he hadn’t just hinted at knowing Carla’s secret.   

Who does Rhodolite belong to—the people that live there, those that wish to live there, or both?  That one question from Carla before they became a couple expanded Leon’s perspective. And without kingly trappings ensnaring him, Leon felt emboldened to lean into that perspective. Especially through the underground network he now helped Carla maintain. The fact that Chevalier, who sat at a nearby table surrounded by paperwork, had not interrupted thus far gave tacit leeway for Leon to continue. “The agreement is between our peoples. Carla and I should get to know your people. Including those outside the Castle. We can’t exactly do that cooped up here.” 

“And what is more important? Me or the people?” 

“The people.” Carla and Leon spoke in unison.   

“A pair as pure as ever. I just might puke.” Gilbert smirked. “A pity you wear black Prince Leon. White suits you and the little cub—ahem, I mean Lady Carla—more. Certainly, more than him.” Gilbert inclined his head towards Chevalier. “I see why you two gravitate towards one another.”

“We are like candles, each lighting the other.” Carla’s voice softened for the first time since talking with Gilbert. Leon’s hand curled towards her waist, pulling her close. “You’re pretty amazing yourself,” Leon whispered.     

“Ridiculous.” A deep sigh penetrated the air. “Can we get on with negotiations?” Chevalier lifted his eyes from the stack of papers.      

“Your beastly king censures you.” Gilbert sneered, tossing a rolled-up piece of parchment in Leon’s direction. “Here’s the map of our southern lands. And passes granting permission to travel there. I’m sure you’re both eager to get going.”

“Just like that?” Leon lifted an eyebrow, catching the parchment. 

“I have more fun things to play with here.” Gilbert gestured to Chevalier and Yves in poorly concealed amusement. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly as he offered a final comment to Leon. “But remember this: Obsidian is a land known for darkness—even the brightest candles can burn out from what they see.” 

…

A week had passed since Carla and Leon’s meeting with Prince Gilbert. They were well-beyond the neat and orderly confines of the capital. Towns and villages were scattered across the increasingly barren landscape, with poorly maintained roads connecting them. 

The pair traveled by foot on a dusty trail, a smattering of gnarled trees dotting one side of the trail. The path meandered over mostly open land, littered with dead brush and dry grasses matted down from perpetual wind. Carla opened the map as they trekked along, head buried in the folds of paper. With a sudden THUMP, Carla found herself walking straight into the broad back of Leon. 

“Oomph!” Carla rubbed her nose and took a step back. She folded the map, placing it in her travel pack. “You OK?” 

Leon stood in the middle of the trail, a solemn gravity emanating from him. His expression was faraway and dark. 

“Is anyone there?”

A tiny hand reached towards the sky. Blistered fingers grasped at the emptiness around him before curling into his dirty palm. His hand fell to his side, brushing against the immoveable boulder he was tasked to transport to the Lord’s tower. The boy’s back flinched in anticipation of the abuse his handler would reap for not moving the rock in time.    

“No,” the boy murmured. “Like that’s gonna happen.” A part of him wanted to scream, but why bother. 

The boy’s world tumbled into darkness. He would always be lost. Trapped. Alone. A piercing voice broke his train of thought, causing him to whip his head around.

“Leon?!”

Warm fingers grasped Leon’s hand, squeezing tightly. The faded blur of childhood memory scattered as Carla’s fingers twined with his, anchoring him to the present. The heavy, bleaker emotions associated with the memory lingered still—clear, distinct, and real.   

Carla’s eyes followed Leon as he stared intensely at the horizon. In the distance stood a dilapidated tower, crumbling with age and decay. Several sections of the tower were missing, sooty stones tossed about the ground. 

“That tower. I’ve…I’ve been there before.” Leon’s voice was quiet, barely a whisper that faded into the wind.  

Carla’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. They were in a part of Obsidian neither had explored previously in their rescue missions. Most Rhodolite royalty had not been in Obsidian for non-war or espionage related activities for years. There was no way in which Leon could have been near this place before, unless…

Unless as a child. A slave. Carla’s eyes widened, comprehension dawning in rapid alarm. Leon’s jaw clenched, tightly ticking in an attempt to swallow the emotions burning inside. She turned her body, placing herself in front of Leon as if she could block the barrage of horrendous thoughts assaulting him.  

“Leon? Leon!”

He did not hear her. Leon’s body stiffened, his free hand clinching the hem of his traveling cloak to the point that his knuckles turned white. The little boy in rags reaching towards the sky was a memory Leon’s heart refused to let go. It was an incomplete memory—one that had battered him inside for years even as he tried to shut it out. But with the tower in sight, Leon now recalled more. His eyes were distant, as if watching a scene only visible to him.  

“BOY!”

