#adaras story

[owlart18]

Wanted to try this oc template! First time drawing my v old legend of Zelda oc??

Speedpaint

(Commission info here | MapleStickerShop)

Blank template by IcewingCalamity:

[adara-et-al]

here have an oc - this is Donna Jones. she's very strong and very powerful and also approximately 4ft tall.

[nexility-sims]

𝐍𝐎. 𝟖 (𝟑/𝟑)   ❛ 𝐡��𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 ❜   |   EARLY OCTOBER 1991

❧  𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲  /  𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠  /  𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬  /  𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.

→ 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐍 That performance had been different. It wasn’t a caress either; it had felt like being strangled by familiar, then insistent hands. Fluke’s music always roused emotion, but she had returned from the backroom to the dance floor entirely unprepared for how it would hit her this time. The audience swayed as Ursula crooned the opening lines into her microphone. Increasingly distracted, Leonor watched with anxious eyes when the movement of bodies picked up speed. The crowd soon roiled. Limbs flailed. Ursula’s windmilling guitar strums, drumsticks rising and falling in Adara’s grasp, the beer bottles and cigarettes and open palms held aloft all around—

❧ okay ... it's done ... i feel like i just ran a marathon, creatively sdfkhsf :^) and, as always, you're really not getting the full story if you're not reading below the cut (^:

𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 & 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

“Was that when he did the song?” Kore asked, interrupting her thoughts. 

Leonor licked her lips, then shook her head. “No. Later. Heartbreaker.” 

That performance had been different. It wasn’t a caress either; it had felt like being strangled by familiar, then insistent hands. Fluke’s music always roused emotion, but she had returned from the backroom to the dance floor entirely unprepared for how it would hit her this time. The audience swayed as Ursula crooned the opening lines into her microphone. Increasingly distracted, Leonor watched with anxious eyes when the movement of bodies picked up speed. The crowd soon roiled. Limbs flailed. Ursula’s windmilling guitar strums, drumsticks rising and falling in Adara’s grasp, the beer bottles and cigarettes and open palms held aloft all around— 

At some point, it was no longer a floor filled with costumed guests enjoying live music. They transmuted, perhaps between her furious blinking, into a nest of monsters. Leonor found the sheer scale and radiance of their collectivity grotesque, so much so that she stood frozen by fright in the center of this undulating mass they formed. She would have remained that way forever—waiting, as it were, to be drenched and digested while mostly unaware of her own shrieking—if they hadn’t spit Renzo out and into her face. Through his sunglasses, she could see concern in his also-green eyes. Taken by that, comforted, she was entirely unprepared to be spun around and pushed further into the tangle of creatures. She yelped, shocked, helpless like any prey, each time a body bumped into her. Still, Renzo’s hands gripped her arms, and she sank back into him as he propelled her forward. Her feet didn’t need to move. If she was going to be eaten, she would have to be fed to it, them, this animated inspissation. 

Instead, she survived and returned to the backroom once again. Red light soaked everything like blood. This is being dead? she’d wondered. I thought it’d be blue. The door shut with a hypnotist’s finger snap. Head to toe, doglike, Leonor shook herself while Renzo watched. She sank down onto the sectional, sighing so hard that she momentarily lost her breath. Or, her chest fell still and tense, and he exclaimed, ‘Hey, breathe—!’ That was a command, and it brought something out of her, very much doglike still. She felt kicked. 

She climbed onto his lap unbidden once he joined her. The room swam in the periphery, red light filling up to the ceiling and spilling over in a continuous loop. His face was all she saw. It shifted and morphed as they talked. Yet, it wasn’t talking in her recollection. Their voices were shouts, muffled and overlaid, stitched together by frustration. She felt it now with Kore’s face supplanting his. Renzo’s face—she had never seen it that way. Only, he wasn’t angry. She was the one who was maddened, had gone feral, turned from prey on the verge of devourment to an animal out of its mind. All she truly remembered was what she relayed to Kore. ‘I’m not your baby.’ He took it in. ‘I’m not your baby. I’m an adult. I know what I want. I’m not your baby. You’re not my—You don’t have to tell me anything. I know, okay, I know a lot. Everything. I’m not your baby.’ 

It devolved. She was her mother’s daughter. Desperate and feeble, she shoved him. Her hands were unkind. They aided a tantrum, and he allowed it. Her words—what were they? Did they matter? It was how she said them. Unrestrainable, she had finally stumbled to the door, shouting still, and he drowned her out in response. The frustration seethed. ‘Go ahead, get the fuck out of here!’ This was not Uspanian, but she understood. ‘I’m leaving! I’m over it!’ Yet, meaning was lost on her even as she had uttered this word, “it.” Get out! Have fun!’ he called, this time in her language. She struggled to slam the door. It was very important that it slammed. The knob fell from her hands; the mischievous hinges resisted her. Renzo talked to himself. ‘What the fuck ... Jesus.’ Who was that? Slam. Slam. Slam—there, at last, for good measure.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Kore said, interrupting. As Leonor reached to lift the hands holding her in place, she added, “You can talk about it later—tomorrow, whenever. Better that way, actually. How about I take you home?” 

Leonor considered the proposition. Then, she countered, “If I can’t talk to Renzo, then I just need to go back onto the roof for a minute. Okay? Just a minute. I just need to—” 

“No, no, no,” Kore replied quickly, pushing Leonor toward the door that would lead them back into the bar’s main space. She struggled against her. Then, perhaps realizing she wouldn’t win that way, Leonor sank down abruptly to the ground. Kore let out a laugh of exasperation. “Really?” 

While Kore stood there with her hands on her hips, Leonor scrambled between her legs and leapt to her feet. Kore followed as she rushed toward the stairwell. Thinking it better to shadow than try stopping her again, Kore trailed after as Leonor climbed the stairs with cautious steps. The stairwell was small but dark, and the city’s bright nighttime lights illuminated the passage easily as soon as Leonor threw open the door. There were other people on the roof when they emerged, and Kore waved to them, but Leonor gave no notice. Her face turned upward to the moon; with closed eyes, she stood and let her arms, palms open, extend. 

“Moon goddess,” Kore remarked quietly as the party carried on around them.

Leonor said nothing, but she stood, swaying lightly, for some time. Kore imagined that she must be thinking of her mother—perhaps thanking her for showing up to the party.

Below the roof’s edge, visible across the street, birds resumed screeching.

TRANSCRIPT:

KORE | Was that when he did the song?

LEONOR | No. Later. Heartbreaker.

[Music, party noise]

[New song begins, crowd cheering]

[Ursula singing]

[Leonor gasps]

[Commotion, Leonor exclaiming, music continues]

RENZO | Too much—[Leonor yelps] [Sighs] What did I say? Come here …

[Music fades, Leonor whimpering]

RENZO | You’ll be okay. [Shushes] Overstimulated, that’s all. Some quiet—

RENZO | Hey, breathe—!

LEONOR | I’m not your baby. I’m not your baby. I’m an adult. I know what I want. I’m not your baby. You’re not my—You don’t have to tell me anything. I know, okay, I know a lot. Everything. I’m not your baby.

[Shouting]

Go ahead, get the fuck out of here! I’m leaving! I’m over it! Get out! Have fun!

What the fuck … Jesus.

[Door slams]

[Leonor mumbling] KORE | I'm sure it's fine. You can talk about it later—tomorrow, whenever. Better that way, actually. How about I take you home?

LEONOR | If I can't talk to Renzo, then I just need to go back onto the roof for a minute. Okay? Just a minute. I just need to— KORE | No, no, no.

[Carlo and Sybil laughing] KORE | [laughs] Really?

[Music, laughter, conversations] KORE | Moon goddess …

[Paparazzi chattering, cameras flashing]

[sarahreesbrennan]

Hello! If IOL were to get adapted into a TV show (or film I suppose), what are some things you'd be excited for, or things you'd want revealed that we don't get from Elliot's POV?

(also fun fact: my name is Elliot too! It may or may not have been very helpful in getting me to read the book three years ago)

Hi Elliot! A fine name. :)

The silver screen by its nature allows us into more points of view - it’s why my TV tie-ins always had more and briefer PoVs than I usually write, to give the same effect as a moving camera. And In Other Lands is a very limited third by design, since we really have to feel Elliot’s feelings to be in it with him. So immediately a visual, more-on-the-surface medium would open the story up to more reveals - there’s a lot to be done with Serene and Luke, and (for my money) with Captain Woodsinger, Golden, Adara and Myra.

The question also arises what the director’s or showrunner’s vision is, because the showrunner would not be me. There are so many different ways to tell a tale.

If they’re going gritty child soldiers, there’s more to be done with the wars between the different peoples, with dryads and dwarves, and with Delia Winterchild and her lost twin. If they’re going, say, romcom like a fantasy Heartstopper, we’re probably putting Wings In the Morning and In Other Lands in a blender and starting with the characters 15 and up. If they’re doing children’s adventure a la (gayer, weirder) Percy Jackson, we might meet the key three waking up in their respective settings on the day they head off to the Border camp - Serene exiting in a rebellious huff after blazing row with her mother, Luke worried under the weight of loving expectation, Elliot totally clueless and friendless in another world - are these children going to meet? What will hap— Holy SHIT the redhead is being rude! But we’d get it, because we saw where he came from.

The mood of a story is often dictated by what information you parcel out when.

And TV throws curveballs. (Movies less often.) What if the Elliot and Adara actors had lightning-in-a-bottle chemistry? What if Luke and Dale did? I hardly dare imagine. But then again, if it was a She-Ra-style animated series, that would be far less likely. So it’s hard to say what I’d be excited for, as I wouldn’t know what to expect!

I’d be really excited if they did any kind of series, because that’s such a show of faith in my work. And it would mean more job security, and new covers, and more chances for me to get more readers and perhaps most important of all to write more in the In Other Lands world… which (more on this later) I would love to do.

A show is always a wild shot - I’d always try to think of the books as my first concern, as they might do something totally bonkers with an adaptation. (Me, if Luke and Serene fell in romantic love while Elliot died a cowardly weasel’s death: What Show? I Cannot Perceive the Moving Pictures, I Just Do Not Know.) Buuuut, if it ever did happen, I would love to see more of the interdynamics at the Border camp, stuff that flew totally over Elliot’s head. I’d love to have Golden introduced earlier. I’d love to have the harpies in sooner, but as a sinister presence until the big reveal. And of course, channeling my inner Elliot, I’d love to see the mermaids. Throw the whole budget at mermaids!

Thanks for asking, and dreaming with me. 💜

[sundove88]

Livi’s Countdown to Halloween Art Challenge:

Here’s my art challenge when it comes to Halloween! Every day in October, there will be a new drawing!

1. Laios (Delicious in Dungeon) (Knight)

2. Celestia Ludenberg (Danganronpa) (Vampire Queen)

3. Idia Shroud (Twisted Wonderland) (Twisted Wonderland)

4. Ortho Shroud (Twisted Wonderland) (Robot)

5. Count Bleck (Super Paper Mario) (Vampire King)

6. Onion Cookie (Cookie Run) (Ghost)

7. Scary Godmother (Scary Godmother) (Witch)

8. Darkrai (Pokemon) (Phantom)

9. Kwazii (Octonauts) (Pirate)

10. Frieza (DBZ) (Alien)

11. Cleo De Nile (Monster High) (Mummy)

12. Jett Adara (@jettthespeeddemon) (Demon)

13. Mortis (Brawl Stars) (Undead Trio)

14. Battamonda (Hirogaru Sky Precure) (Rockstar)

15. SkullMan (Mega Man) (Skeleton)

16. Narinder/The One Who Waits (Cult of The Lamb) (Occult)

17. Arachnus (Yo-Kai Watch) (Spider)

18. Moondrop (FNaF Security Breach) (Five Nights At Freddy’s)

19. Barnaby (Billie Bust Up) (Death)

20. Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) (Sin)

21. Navirou (Monster Hunter Stories) (Wilderness)

22. Constance Hatchaway (Haunted Mansion) (Disney)

23. Snatcher (A Hat in Time) (Contract)

24. Queen Chrysalis (MLP) (Infestation)

25. Corbeau (Magia Record) (Ravens)

26. King Boo (Super Mario) (Luigi’s Mansion)

27. Fierce Deity Link (The Legend of Zelda) (Majora’s Mask)

28. Nitori Kawashiro (TouHou) (Yokai)

29. Elza Forte (Aikatsu Stars) (Siren)

30. Lance (Balan Wonderworld) (Theatre)

31. Sally Grange and Pumpkin (Cookie Run Sugar Linkage) (Linker)

[cressidagrey]

Something good and right and real - Chapter 5

Summary:

Azriel had spent centuries believing that he of all people didn't deserve a mate. And if anything, the last three years had just galvinised that particular belief. And then he meets her.

The first time Oriana met Azriel, she thought that he reminded her of a skittish cat. Shy and a little bit broken. Good for him that she absolutely excelled in fixing the things around her.

Warnings:

Rhys Bashing, Discussion of Murder

Notes:

I put a lot of world building into this. If you don't recognise it from canon, I probably invented. Or I forgot that canon existed.

(thanks to @firefly-graphics for the super pretty dividers!)

Tartera lived in the mountains surrounding Velaris. 

Not unlike Hewn City, a whole world carved from the mountain. Hollowed out, held together by magic. Though, they had done it first. 

There were legends of her kind, of the first Tartera fairies being carved from stone itself. Maybe that was why they felt so at ease in the mountain. 

Oriana easily admitted that while she could withstand fire like every Tartera, she did like the sun and the fresh air. 

Cyrus hated going into the mountain. Probably not helped by the fact that he hated the fire as well. 

Still, once a year, for their grandmother’s birthday, they went into the mountain, Oriana holding a ball of fire in her palm as they made their way through the entrance, greeting the guards and then walking deeper into the mountain. 

It should just be around midday. Lunch promised to be a less formal affair than dinner ever had been, and her grandmother would probably be holding court like she usually did. 

Oriana had never actually asked how old her grandmother was. A few millennials maybe?

Her mother was close to 800 years old, after all, her oldest sister was around 600. 

Oriana was the youngest just over 200 years of age. 

But Cyra, Custodian of the Mountain…well, she was older than all of them. 

She could tell stories about things that hadn’t happened in centuries, about people long dead, a time before the great war…

Cyra had lived through it all. 