His handler came rushing from the work site, face ruddy, shaking with fury. The workman did not call him by name. A name implied worth and meaning. The boy had none. The boy tried to fix an impassive mask on his features. 

“I’m almost done. See? See!” The boy barely suppressed the rising warble in his voice. 

Don’t show fear. Don’t show weakness. Don’t feel it. Don’t. Don’t.  

The boy pushed with all his might against the boulder, his shoulders and back scraping painfully against hardened jagged edges. The rock, as if mocking him, moved a scant few inches forward before lurching back to its original spot.  

“I see.” His handler rasped, eyes gleaming. “I see a need for motivation.” A massive fist came barreling from the sky. 

Don’t cry out. That’ll make things worse. So, so much worse.     

The boy crouched in a ball, hands covering his face in a feeble attempt to block the blow.

“Leon! Talk to me. Please.”

Carla’s voice was distant, echoing in the far reaches of Leon’s mind. Leon was crouched up against a tree, one of his hands gripping the roots of his hair. Where was he? How did he get here? He shrank into a tighter coil, bracing against an invisible threat. Leon’s golden eyes were dilated, nearly replaced with orbs of black.

“We walked away from the tower. You’re on the outskirts of a nearby forest. You’re safe.” With difficulty, Carla got Leon to a sitting position on the ground, his back leaning against the tree. His shoulders remained hunched, as if trying to make himself a smaller target.   

This…this was not her Leon. Present Leon Carla corrected to herself. The charismatic hero with a ready smile carried darkness that dwelled deep in his mind. She had seen similar scenes play out before with others she had rescued from Obsidian. The most innocuous objects—teapots, riding crops, a lady’s red hat—could induce terror, pull people into harrowing pasts. Carla mentally added crumbling towers to clear blue skies, raw hide whips, and the smell of pine bark as triggers for Leon. 

Carla lowered herself so that she straddled Leon’s lap, her eyes the same level as his. Carla’s hands framed both sides of his face, stilling his movements so that all Leon saw was her. Leon blinked repeatedly, his shallow breathing eventually slowing, his glazed stare re-centering towards his beloved.   

“Carla…”

Her name fell from his lips, half despair, half hope. Not wanting to sink deeper into darkness, Leon reached out and crushed Carla to him. He wanted to drown in her, soak into her being. His hands grasped at her curves, seeking comfort and safety.   

Trauma. It was more visible to Carla than usual. Leon claimed he felt nothing when he reflected on his pre-palace childhood. But Carla had never truly believed he was as numb to those experiences as he acted. His eyes had always clouded over, shadows flickering, with each person she and he helped through their underground network. Especially children. The mightier the hero, the greater the fall. Carla’s eyes watered as she sniffled loudly. Leon stopped his movements, his eyes widening at her expression. 

“Leon…” She pressed her lips against his shoulder, caressing a scar so faded it was nearly invisible. Her hands grazed the contours of his upper back, fingers tracing muscles previously lanced with marks of a whip. “I’m here sweetheart.” 

Emotions beyond language’s ability to express them filled Leon as he clung to her. Carla could feel the thrum of Leon’s pulse against her skin, her lips connected to him in an act as spiritual as it was physical. Her presence was life giving—to the prince he was now and the boy he was then. Carla sighed softly and leaned slightly back. She wrapped her fingers through Leon’s wind-blown locks, attempting to coax him. “Do you want to talk?”

“Of course. It’s you.” 

There was sincerity in Leon’s words. “Don’t worry about me. I was just thinking earlier. That’s all.” His voice was casual, nearly dismissive. Dismissive of himself and the need to unburden his mind. 

“I’m your fiancé. It’s my job to worry about you. You don’t do it enough yourself.” 

The rebuttal that flitted to Leon’s lips vanished under the directness of her gaze. His eyes wavered with emotion. “I’m sorr—”

“If you say I’m sorry for the gift of knowing you—ALL of you���I’m going to have words.” Carla’s vivid blue eyes pierced straight into his soul. A wounded soul that did not know whether it was safe to reveal itself yet. “Your heart cries out even if your eyes don’t.”

Don’t cry out. It’ll be over soon.

The boy uttered not a sound, even as clinched fists and hardened boots collided against his arms and aching ribs. His handler had done this before. He knew it would happen again.

Nothing. He willed himself to feel nothing.      

“You hold back. Let it out.” Leon flinched reflexively as fingers grazed his ribs. But these touches were light, soothing, did not batter and bash. They lingered on him, as if trying to lance away the pain he held onto.  

Pain. He learned to live with it. Numbness and resilience intersecting into a blur. A blur that had him drowning on dry land. But now he sought air.