Still, their grandmother wasn’t the first member of their family that they met. That honour belonged to her brother Samson, a guard member that protected the mountain from…well, anybody that thought that they should get a cut out of the precious metals and gems they mined eyes day. They didn’t have many, enchantments and wards kept out…most if not all. 

He greeted them with a nod, a dark red cloak wrapped around broad shoulders, fastened with the traditional brooch, which made it obvious to what creed he belonged. 

“Cyrus, Oriana,” he rumbled, always a man of few words. 

“Samson,” she responded, having absolutely no qualms about coming up to him and hugging him, even when he never quite hugged her back. He never told her to stop either. And she knew he would do that if it really bothered him. “How has it been?”

“Not much has changed since last year,” he responded. “Titania was wondering when you two would finally arrive.”

Of course, their oldest sister would wonder. She was the first daughter of the first daughter after all. 

It marked her as 2nd in command to the mountains and their realm, if one could call it like that. 

They lived under the command of the Night Court but within the mountain, the word of her Grandmother was law. 

The word of Adara was law. The word of Titania was law. Then Althea, Titania's eldest daughter… 

Then Enya, their middle sister. 

It had never needed to go further down the line than that. 

Which was good for Oriana, because then it would have been her word that would be listened to, and nobody wanted that. 

She would make a really bad Custodian of the Mountain. Oriana wasn’t prideful enough to admit that. 

She much preferred the art of making jewellery over the art of ruling. Oriana would leave the ruling to her grandmother and mother and sister and niece. 

Oriana would stay in the forge. 

Still, she was the third daughter of the first daughter. If they kept to something as human as a title…well, then she would probably be something akin to a princess. 

A runaway princess. Who didn’t particularly like the title either. 

In the mountain, she was chattel of a sort. 

Not high enough in the line of succession to have any right to reign. But high enough that she had been used to broker an alliance between her family and Wynstan’s. Giving them a tertiary claim to her grandmother’s council table and cementing her mother’s claim to the headship of the mountain. 

“Well, here we are,” Cyrus responded with a sigh... “Just when we said we would come.” Samson just shrugged, all of them well used to their eldest sisters’ moods, and followed along with him to the Great Hall. 

Oriana pulled back her shoulders, patting down her unruly curls that escaped the bun she had urged it into that morning and then walked into the Great Hall behind her brothers. 

Their entrance was marked with the quietening of conversation until it finally ceased completely. Her fist clenched at that, but she said nothing, the smile on her face set in place, her shoulders back, every step measured. 

She wore one of her more traditional gowns, something that Enya had made for her years ago because she didn’t want to listen to her mother’s comments that she would make with near certainty if Oriana wore anything that wasn’t obviously Tartera in its origins. This was. This had her sister all over it. 

Complete with the belt comprised of chains and charms, that Oriana had made herself, every single one carrying her maker’s mark. 

She wore her creed openly, there for everybody to see. 

People stared. Of course, they did. 

Decades ago, the sight of Oriana had been common among the Great Hall, among the other fairies living in the mountain. 

She had worked here, lived along them. There had been no reason to think of her as anything but Tartera, even with her pointy ears. 

She had kept most of her abilities quiet, no fire dancing at her fingertips unless she was in the forge…no flames flicking through her eyes.  Then Wynstan…had happened, and her magic had been in a state of flux. She was quite certain that people had been terrified of her. 

Now…Now, with her only being here so rarely…well, Oriana was legend and myth. 

Oriana Fireborn, Third Daughter of the First Daughter. 

It was whispered behind her back. 

She wondered what some of them would think if they knew about what lay beneath the skirts swishing around her ankles. 

What she wasn’t wearing openly was the harness that kept the two knives Azriel had given her strapped to her thighs.  But it was still there, easily able to be accessed, thanks to the slits in the side seams of her skirt.

She highly doubted that she would even need them, but she was also quite sure that the only reason he hadn’t told her to wear them, was because he didn’t think she was going to agree to it. 

Jokes on him. She definitely agreed. 

Granted, the only person she had ever really thought about stabbing in the mountain was no other than Wynstan’s older brother Titus, but that could change.

And if the knives weren’t enough….well, she had Azriel’s shadows wrapped around her wrist, twisting themselves through her bracelet stacks, until it seemed like they were polished onyx and part of them. 

Her grandmother was holding court at the High Table. Even as tiny as her grandmother was, she still somehow seemed larger than life to Oriana. And the curtsy came to her like a second nature. 

“Oriana.” She was home. Old, wrinkled hands gently patted her cheek. “Let me look at you, little flame.”

She leaned into her grandmother’s touch, let the glamour that she kept around her eyes fall and her grandmother stared into the flames of her eyes, flicking merrily. 

Somehow her grandmother just seemed to know things. She stared at Oriana and a pleased smile appeared on her face. She wondered if her grandmother somehow knew about Azriel. 

“Happy Birthday,” Oriana said quietly. 

Her grandmother hummed. “We’ll talk tomorrow,” she told Oriana pointedly. 

Cyrus took her place as she rose gracefully and stepped to the side, dipping into a shallower curtsy as she reached her mother. 

When she was younger, Oriana had wanted to be like her mother. Otherworldly beautiful, bleeding elegance with every step. 

The one thing she had inherited from her was her height. Gracefulness had been something hard-won and definitely not inbred for her. 

And finally, Oriana had realised that while she could put on a mask of something similar to her mother if the situation called for it, she had absolutely no want whatsoever to spend every hour and every day like that. 

She was fine with that. 

“Mama,” she greeted her and her mother mustered her. She had the sudden want to twitch under her gaze and pat down her hair, but she didn’t. She wasn’t a youngling any longer. She was over two centuries old. Her mother should be well used to Oriana showing up, smudged with soot and still neck deep in the theory behind one of her enchantments. 

That was what she excelled in. 

“You are looking…well,” her mother finally said quietly. “Are you ready to come back to life with us properly?”

Of course. 

Regardless of how long Oriana stayed living in Velaris, regardless of how well she did there…her mother could still not understand it. 

Of course not. 

To her mother, every position within the mountain was higher than anything Oriana could reach outside of it. 

Within the mountain she had been one of the best, respected and even feared…Outside Oriana played at being a simple shopkeeper as far as her mother was concerned. 

“Not on a bet,” Oriana responded drily. “I quite like my life in Velaris.”

Her mother just sighed. 

“You were always odd,” came the voice of her oldest sister to her side and Oriana smiled at her. 

“Titania,” she greeted her. 

“Not bored yet of making nothing but earrings and bracelets?” Her sister asked, as always prodding and probing to find a chip in her armour. The problem was only that Oriana knew Titania’s playbook by heart. 

“It’s quite relaxing,” she responded evenly. “I think I of all people deserve that after what happened.”

Her sister softened. 

Regardless of how prickly Titania could be, there were a few things Oriana could count on. Titania would prickle and prod, but nobody else was allowed to do that same, or hell would rain onto them. 

And Titania adored her husband and daughter more than life itself. 

“I’ll never understand you,” Titania muttered under her breath, making Oriana laugh softly.

That was just the opening said husband and daughter needed to slide into the conversation, with Anthea happily coming bouncing right up and hugging her tightly. She had only celebrated her 20th birthday months ago, a child her sister had longed for desperately for decades until they had finally gotten her.

“Aunt Oriana!” Anthea sing songed. “So do I get a gift?” she asked her and Oriana couldn’t help but snort in amusement. 

“You aren’t the one whose birthday it is,” she pointed out reasonably. Anthea pouted. 

Oriana sighed, slipping off one of the many bracelets she wore. The one that she had made with Anthea in mind, a white opal inset. 

She held it out to her eldest niece, who snatched it up. 

“I am your favourite,” she singsonged. “Thank you!”

Toron, Anthea’s father, snorted in amusement, reaching out to ruffle Oriana’s hair. She glared at her brother-in-law. He gave her a bright grin in response. 

“You are all ridiculous,” Enya said, crossing her arms. The middle sister. “At least you are wearing a proper dress. I was terrified that the High Fae Fashion may have started to drag on you.” 

“I like my gowns. Especially this one. You made it after all,” Oriana agreed peacefully, taking a seat between Toron and Enya. 

“And what did you bring back for me?” Toron asked her. 

“You are too old for gifts,” she hit back with a roll of her eyes, amused beside herself.  

“700 years isn’t old,” he disagreed with a pout. 

“True, you are nearly a spring chicken,” Enya sniped under her breath. 

“Where’s Kiran?” she wondered, eyes searching around the room. 

“Where do you think he possibly could be?” Enya snorted in amusement. Right. Stupid question. Probably somewhere deep inside his forge. 

“How’s the leg holding up?” Oriana asked Toron and he shrugged. She looked down under the table as he pulled up his pants leg, showing the gold and silver prosthetic leg. He had lost his leg in the same accident that had killed Oriana’s father. 

The prosthetic leg had been made by himself, enchanted by Oriana and fitted by Enya, a healer by Creed. 

It worked a treat for him, still, it had taken decades to perfect it and Oriana still worried that it was going to stop working one day and she couldn’t fix it. 

She fixed everything. 

“All good,” he promised her. “Though I figured since you were here, you were going to take it apart once again.”

“Don’t think I have the time for it, I am not planning to stay longer than 3 days,” she admitted. “But I’ll check up on it.”

“Oh?” Toron asked, so much said in such a small noise. 

“I have things to take care of back in Velaris,” she admitted before she finally got to actually eat some of the food that was waiting for her. 

She slipped right back into the midst of her family. Now that she wasn’t with them year-round, she could appreciate them a whole lot more. Crazy, how that sounded. 

Still, she listened to the newest gossip that Enya provided and followed along with her sister as Enya dragged her to her room to get ready for the evening ball. 

“What have you done to your poor hair?” Enya asked her, pulling a grimace as she picked out the few dozen of hairpins that Oriana used on a normal day to keep her hair contained. 

It was long and thick and curly, and it never seemed to quite do what she wanted. So up into a bun it went, so that it wasnÄt going to interfere with her work. 

“Nothing?” Oriana asked and Enya growled at her. She knew better than to say anything when her sister got like that, dousing her hair in some kind of potion or other. 

She held her tongue, even when she worried about going bald. 

Still, whatever Enya did to her hair, for once managed to make it look…well, manageable. The curls were shiny and defined, and it was soft to the touch, falling to her waist in onyx black ringlets. 

“I’ll get you a bottle,” Enya muttered under her breath. “I can’t look at you when you look like that.” 

Oriana bit back the amusement. 

It wasn’t like she didn’t care how she looked. She was big enough to own too many dresses and way too much jewellery. But she was far removed from her older sisters, for whom all of that was a secondary calling of sports. 

If Enya wasn’t busy stitching up flesh, she was stitching up dresses. 

Still, Oriana sat through Enya’s primping and prodding with no protests, because that was how Enya showed her love. 

Oriana just snuck her jewellery in response. 

“You have a gown?” she asked Oriana, who just stared at her. 

“You mean a gown that you aren’t going to let me wear anyway?” she responded drily and Enya huffed. 

Oriana bit back a smile.

Enya did let her choose her own jewellery, let her pin back one side of her hair with a couple of pins decorated with white opals, her grandmother’s favourite stones. 

And then Enya brought out the dress. 

Marigold yellow layers upon layers of nearly shine through silk, so thin that everything could ruin it…so thin that it would be seethrough if there wasn’t so much of it. 

That together with a yellow-gold gem-studded belt that she had made for Enya years ago, so wide that it would cover much of her midsection. 

“I think it will look beautiful,” Enya told her, brokering no argument, already starting to unlace the back of her dress for her. 

“It’s gorgeous,” Oriana agreed as she pulled her dress over her head. 

For a moment, Enya was quiet. 

“Oriana.”

“Yes?”

“Any particular reason why in the world you have knives strapped to your thighs.”

Oriana would make a truly horrible spy, because she totally forgot that she had them. 

She had been so busy with…practically everything else that the knives that had been a comforting weight just hours prior had been promptly forgotten. 

Somehow she thought that Azriel would look at her with this face somewhere between amusement and tragic despair. 

“Call it protection?” Oriana suggested and Enya just glared at her. 

“Can you even use them?” her sister asked her. “Maybe we should have Samson show you how to do it. Before you accidentally stab yourself.”

“I can use them,” Oriana defended herself. “He taught me how to use them.”

“Samson?” Enya wondered. 

She bit her lip. 

“No,” she admitted. “My mate.”

Enya just stared at her. 

“Cyrus knows. Now you.”

And then there was only a soft shocked sound before Enya enveloped her into a tight hug. “Oh, Oriana. I am so pleased for you,” her sister whispered. 

Oriana knew that she meant it. 

Enya maybe didn’t want a mate for herself, but that didn’t stop her from being supportive of her.  

“When did it happen?” Enya asked her as she let her go, picking up the dress and helping Oriana pull it over her head. 

“A few weeks ago,” Oriana said softly. “I was just walking the streets…and there he was. I stumbled right into him.”

Enya would listen to all the details that Cyrus really couldn’t care less about. 

“So he's High Fae?” Enya asked her. 

“No,” Oriana answered. “Illyrian.”

“Illyrian,” Enya repeated, her eyes widening nearly comically. “He has wings .”

Oriana couldn’t hold back the laugh at that, because she had half expected that reaction though probably not for the reasons that one might think. 

“Oh yes, he has,” she agreed. Beautiful Wings at that. All of him was beautiful.  

“He can fly ,” Enya said wondrously and Oriana nodded. 

“He even took me flying with him,” she teased her sister. 

“I am so jealous,” Enya said with a sigh. “Does he have a brother I can borrow or something? Just for the flying?”

 “I’ll ask him,” Oriana volunteered and Enya just sighed once again, before shrewd eyes finally stared at the at the necklace that was still around her throat. 

“What about…” Enya started and Oriana interrupted her. 

“I am taking it off.”

At least she hoped she would. 

Oriana had a plan. 

She just hoped it would work. 

“You are?” Enya asked her, sounding surprised. 

Oriana just nodded. “Tonight.”

The faster she got it down, the quicker she was free of Wynstan and everything that marriage represented to her. 

And she didn’t want to wear the necklace anymore. 