Leon let out a shaky breath. “I…I was here.” Another breath. “I looked at the sky. I couldn’t move a rock.” Another breath. “And then…fists came down.” 

Love—an emotion so sweet yet fragile. Something to protect and be protective over. Driven by the force of that emotion, Carla threw her arms around Leon, cradling his head to her as he shook uncontrollably. 

He felt everything. Everything he had suppressed most of his life. Words tumbled out of him, nightmarish memories crowding his mind as rapid fire as fists from the sky. 

“Please. Please. PLEASE. STOP!”

He screamed—for all the times he had not. 

“STOP!” Leon screamed repeatedly into Carla’s shoulder, raw, sharply piercing. The roar of a wounded beast and a terrified boy tangled into one. Leon winced repeatedly, as if struck by repeated blows. Carla curled herself around him, clinging tightly over him, her body shielding him from his handler, the looming tower, everything. He shuddered for what seemed like an eternity, gasping for breath, voice cracking. “STOP…stop…please.” 

And then, startling silence. 

The boy laid down in the mud. The air was empty, devoid of the faintest warmth. The taste of iron trickled down his cheek from a gash near his temple. His handler was gone, having made his point. 

Ache. His body ached. His heart throbbed, whether with pain or resignation he did not know. A loneliness surrounded him that ached even more. 

Another slave, trained in rudimentary medics, eventually came by to treat the boy’s wounds. The boy remained face down in the mud, barely moving.  

“Some people scream so loud anyone can hear’em. Wail like babies even.”  A glob of ointment, thick and gloopy, was roughly rubbed on the boy’s shoulders. “You kid? You scream in silence.”

To know another’s pain, to be allowed to see it and witness its vulnerability was a humbling experience. The air was still, as if recognizing the significance of the moment.

“It’s not OK what happened to you. All of it.” 

A painful pressure squeezed the breath from Leon’s lungs and then released at Carla’s words. He had never heard that—an acknowledgement of what he went through, the wrongness of it all. His brothers now knew of his past, but it was never spoken of—a buried truth, an unofficial price for maintaining his status as fourth prince. The silence of it all was too much. 

The boy was too tired to scream. 

And yet. A faint flicker within his heart refused to die out.

 He lifted his head from the mud.   

“If I were in trouble, what would you do?” The words were barely audible, mumbled into Carla’s shoulder. Leon slowly raised his head. I don’t need fixing his golden eyes seemed to plead; I need…I need…

“I’d help you.”

Understanding. “Regardless of who I am?” He hadn’t meant to say it aloud, but the words escaped him.  

“I love you. All of you: past and present; pauper and prince; perfect and pained.” Her voice flowed with understanding and affection. “You speak as if the boy you were before should be gone, forever erased. The echo of him remains, buried inside, guiding you. And I am grateful that boy is still there wanting to be seen and heard.”

Carla cupped a hand to Leon’s cheek, gently encouraging him to look at her. “That boy has made you who you are. You are a man who has witnessed darkness but carries light for Rhodolite. You have walked out of fire but come back with water for those that are still in flames, seeking help within our underground network. You show compassion because that boy knows what is like to have had none.” 

Her words seeped into his being. Love touched every fractured piece of Leon, mending him back together. “So yes, I’d help you. Because I adore you. And because you’ve looked pain in the eye, and you’ve stared back with love—love for your country, your brothers, your people.”

“And you.” Leon was filled with searing warmth. “Especially you. More than anything.” Amber eyes radiated hope again. 

“I would hope so, considering we’re engaged.” Carla smiled slightly. 

His heart squeezed at her words. “You move me so much Carla, it’s almost absurd.” He clasped her to his chest, clinging tight. “Thank you.”

A hand reached for the sky. 

Is anyone there? 

“You’re not alone.” Carla’s hand was steady as Leon reached for it. Her fingers grasped his, twining together.

“We are candles, each lighting the other.” Carla repeated the words she had spoken to Gilbert. “And I will light your way through the dark.”

[sahashbelvanie]

Radagon — Queen’s Hot Cousin

We know the nature of Radagon as Marika’s other half — that big ol’ secret is out of the bag. But something I’d like to explore further is the civilian perception of Radagon, which I feel most people don’t talk about.

This primarily stems from his marriage to Rennala. Radagon’s union with her merged the Erdtree Royal House with the Carian Royal House. But that raises questions about the events leading up to it. Radagon only gained fame during the Liurnian War, which is also his earliest known appearance in historical records. Yet when he arrived in Liurnia, he was presumably commanding a segment of Leyndell’s army.