She had taken notes after notes on it, written down the runic array she had used, and taken it apart…she would be able to replicate the protection she had on it. She was sure of that. 

Now she just needed to break it. 

“Why tonight?” Enya asked her quietly.

Of course, her sister was going to pick up on that. 

“Because nobody is going to be in the fire chamber when they are busy dancing,” Oriana answered honestly. 

“You want it to melt off you,” her sister responded, her voice flat. 

Oriana just shrugged. 

“I’ll sacrifice it. Return it to the mother,” she said softly. “It seems fair.”

And if the normal fire wouldn’t suffice…well, then she hoped that the eternal flame would be willing to lend a hand. 

“Why now?” 

“I waited for a century. I am not willing to wait any longer. ”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Her grandmother’s birthday celebration started with dinner and continued with dancing. 

Even Kiran came out of the forge at that, drinking too much sweet wine and having a grand old tie. 

And Oriana…well, she was happy that she got to dance. Even when the thoughts were crossing her mind of what she would be doing soon. As soon as the celebrations had started, when everybody was busy dancing…well. 

But right now she was enjoying herself. Right now, she was taking the opportunity to soak up the atmosphere and laugh when Toron twirled her around the floor. 

Or at least that had been the plan. 

But everybody knew what was said about best laid plans. 

She was twirled around by her brother, and then she suddenly wasn’t anymore, because the partners changed…and while it should have been Toron…well, Titus decided he should cut in. 

Which was just what Oriana needed. Not. 

Her former brother-in-law. He reminded her of Wynstan, a few inches taller, but the same dark hair, the same proud nose…

She could see her husband in his features, and somehow that was a specific kind of torture. 

“Oriana,” he greeted her, his voice cutting, even with just the simple word. 

“Titus,” she responded, forcing a smile on her face that hopefully looked like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. 

She was quite sure that she was failing. 

She tried to ignore the way his eyes trailed over her body, tried to ignore how the necklace heated in warning, and swallowed against it. 

She didn’t like this. Not at all. 

“You are still wearing it,” he said, his voice near mocking. 

“I am,” she agreed serenely. She was still wearing it. 

“You have been wearing it longer than the marriage was ever valid.” True. She was. “How does it feel to wear it when you are the one who killed it?”

Right.”

“How am I supposed to have killed him when it was his experiment?” she asked. 

She told herself that a lot over the years. It had been his experiment. He had been the one who had started it. 

She had just been…she had come in after it had already started. 

For years that’s what she had clung to. She had told herself that it was an accident. That Wynstan just hadn’t been careful enough. That it was a tragic accident and that if he had just been more careful, then it wouldn’t have needed to go down like that. 

And then…then she remembered every minute detail of what had gone down that day. 

 And she remembered…she remembered…she remembered how it should have killed her not him. How it had been supposed to kill her, not him. 

And how her own magic had responded, turning the flames away from herself and against him. 

His accident turned attempted murder, turned self-defence, turned…burning him to a crisp with all the might of magical fire that she had never pulled out of herself before…and hopefully never would again. 

“He made the mistake that cost his life. I was just caught in the crossfire.”

She said the words that she didn’t believe. The official version that people believed. 

“And you believe that?”” Titus hissed to her. 

She ignored that, ignored the stabbing pain somewhere in her chest region. It didn’t matter. 

“I believe that there is nothing I could have done differently,” she finally said, as she stepped back, as she finally could snatch back her hand from his grasp and get the hell away from him. 

She just knew that her eyes must be flaring, no longer the pitch black that she kept carefully pulled over them so that they didn’t terrify everybody that she met. 

The flames within her were flaring, licking out. 

Sometimes she could nearly feel it, the fire that she kept tightly leashed inside herself. 

Oh well, why not throw in some emotional turmoil when she was already at it? 

She shouldn’t have expected any differently. 

Sneaking out of the Grand Hall was easy, faeries too busy with the celebration to give her more than a second look. And even if they did, all they expected was for her to be tired and walk to her room and be done with it. 

She wasn’t. 

A part of her calmed as she walked further into the mountain. Down and down and down, right there into the middle, where the fire chamber resided. 

A circular room, deep into the mountains. And if one looked up when they stood inside it, one would be able to glimpse the night sky through the near tunnel-like opening at the top. 

The ground and walls were smooth through millennia of use, black and sooty. 

Opened the door, walked into the room, and closed it again. 

She was home. 

Regardless of where she lived, in the mountain or in Velaris, in her tiny apartment…there was one place that was always going to be her true home. 

And that were the flames flickering before her. 

Maybe it was because she had been born into their embrace. Maybe it was because like called to like and the fire within her recognised its kin. 

Maybe it was just her mind making it all up. 

But as she stood there, before the first ring of fire…she relaxed. 

It was the work of minutes as she pulled her dress over her head and left it carefully folded laying on one of the ledges in the wall, pulling off every bit of jewellery that she wore, the knives Azriel had given her…all of it. 

Until she was left in her wedding necklace and nothing else. 

She prodded off the shadow of her wrist. 

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she promised them quietly when they seemed to cling to her. 

Mistress, what are you doing? they asked her, their many voices intertwined in one. 

“I am going to take off my necklace,” she explained. “And for that, I need to walk into the fire. I don’t want you to get hurt in the flames. They won’t do anything to me, but I don’t know how they’ll react to you.”

They listened to her, but they still seemed anxious as they skittered away. 

It was going to be fine. 

She had thought about it. Nothing should happen. The fire should melt off the necklace, the enchantment would break, and all would be well. 

Oriana stared into the shadows for just a moment, feeling deep inside herself for that glowing string of fate, tied around her rib. She pushed all the love she had for Azriel into it. 

And then she turned and walked into the fire. 

At first, nothing happened. 

The first circle wasn’t even knee high as she breached it, but it immediately roared to life as she stepped through the boundary. 

Nearly playfully, the flames flicked along her skin, their heat a balm to her that not a lot of things would be able to replicate. 

She stood there for just a moment, waiting for the necklace to heat up, for the metal to grow molten and bendy. 

The outermost ring was the one they used for their ceremonies. The flames had been used to close the necklace in the first place. As a child, she had been passed through them at the blessing ceremony that came after her birth. She had walked through them when she had bled for the first time and became a woman in the eyes of her people. 

And she had been born into these flames like not many were. Her mother had chosen to give birth here, after a difficult pregnancy, hoping that this would mean that her child would be blessed. 

Oriana often wondered if that was the reason why her powers were as strong as they were. 

The flames that had seen her first minutes on the earth spilt upwards. 

But still, the necklace didn’t budge. 

She reached up, feeling the necklace heat up against her skin and she hissed as she felt that the fire was magical in nature. 

She didn’t have much time. 

Normal fire couldn’t hurt her, could hurt no Tartera. But Magical Fire was another question entirely. 

She had no other choice. 

She had hoped that the first ring would be enough, but she should have known that it wasn’t. 

She pushed herself through the next ring, and could nearly feel how that fucking necklace was already lashing out at her, her own magic turning against herself. 

Oriana had been so fucking stupid and now she was paying the prize for it. 

The heat kicked up so high that it was nearly making her nauseous 

Still nothing. 

Magic swirled around her as she clenched her teeth, as she tried to ignore the heat and the pain and the fear that wanted to grip her as she breached the third circle. 