The fact that Radagon’s marriage united Marika’s bloodline and kingdom with the southern lands of Liurnia must at least imply a familial relation. Now, I know the people of the realm weren’t privy to the truth of their second Elden Lord, but it seems Radagon had some known connection to Marika — perhaps as a distant cousin. Not a demigod, but significant enough for the Queen to appoint him to command a portion of the capital’s military. This blood tie, however you want to frame it, merged the two royal families. So when Marika later married Radagon, it would have been incestuous in both the public and secret contexts.

Radagon was hailed as a hero, a champion, and was known — beyond the war — for his striking red hair. Red hair, of course, is symbolic of Giant’s blood, but it’s also often associated with inherited flame — like that of the Fire Monks or Messmer’s inner circle of Fire Knights. Radagon was apparently self-conscious about his hair and loathed it, despite its flowing beauty. He was a man who sought perfection — or perhaps wholeness — a desire to know and master all things. To some extent, I’m sure he satisfied this under his first wife’s tutelage. Radagon was a “peacekeeper,” a scholarly king, and his reign was one marked by “civilization,” devoid of the barbarity seen during Godfrey’s era.

Of course, Radagon’s reforms led to a wave of Crucible purging, thereby condemning both those blessed by its power and anyone living outside the reach or pretensions of the Erdtree. Gotta love a racist, abusive house-husband twink who plays favorites with his children.

Another point is how good of a servant Radagon was. In retrospect, he did quite a lot to further the interests of the Fingers. He brokered peace with a nation that could resist the Erdtree’s might, produced influential figureheads within the Golden Order — his two sons — one being the captain of the faith’s inquisition, and the other a warrior capable of manipulating fate. He then, either directly or indirectly, weakened the Carian household by emotionally devastating its matriarch into seclusion. He produced multiple heirs to replace Queen Marika and evolved the Golden Order by incorporating sorcery and intellect into its foundation. So, good job, Radagon.

Either way, considering that their relationship was known — at least in part — the incestuous implications make Godrick’s cut dialogue even funnier when he refers to Miquella and Malenia as “rank and malformed.” The byproducts of incest, unlike the gallant golden lions of his stock.

Also, a detail I remembered: the blonde-haired northerners are said to descend from the Giants. It’s possible that the curse of flame — and the red hue — faded or was bred out over time, resulting in their blonde hair. This made me think of Rykard. While his lighter hair could be attributed to Radagon’s genetics (as Marika’s other half), this little tidbit adds another layer of observation.

[jeannereames]

How many love interest did Alexander have in all of his life? I just recently found out he had an affair with a prostitute named Camaspe and apparently she was the one who was the first to have a physical relationship with him although not for long.

Love your work! 💕

Alexander’s Reported Lovers

Just an FYI … Kampaspe (Campaspe in Latin, also Pancaste) is a character in the second volume of Dancing with the Lion (Rise), as I wanted a second female voice and also a slave’s perspective. Even better that she was born to privilege, then lost it. She was reportedly a Thessalian hetaira from Larissa, which was handy as the Argeads had a long history of ties to the city of Larissa. I wrote about her before in a post from the blog tour the publisher had me do when the books first came out. You can read it HERE.

That said, she’s probably a Roman-era invention, mentioned only by late sources (Lucian, Aelian, and Pliny) all with one (repeated) story: Alexander as Super-patron. Reputedly, he gave her to his favored painter Apelles when, commissioned to do a nude,  Apelles fell in love with her. Alexander kept the painting, Apelles got the girl. You bet I’ll have some fun with that. Kampaspe will remain a major character throughout the series…but not as Alexander’s mistress.

When trying to figure out how many sexual partners Alexander had, we must ask which were invented—or denied. Remember: ancient history wasn’t like modern (academic) history. It was essentially creative non-fiction. It inserted speeches, dialogue, even people and events to liven things up and/or to make a moral point. Or it obscured people and events, if that worked better.

Modern readers of ancient sources must always ask WHO wrote this, WHEN was it written, and what POINT did the author intend? Also, especially with anecdotes, look at the wider context. People are especially prone to take anecdotes at face value and treat them as isolated little tales. Yet CONTEXT IS KING.

A lot of our information about Alexander’s love life comes from Plutarch, either in his Life of Alexander or his collection of essays now called the Moralia. Another source is Curtius’s History of Alexander. And finally, Athenaeus’s Diepnosophistai or The Supper Party (really, The Learned Banqueters). All wrote during the Roman empire and had tropes and messages to get across.

Of the WOMEN associated with Alexander, I’m going to divide them into the historical and the probably fictional, or at least their relationship with Alexander was fictional.

Of the certain, we can count one mistress, three wives, and one probable secret/erased liaison.

Barsine is his first attested mistress for whom we have ample references across multiple sources. Supposedly, she bore Alexander a son (Herakles). Herakles certainly existed, but whether he was Alexander’s is less clear to me. As the half-Persian, half-Greek daughter of a significant satrap, she had no little influence. Monica D’Agostini has a great article on Alexander’s women, btw, in a forthcoming collection I edited for Colloquia Antiqua, called Macedon and Its Influences, and spends some time on Barsine. So look for that, probably in 2025, as we JUST (Friday) submitted the last of the proof corrections and index. Whoo! Anyway, Monica examines all Alexander’s (historical) women in—you guessed it!—their proper context.

Alexander also married three times: Roxane, daughter of the warlord Oxyartes of Sogdiana, in early 327. He married again in mid-324 in Susa, both Statiera (the younger), daughter of Darius, and Parysatis, youngest daughter of the king before Darius, Artaxerxes III Ochus. Yes, both at once, making ties to the older and the newer Achaemenid royal lines.

Out of all these, he had only one living son, Alexander IV (by Roxane)—although he got his women pregnant four times. If we can trust a late source (Metz Epitome), and I think we can for this, Roxane had a miscarriage while in India. Also, Statiera the younger was reputedly pregnant when Roxane, with Perdikkas’s help, killed her just a few days (or hours!) after Alexander died.

That’s 3 …who had baby #4?

Statiera the Elder, Darius’s wife. Netflix’s proposal of a liaison between them was not spun out of thin air. Plutarch—the same guy who tells us ATG never even looked at her—also tells us she died in childbirth just a week or three before the battle of Gaugamela, Oct. 1, 331. Keep in mind, Alexander had captured her right after Issos, Nov. 5, 333. Um … that kid wasn’t Darius’s. And if you think ANYbody would have been allowed to have an affair with such a high-ranking captive as the Great-King’s chief wife, I have some swampland in Florida to sell you. More on it HERE.

Now, for the probably fictional….

Kampaspe, I explained above.

Kallixena was supposedly hired by Philip and Olympias (jointly!) to initiate Alexander into sex, because he didn’t seem interested in women. (Yes, this little titbit is also in Rise.) Athenaeus reports the story as a digression on Alexander’s drinking, and how too much wine led to his lack of sexual interest. But within the anecdote, the reported reason for his parents’ hiring Kallixena was because mommy and daddy feared Alexander was “womanish” (gunnis).

Thaïs was linked to him by Athenaeus, almost certainly based on her supposed participation in the burning of Persepolis…which didn’t happen (or not as related; archaeology tosses cold water on it). Thaïs was Ptolemy’s mistress, and the mother of some of his children.

Athenaeus also mentions a couple unnamed interests, but all illustrate the same point: Alexander is too noble to steal somebody else’s love. Two are back-to-back: the flute-girl of a certain Theodoros, Proteas’ brother, and the lyre player of Antipatrides. The last is a boy, the eromenos of a certain Kalchis, a story related apart from the women, but with the same point.

Even more clearly fictional are his supposed encounters with the Amazon Queen Thalestris and Queen Kleophis of the Massaga (in Pakistan). Reportedly, as Onisikritos was reading from his history of Alexander at the court of King Lysimachos (who’d been a close friend, remember), Lysimachos burst out laughing when Onisikritos got to the Amazon story, and asked, “Where was I when this happened?”

Now, when it comes to his MEN/BOYS, the ice is thinner as no names are definitively given except Bagoas (in a couple sources, chiefly Curtius and Athenaeus). We also have a few generic references to pretty boys, as with Kalchis’s boyfriend mentioned above, and some slave boys offered by a certain Philoxenos, who he turns down, a story told by both Plutarch and Athenaeus.

Curtius alone suggests two more, but at least one is meant to show Alexander’s descent into Oriental Corruption(tm), so it’s possible Curtius made them up. At the very least, he used them for his own narrative purposes. Sabine Müller has a great article on this, albeit in German. Still, if you can read German: “Alexander, Dareios und Hephaistion. Fallhöhen bei Curtius Rufus.” In H. Wulfram, ed., Der Römische Alexanderhistoriker Curtius Rufus: Erzähltechnik, Rhetorik, Figurenpsychologie und Rezeption. Vienna: Austrian Academy of Sciences Press, 2016, 13-48.

Romans had a certain dis-ease with “Greek Love,” especially when it involved two freeborn men. Fucking slaves was fine; they’re just slaves. Citizen men with citizen boys…that’s trickier.

Curtius labels two youths “favorites,” a phrasing that implies a sexual affair. One is mentioned early in the campaign (Egypt) when Alexander is still “good”; the other after Alexander begins his slide into Persian Debauchery. These are Hektor, Parmenion’s son (good), and Euxinippos, described as being as pretty as Hephaistion, but not as “manly” (bad). Curtius employs Bagoas similarly, even claims he influenced imperial policy for his own dastardly goals. Gasp!