This was too much. She shouldn’t have done this. She knew that. 

The heat was too much, the magic growing stronger in every consecutive circle. 

One didn’t simply walk through these circles. 

They protected the eternal flame within them and they were going to kill her if they judged her purpose to be anything but pure. 

And to be honest, it wasn’t pure.  It was desperate. 

I am sorry. I am sorry, she chanted desperately in her mind, hoping that this would be enough. Just the third circle. That needed to be enough. 

I can’t wear it anymore. I was stupid, but I just wanted to be free. When I made it, I just wanted to protect myself. I just didn’t want to be in the same situation again. I didn’t want to be bartered off. I just wanted to be safe…

She felt more than heard the magical crack. 

she forced her eyes open, even when the heat and pain of the necklace burning against her throat, seemingly making it impossible to breathe forced her against the stone floor, the fires of the third circle still burning around her. 

The Eternal Flame lit before her, in the very centre of the rings. 

Every Year, when it was time, the oldest of their people sacrificed themselves for its continued revival. Walked through the rings and never came back. 

The flame brought them into their afterlife, and in return, the magic of the donors wrapped itself around the mountain and the Tartera. 

Purely Magical. Eternally old. 

If Oriana petitioned it and it found her lacking, it would kill her. Or it would kill her anyway. 

Sometimes, very rarely. The Eternal Flame gifted a piece of itself to make it possible to forge something from it. 

Never enough for more than a single thing. Never given to anybody more than once. 

And now…now there she was, on her knees in front of it, and the necklace was going to kill her soon if she didn’t…

I want to be with my mate. 

I just want to be with him. 

Please. Please. Please. 

Please take it from me so I can be free. Please. I just want to be with him. I just want to love him. To cherish him. To protect him. 

She had been born into these flames. 

And so she reached out to them. 

They rushed up and up and up, the heat too much. 

They enveloped her once again like a favoured child. 

She gasped, tipping forwards, feeling the heat rush through her, feeling the magic of it punching through her, painless and quickly, her own enchantments not a single match to the powers of eternity. 

It pushed through every cell of her being, her own power feeling like kindling for it. 

And still…she wasn’t scared. 

The eternal flame was nothing more than gentle lickings of warmth against her skin, a roaring inferno to anybody else, white and blue as it took from her and melted away her necklace like it had never been there. 

She swore she could feel amusement coming from it as it cradled her close. 

“You are all my children after all, Little Flame.” the flame whispered to her and Oriana wished she could respond, but she couldn’t. “Love him. Cherish him. Protect him.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Do you guys have any stories where Derek is the alpha of the pack, but stiles is really the one in charge, like he's the alpha mate, or the emissary and every one listens to him.

Yeah.

To Find Your Home by adara

(1/1 I 14,905 I Teen)

The wind shifts just as he is is about to lay into the trespassers for disturbing this place, this private property, the place where Laura took her last breaths. Alone. The place he had come to look for his own clues in the daylight, to say goodbye to the only family he really had left. His breath catches for an altogether different reason when the shifted breeze reaches him. He stops thinking about Laura for a moment as his brain simply shuts down, taking in the sight of his mate before him.

The More That I Know You (the more I want to) by LadySlytherin 

(1/1 I 43,656 I Mature)

When death, in the form of hunters, comes for a family of Kelpies seeking refuge in the Preserve - in Hale territory - the Hale Pack is too late to save them. Before he dies, the male Kelpie presses a precious bundle into Stiles’ arms and begs the Emissary to take responsibility for it, which an initially reluctant Stiles does. When he agreed, Stiles had no idea what the sight of him with a baby would do to his esteemed Alpha, Derek. If he’d known, he might not have been so reluctant to agree.

Came For The Spark, Stayed For The Flame by orphan_account

(15/15 I 54,091 I Mature)

Derek felt the panic build up in his chest as Jezebel held out a hand. He smelled it before he saw it, because who could forget the scent of what destroyed your life? Fire and spark and smoke curled from Jezebel's hands, and the wood stacked at Stiles' feet flared up.

When Stiles and Derek get bonded as Emissary-and-Alpha, hidden attractions become a lot harder to hide, secrets are kept and secrets are surfaced, and an evil teenage girl is planning even more ritualistic sacrifice.

[the-antiapocalyptic-man]

Animal Man: Buddy Baker and a manifestation of the Great Red Beast, modeled off Buddy's chimera animal form from the Vertigo run

One thing I wanted to do early on when developing the headverse was tie together the various systems of the DC multiverse closer together, kinda of inspired with what James Robinson was trying to do near the beginning of Earth-2, but got lost under later writers. Robinson explicitly tied Alan's powers to The Green, with Will Power acting more as a conduit than an abstract green goo energy source unto itself.

I always wanted to do something similar with the Red Lanterns being tied to The Red (or the Morphogenetic Field) and specifically a figure that ended being underutilized in Earth-2, The Great Red Beast.

So in canon, The Great Red Beast ended up just being a transformed Yelena Montez, trapped in that state after accessing The Red. Since its a parallel universe, any relationship between The Beast and The Butcher (Earth-1/Earth-0's Red Lantern Entity) is never explicated upon. Which, to be fair, there's no look into whether Earth-2's other Light Spectrum Avatars have equivalents to Ion, Adara, Nekron, or the Life Entity, but The Beast is so similar its counterpart that it's a little strange not to dig into.

This is all to say I want to take that canon and shift it a bit so that Avatars of the Red are, in a way, a different group of Red Lanterns. Red Lanterns on a cosmic level all exist as extensions of Atros becoming Atrocitus and manipulating the narrative to make himself THE Red Lantern through which all others become tools of his rage, even as Red Lantern stories have shown characters like Bleez, Rankorr, and even Dex-Starr becoming more self-aware and operating independently of Atros' will.

Buddy, Vixen, Beast Boy, and to a degree even Wildcat (Ted, Yelena, and Tommy) all kind of exist as possible examples of another way to exist as Red Lanterns, with Brother Blood being the counterpoint that wants to embrace Atrocitus and his discipline.

idk I haven't typed out a big lore dump on one of these posts in a while and wanted to get some thoughts out and collected.

tl;dr Animal Man is a Red Lantern in my au

[ionlydrinkhotwater]

OK so I was thinking that when Luke confronts Adam about what happened between him and Elliot, based on what SRB said in the Tumblr answer, there is no hard evidence that Adam admitted to what exactly went down between he and Elliot. We know that Luke punched Adam because he insulted Elliot and teased him for his crush on Elliot (which he was still in denial about). After all if Luke did actually get the full story he would know that Elliots revulsion came from Adam disrespecting his boundaries and not homophobia and so he wouldn't have been so hesitant to come out to him.

Also based on his reaction to Elliot telling him his first kiss can be whatever he wants it to be and not when it was forced on him. Luke admits in his cabin that he interpreted it as an invitation, he also doesn't seem to grasp that Elliot meant this as coming from a sympathetic place. I don't think he would have misread it if he had context. I think once Elliot came out to him as bisexual it may have clued him in on Elliots anger towards Adam as more legitimate but I still don't think he knew what actually went down.

I also think Luke would not have felt as ashamed about punching Adam if he knew just how inappropriate he had been towards Elliot.