Yes, of course I’m being sarcastic, but readers need to understand the motifs that Curtius is employing, and what they really mean. Not what 21st century people assume they mean, or romantically want them to mean. (See my "Did Bagoas Exist?" post.)

What about Hephaistion? I’ve discussed him elsewhere in an article, but I’ll just remind folks that it’s nowhere made explicit until late sources, in large part because, by the time we meet Alexander and Hephaistion in the histories, they were adults, and any affair between them would be assumed to have occurred in the past, when they were youths. (See my “It’s Complicated” and a reply to them maybe being “DudeBros.”)

This is why we hear about Alexander’s interest in youths, not adult men. It would be WEIRD to the ancient mind (= Very Very Bad) if he liked adult men. In fact, by comparing Hephaistion to Euxinippos, Curtius slyly insinuates that maybe he and Alexander were still…you know (wink, wink). That’s meant to be a slam against Alexander (and Hephaistion)! Therefore, we cannot take it, in itself, as proof of anything. Alexander’s emotional attachment to Hephaistion, however, is not doubted by any ancient source.

So, all those people are attached to Alexander in our sources, but over half may not be real, or at least, may not have had a sexual relationship with him. There may be (probably are) some that simply didn’t make it into the surviving sources.

Yet I’ve mentioned before that we just don’t find sexual misconduct as one of Alexander’s named faults. Even Curtius and Justin must dig for it/make up shit, such as claiming Alexander actually used Darius’s whole harem of concubines or held a drunken revel through Karia after escaping the Gedrosian Desert. (Blue Dionysos and drag queens on the Seine at the Paris Olympics got nothing on his Dionysian komos!)

Drink, anger, hubris…he sure as hell ticked all those boxes. But not sex. In fact, a number of sources imply he just wasn’t that randy, despite his “choleric” temperament. Some of the authors credit too much drink (bad), others, his supreme self-control (good). He’s more often an example of sexual continence—as in the stories from Athenaeus related above. He also didn’t rape his captives, etc., etc.

Make of that what you like, but I find it intriguing.

[thevoicefromanotherworld]

TODAY MY PARENTS GAVE ME LOGAN'S DOG TAGS FOR THE KINGS' DAY (screams internally) so when I put them on several things came to my mind, especially the one I'm going to explain below with a little fic

The entire fandom agrees that Logan loves to make you his. Not in the way we all know (cough cough), I mean the fact that he lends you his flannel shirts because he loves to see you walk around with them in front of him, as if you were in a fashion show.

That time you mistook your shampoo for his and your hair smelled like his, he felt like he was dying of happiness (and excitement at the same time).

Logan would never admit it out loud, but the fact that you used the same things as him without realizing the impact you were causing on him, made his most primitive instincts come to light, feelings similar to those that a lion must feel with its cubs, although sometimes it seemed more like a predator/prey dynamic.

Like when you were in bed. Logan loves to feel like he's in control, but he likes it better when it's YOU who's in control. When you're on top of him, with your arms resting on his strong shoulders while you move your hips in circles against him to feel him deeper inside you than you already feel him.

Logan enjoys the expressions on your face every time he matches the movements of his hips with yours, the way you bite your lower lip and rest your hands on his chest every time he hits the spots he knows drive you crazy, making him lose his mind little by little.

It is then that he notices that your release is close when he removes the dog tags from around his neck and places them around yours. Your movements become more erratic when the cold material rests against the sensitive skin between your breasts.

He just smiles at your reaction and gently pulls the chain to bring you closer to him and kiss you again, before delighting in the way the tags bounce against your chest every time you move. It would go something like this:

-Look at you - he would say watching you carefully - always so willing, so ready for me - he would praise without taking his eyes off you - I should have done it before - he says referring to putting his tags on you - you like it, right? Carrying my name around your neck like a leash, making it clear who you belong to, isn't that right? - he would ask, slowly getting up to stand in front of you, the change in position made both of you gasp into each other's mouths when he leaned down to kiss you again - answer the question, princess

-Yes, Logan! - you would scream, noticing that the pressure in your lower belly was unbearable - I love it, please! I need…

-I know, darling - he answered, placing his hands on your hips - I have you, let go

And that's what you did. He followed you a few seconds later. His gaze darkened and a half-smile appeared on his lips when he saw you holding his plates between your fingers.

-You can keep them - he said - they look better on you than on me - he whispered - and it's become clear to me how much you like wearing them

You felt yourself blush and covered your face with one of the pillows, before looking at him again

-Sometimes you can be an asshole, you know that?

-Yes, but I'm YOUR asshole - he murmured, trapping you in his big arms-

A few seconds later you both fell asleep, you feeling the comforting and pleasant weight of his dog tags on your chest.

[housano]

Housano's LIVE-A-HALF-ASSED Summaries Presents: I Ise-Can't Event Part 1. 🎶Somewhere Over the Rainbow🎶

CW: Live a Hero Spoilers

Well, well, well. *Ahem* Well. It's been a while hasn't it? Aside from 4 back to back days of concerts, this event is a welcome reprieve to the dumpster fire of real life and of personal interest so I decided to summarize. Considering also there is also a lot of Wizard of Oz references how could I not? So my good Judies, let's go.

We start off in a cathedral of sorts and a new background with our mysterious lion man (we know who he is but the plot wants to build suspense so just roll with it) watching the stars before beginning a ritual, hoping that he can find the rainbow connection. He starts a ritual before the transition fades to black.

Meanwhile in Aradicia, we are having a martial arts tournement of knight. Alphecca is more than happy to participate much to the dismay of his ministry. Anything to get out of his kingly duties, which I respect. The setup for this match is Heroes v Knights with an enthusiastic Ryekie Aside from Huckle and Ryekie, Danzo and reXer are there as part of Neo Talent Productions. Danzo is giving reXer a hard time for being a rookie. Hydoor (aka HIDOL) and Polaris Mask are here on behalf of the athletes. Tsundere as ever, Hydoor gets pissy if we call him Hi-kun and Polaris Mask doesn't help the situation by saying how much Hydoor was looking forward to seeing us.

We then catch up with Exio and Meride who just got back from the infirmary. Meride said the Ether disturbances have caused her to have pain, which Exio asks is our beloved MC experienced any significant side effects. We check that area and noticed some disturbances and also other operators are not doing too hot. You volunteer to take over the upcoming match.

The fight begins between the heroes and the Knights of Aradicia, with the heroes gaining an advantage (despite Ryekie ignoring Huckles warning of using his electric powers after Hydoor's water abilities [Not beating the Himbo allegations]).

Suddenly the ether activity starts going haywire and it causes Melide to pass out before a giant void opens up and sucks in MC before Hydoor grabs him/her/them unfortunately his chain breaks and Danzo catches them only for his rope to break and all 3 of us get sucked into the eternal darkness together while Huckle calls out in vain.

LIVE A HERO Final Chapter- I never thought we would die this way but I'd always hoped - EN-

Just kidding. After being in the darkness we find ourselves in a new world, still grappled to Danzo with Hydoor hanging on his leg. Hydoor is upset at how Danzo could not even notice , which Danzo that he has no nerve sensation in his prosthetic but was wondering it felt heavier. We also realize that we are hurdling towards the ground, and Danzo decides to be the impact absorber with Hydoor hugging his back and MC wrapped around his front (WHY HAS NO ONE DRAWN THIS YET)

After "safely" landing we take in our surroundings and wonder if we've been teleported to the Xenoblade Universe. Our group hypothesizes that either a) we are in a paralell universe b) we did the time warp again. We are suddenly attacked by kaibutsu, and thankfully we are still able to tranform despite technical difficulties with the LIVE A HERO app. However since we are in another world, view power is quite diminished we barely managed to beat them.

We are then met by the inhabitants who are shadow figures of mob units who are speaking a foreign language that we are unable to decipher. Fortunately, they case a spell of sorts and we not only understand them, but our MC is the hero of this story who will save them all from ruin. They offer to take us the King of this land we're off to see him in Part 2

I Ise-Can't Event Part 1. I don't think we're in Aradicia Anymore- END

For Part 2 Click Here

[holyrunawaychild]

A new post from Curtis Jobling today in anticipation of the premiere of Wolf King this Thursday featured this photo.

It features the new cover for the Rise of the Wolf rerelease, now titled Wolf King: His Destiny Awaits. And a deck of playing cards with screenshots from the show for the face cards.

None of the visible cards are shots that have been shown in either trailers.

So, for non-book readers, if you don’t want spoilers (potential or otherwise) prior to Thursday, don’t go further.

Before I start analyzing, I want this deck. I want this as merch. I want an art book and I want these playing cards.

Firstly, the Queen of Clubs, Gretchen presumably during the fight with Vala. The heavy mist and lighting lines up with the scenes of that fight within the trailers.

For the Ace of Diamonds, we have Baron Huth…

Doing his best King Hamlet impression.

Joking and unintentional pun aside, this does not happen in the book. And, as best as I can tell in spite of the picture quality, this takes place in Brackenholme.

As concluded from the trailers, the Redmire section of the book is being moved to Brackenholme. Likely for budgetary or story reasons.

In fact, here’s Huth dead behind Lucas, who seemingly will take Captain Brutus’s role in these events.

So, somehow, someone is seemingly going to commune with Huth’s ghost.