Like if they are all talking one day about first kisses and Luke grumpily brings up Adara and Elliot says that didn't have to count and Luke says that it technically does and Elliot says that by that reasoning his prick cousin was Elliots first kiss instead of Serene and he refuses to give Adam that honor and Lukes like

Luke: HE KISSED YOU?!

Elliot: I know that the Borderlands have limited information on consent but what part of my saying Adam sexually harassed me confused you? 😒

Queue Luke wishing he'd punched Adam even harder

[starlightrunesgang]

This new Undertale Au is created by our friend who created SubterLoved and her sister.

-**Au Name: SubrashyTale**

-**Story**:

In this Au, the story remains the same as Undertale, but with some significant differences.

The main difference is that the narrative is imbued with a sense of wonder and awe, exploring themes of discovery, personal growth and the power of optimism even in adverse circumstances.

-Underground locations: Are the same as in Undertale.

-**Routes of this au:**

- **Pacifist Route**: Frisk embarks on a journey to reconcile the monsters and humans of the underground, finding goodness in everyone and promoting peace.

In this route after the monsters are freed Frisk gives a small part of his soul to Alphys so that Alphys creates an artificial soul using that small part, that artificial soul is to bring back Adara.

Alphys, after creating that artificial soul, gives it to Frisk and, as mentioned before, Adara, thanks to that soul, returned to life.

- **Neutral Route**: Frisk makes mixed decisions, showing compassion but also facing moral and ethical challenges on their path.

- **Genocidal Route**: In this route Frisk faces the temptation to surrender to despair and darkness, fighting against the corruption of his own soul while killing all the monsters in the underground.

-**The Human Souls of this Au and the deaths of the 6 human souls of this Au:**

**Kindness**: A girl who always seeks to help others, with a generous and compassionate heart.

She died helping a monster and fell into the lava in Hotland.

**Integrity**: A girl who values honesty and consistency in all her actions.

She died because of Undyne in a battle against her.

**Justice**: A girl who strives to do the right thing and stand up for fairness and equality.

She died defending Burgerpants from Mettaton.

**Perseverance**: A child who never gives up in the face of obstacles, always fighting to achieve his goals.

He died lost in Gerson.

**Patience**: A calm and serene girl, capable of waiting the necessary time to achieve her goals.

She died waiting for Toriel in the ruins.

**Bravery**: A brave and determined child, willing to face any challenge with determination.

He died due to a confrontation with Sans when leaving the ruins.

**Determination**: Those who possess the soul of determination are: Frisk and Adara.

Frisk the eighth human soul and Adara the first human soul.

-**Biography of Frisk and Chara/Elisse from this Au:**

**Frisk:**

- **Appearance**: She is a little girl, with brown hair and bright blue eyes.

- **Outfit**: She wears a very light blue and pink striped sweater, blue shorts, and brown shoes.

- **Personality**: Frisk is innocent and curious, always willing to see the best in others and find creative solutions to problems.

**Chara/Elisse:** In this Au Chara her name is: Elisse and she is the youngest and biological daughter of the kings of the monsters: Asgore and Toriel.

- **Appearance**:

She is a a little monster girl, with blonde hair and light yellow eyes.

- **Attire**: She dresses in royal clothes, but also wears a heart-shaped brooch that Frisk gave her.

She also often dresses in a very light yellow long-sleeved shirt, wears a light blue skirt with the Delta Rune on one side of the skirt, white stockings and the skirt has a flower design, and wears pink shoes.

- **Personality**: Although initially reserved, Chara opens up to Frisk and becomes their confidant and close friend, showing a fierce determination to protect those she loves.

She is kind and friendly and has a personality similar to that of her brother Asriel.

-**New Unique Character of this Au - "Adara" (playing the role of Chara)**:

**Who is Adara?**:

She is the first of the humans who have fallen into the Underground after climbing Mount Ebott.

She is a little girl that Toriel and Asgore adopted when they fell into the Underground, and therefore, adoptive sister of Asriel Dreemurr and Chara/Elisse Dreemurr.

Her, at the end of the Genocide Route is the desire to acquire STATS (LOVE, PE, attack, defense, etc.).

- **Personality**:

She is brave and determined, but she also keeps a secret that could change the fate of the underground. Like Chara in the original Undertale story, she plays a crucial role in the development of the story in this Au.

She also has the same personality as Chara from Undertale but she is a kind and good person.

- **Appearance**:

She is a little girl who bears an incredible resemblance to this Au's Frisk, mostly in the "choice of clothing".

Her SOUL is "red" in the same way as Frisk since her soul, like Frisk and soul, is determination.

She has heterochromia, meaning her eyes are a different color.

She has rosy cheeks.

His hair is black with yellow lines and bright blue and yellow eyes full of mystery.

- **Outfit**:

She is wearing a very light yellow and pink striped sweater, light blue shorts, and brown shoes.

[jackoshadows]

In general while a lot of the fandom sympathizes with the Starks and wants to see them prevail and succeed in the end, GRRM has always grouped Dany in along with the rest of the underdogs, sees her as a sympathetic character and identifies with her struggles.

2003 interview with GRRM (After ASoS):

Shaw: You created Jon as a bastard and an outcast from the get-go. Yet he's also one of the most attractive characters. Did you choose to make Jon a bastard to make him more attractive as an "underdog," or was his bastard birth central to the shaping of his character itself? Martin: Almost all the characters have problems in some way. Very few of my major viewpoint characters have all the answers or have an easy path through life. They all have burdens to bear. Some of them are women in a society that doesn't necessarily value women or give them a lot of power or independence. Tyrion of course is a dwarf which has its own challenges. Dany is an exile, powerless, penniless, at the mercy of other people, and Jon is a bastard. These things shape their characters. Your experiences in life, your place in life inevitably is going to change who you are.

Old Asimovs.com interview (link currently broken)

Jon Snow has me in him, and Sam Tarly. The women too, Lyanna and Shaara, and the girls, Arya and Adara … Daenerys Stormborn, searching for that house with the red door. And Tyrion Lannister? Oh, yes. The Imp is me in spades, the horny little bastard.”

Youtube interview

“I had a walk past that house every day on my way from the projects on 1st Street to 5th Street, and it’s like, well, that used to be our dock, that used to be our house. Now we don’t have a house, we don’t have a yard, but I had always had the sense of, yeah I’m poor, but I come from royalty, or I come from greatness that somehow was destroyed by the depression, by corrupt politicians, by things like that. So maybe that gives me a little of the emotional temperament to understand somebody like Daenerys Targaryen.

There was a watchman on the dock, though, and if he saw us he’d come out of his shed and shout at us. "Get out of here, you kids,” he’d yell. “You got no business here.” Yes, I do, part of me always wanted to shout back, you’re the one who’s got no business, my great-grandfather BUILT this dock.

This theme of fallen families is one that made it directly into A Song of Ice and Fire, George explained, in the characters Daenerys and Viserys Targaryen. With that same feeling of loss of a future, wondering about the family he never knew and their upper class lifestyles, he felt like disinherited royalty much like the two Targaryen siblings. When Dany reads about Westeros in the books she received from her wedding, or when Barristan told her stories about her brother Rhaegar, or she lands in Dragonstone and walks in her family’s home those are actually George wondering about his own family and dreaming of a better life stolen from him in the projects of Bayonne.