Once again referring to the trailers, Hector can’t be the one doing this. He’s in the lift when Drew cuts it down for them and Gretchen to escape.

There’s only one other character who could do this, Vankaskan. For what reason or purpose, I don’t know. This doesn’t happen in the book, so we’re in uncharted territory.

King of Hearts is — appropriately — Drew.

Nothing much to say here. Red light shining on him. No background to identify where he is.

Now this is the most intriguing card of the set.

The Ace of Spades.

Are we seeing Count Kesslar?

It’s a goatlord, there’s little doubt in that. And the only named or otherwise mentioned goatlord in the series is Kesslar.

Now, if this is our most hated slave trader, this means one of two things. One, this is a flashback to when Leopold conquered Lyssia. The brown/grey monochrome of the shot could indicate that. Kesslar would fit in to the slime balls Leopold has a pension for working with.

Secondly, he’s going to be introduced as a minor villain in season 1 (like a one episode villain) to set up the bigger conflict with Drew in Rage of Lions and Shadow of the Hawk.

Setting him up more as a small time villain for the first half of the series (seasons 1-3).

Last of the fully visible cards is the King of Clubs, King Leopold himself.

For as little context the shot gives, we can have a good idea about where this takes place.

As we have several shots of Leopold in the Highcliff throne room, which has this specific lighting.

Though we’re done looking at the uncovered cards, there are four that are teased.

The Jacks of Clubs and Spades, Ace of Clubs and Queen of Hearts.

The Jack of Spades is impossible to identify. Just some clouds at sunset.

The Jack of Clubs isn’t much better, but there’s a sliver of a pauldron and what is likely a sword. Given that these face cards seem to be exclusively major characters, I think this card is one of two people. Mack Ferran (After he red-equips his wolfguard armor) or an non transformed Duke Manfred (the pauldron doesn’t 100% line up, but there’s no other characters we see with this type of armor).

The Ace of Diamonds is Count Vega, unquestionably. I recognize that shade of blue anywhere. They STILL won’t show his face. At this point, it has to be on purpose.

Now, the Queen of Hearts.

It’s a shot in the dark, but I think it’s Queen Amalie.

There are not many female characters (let alone major enough to be on these cards) in book 1 to have. There’s Gretchen (Already accounted for), Whitley (arm doesn’t match her jacket), and Tilly (the bit of clothes don’t match either). The give away for me is that there seems to be white hair poking around the borders of the cards covered it. One of the few explicit details we have to Amalie’s appearance in the books.

[friendlybowlofsoup]

Update Jan. 4, 2024

Happy New Year, Everyone! 🎆

I hope everyone has had a great holiday season and are managing to keep warm. I have been quite busy with school since my last update, but I had an extremely restful and productive winter break so I thought I should share my progress!

For starters, I have finally finished porting over all of the prologue to twine 🎉 I completely forgot how needlessly complex this first portion was, but it's finally over and now I can move on to my Chapter 1 rewrites _(:3 」∠)_

I also finished porting over a barebones version of the stats/character menu page that I will probably leave alone for now. It's not the prettiest thing in the world, but I really want to focus on narrative writing, so it will have to do. That said, it is perfectly serviceable as it is and retains the functions that are included in the dashingdon demo, all except for a stats indicator of some kind.

As for Chapter 1 and 2, writing has been going well now that I can focus on it completely. I've decided to completely upend the first half of Chapter 1 to reflect the new direction I'm going in, and I'll give some small crumbs in the cut below for those who are interested ┬┴┬┴┤･ω･)ﾉ

But that is all I have for now! I will update again once Chapter 1 is finished, thank you again, Everyone!

Spoilers below: while I won't be going into too much detail, I will be referring to specific scenes and characters in Chapter 1, so if you'd like to experience the new demo blind, I recommend not clicking below.

--

General Route (prior to meeting Min He):

Rewriting the meet with Qiu at the apothecary

Extending the time you get with An and Qiu prior to meeting Min He

Also giving more chances to experience the spirit world route prior to the path split, to give MC more of a reason to stay or return to the mountain.

Mountain Route:

Rewriting first impression of returning the mountain overall

Possibly moving up Kaski meeting for pacing

Xinyi?? Fluff King finally??

Spirit Route:

Largest amount of rewrites here, mostly due to streamlining the four directions into two initial ones.

Pacing also moved up, so MC gets to maybe encounter something they probably shouldn't know about :)

Tai Clan -> turning from a clan of tengu into stone lions for plot, which means rewriting encounter with Tai Shek (it suits his name more too lol ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ)

Meeting two characters in Shi'Guo initially meant to be introduced later! They're very dear to me, so please treat them well ^^

Of course, everything is subject to change, but I hope this was insightful information regardless, hehe. Thanks again, Everyone!