Also,

[detectivemarvelingcomics]

since rereading nycv i cant help but wonder about the miracle trio’s (y/n, alex, carter) other adventures prior to the main story. like maybe their time in the knight academy something before they rise up to their current ranks or something more lighthearted and slice of life like a vacation trip. overall i really like their dynamics with each other along with eva and nixon! i just wish we can see more of it

Honestly I was considering writing in some of their backstory! OCs are a little risky considering I know y'all are here for the batfam but if enough of you are down I'm down to write more in! I'll leave a little snippet here from my random musings and a lil poll cuz why not!

~

"Wayne!"

"You didn't see me," your voice was stern while walking past Alex, disappearing into the Armory as quick as you had arrived. Alex could only shrug and swing the sword in his hands.

"Wright, have you seen Wayne?" The Commander's voice is stern and, at the corner of his eye, Alex sees the door to the armory shut.

"No, why?" He answers.

"She's skipping out on drills again," he grumbles. "I swear, she comes running down one day determined to be stronger and now I can't find the kid anywhere," he rubs the back of his head harshly. "Even Adara hasn't seen her. That's new, the three of you are usually attached at the hip," he shakes his head.

"Even I get tired of them," Alex chuckles. "I'll let her know you're looking for her if I run into her."

"Let her know I'm in the office," the Commander nods before leaving the training grounds. The armory door opens slightly and you walk out slowly.

"He's gone?"

"Yup. What's going on with you?"

"It's been nonstop dawn to dusk drills... I think my limbs are about to fall off again."

"Dear god, we can't have that."

~

[leggywillow]

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age (Video Games) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Carver Hawke/Female Surana, Anders/Female Hawke Characters: Female Surana, Female Warden, Female Hawke, Carver Hawke, Male Trevelyan, Anders, Nathaniel Howe, Original Grey Warden Character(s) Additional Tags: Warden Carver Hawke, Grey Warden Secrets, Mage-Templar Dynamics, The Taint, Established Relationship, Additional Tags to Be Added Series: Part 3 of The Mistakes of Men and Monsters Summary:

After (supposedly) killing Corypheus alongside her partner Carver Hawke, Warden Adara Surana is determined to cure the Taint that dooms them to an early grave. When Anders blows up the Kirkwall Chantry, however, her plans are thrown into chaos. Carver rushes to Kirkwall to help his sister, Champion Vivian Hawke. With a startling new surprise of her own, Adara rushes after him.

Templar Dacre Trevelyan is lost and grieving. He’s determined to drag Anders to Starkhaven to face justice, and he’s willing to go through Vivian Hawke—and anyone else—to do it. He crosses path with Adara Surana instead. It’s kind of a disaster.

This is Part 3 of Warden Surana’s story, but I’m doing my best to make it standalone. Planned POVs from Adara Surana, Dacre Trevelyan, and Carver Hawke.

Chapter 3 is up! :D

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[legofanguy]

LGBT Pride Labrys

A LGBT story that is a entry for @thepromptfoundry Pride and Promptudice prompt Labrys. This story focus on the origins of labryes as a weapon in Ancient Greek and as a symbol for lesbian feminism in modern times.

In Ancient Greek, two warrior women train using the doubled blade axe known as a labrys. One woman dodge the attack of her partner and said to her, "You left yourselves open, Adara." and swing her axe, which Adara dodges and tackle her partner down to the dirt floor and said to her partner, "So did you, Polyxeni." The women lock eyes with each other and then laugh before Adara give Polyxeni a kiss on the lips. Adara got up and then help her lover up from the ground. As the two lesbians walk home, Polyxeni comment, "These labryes are more suited for men than women like us."

In the 20th century and at a Pride Parade in New York City, a brown hair lesbian named Lisa wave a flag with a labrys on it and her nervous girlfriend Belle ask Lisa, "Hey babe, don't you think that people are going to get the wrong idea about this flag." and Lisa reply, "Come on, Belle, this got to show our pride. I'm sure that amazons used this weapon in the ancient past."

[sarahreesbrennan]

Hi Sarah, I'm so excited to see your upcoming release. (Villainess deserve representation too!) I was rereading Love From Both Sides for the dozenth time - as one does - and I was wondering if you had any plans for a spin off with Adara and Natalie? Their story has so many uncharted possibilities, I'm dying to know more. And relatedly, we're gasping out here for more sapphic media that goes as hard as your work does 🥺

I'm sorry if this has been asked and answered before, I couldn't find anything in your archives. Thanks again for writing In Other Lands, a precious and rare delight. I hope you're having the bestest day with at least one friendly nuzzle from a puppy

Hey my love, Never be sorry for asking anything! This world is bettered by the questioners, and it’s a great compliment to me that you care.

As regards Adara and Natalie specifically, I couldn’t tell you. I’d love to write more in the In Other Lands world (about which more later) - but whether I could do a short story or a series of books would obviously change my answer. It’s not entirely up to me, but I definitely do have plans for Adara. She’s a foil for Elliot, and the kind of character I really like - one who I see treated shallowly in other media, when few people really are shallow. If there’s too much skimming the surface, I long to explore the depths. And with the depths come adventures. Thank you for your care!

I also thank you for being excited for Long Live Evil. Villains and villainesses do definitely deserve representation, and have long been beloved by me because they’re often complicated, witty because they see the world differently, and queer-coded. I was also thinking when writing it about the different ways audiences can come to a story, and using the same evidence how different people presume characters are (for example) straight or bisexual. And often the ending will be very uniformly heterosexual. But if you go into the story, and change its direction… Are the things you presumed true? Are the things characters presumed about themselves true? Would certain subtexts surface, and certain texts submerge? How do we influence art by engaging with it? Anyway, I am categorically not making any promises because that’s got me in trouble before. But it’s an ensemble story (I was inspired by the group dynamics and relationships, all given weight, of Leigh Bardugo’s Six of Crows) and these are some of my preoccupations when writing it. I hope you shall find much to enjoy.

In the meantime, if you seek sapphic media that goes hard, and Sappho knows we all do… The Jasmine Throne and the Oleander Sword by Tasha Suri - this series is a huge favourite of mine - and not just mine, it won the World Fantasy award. Its central f/f pairing features one party holding the other at knifepoint for fine reasons and they have a brilliant dynamic based on understandably conflicting ideologies and complicated family situations! I love it.

Thank you for a delight of a letter and your kind words. I write this being yelled at by a cat for skritches, which is pleasant as puppies. I wish you a beauteous day with animal companions of choice, with apologies I couldn’t answer more definitively!

[owlart18]

Alternate universe fun with Balder’s Gate 3! Part 3 of my Au Oc challenge | Part 2 | Part 1

(The Blue Kingdom Original Story, For Board Games, Warrior Cats, Wildfrost, + Balder’s Gate 3)

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December Underglade of The Fae Underworld | December Underglade, caretaker of creatures | Plumpatch of Thunderclan | Shademancer Drorook

Adara the half wood elf rogue + guardian | Nyx the mephistopheles tiefling sorcerer | December the seldarine drow druid | Mapletail the asmodeus tiefling ranger | Starloom the zariel tiefling paladin

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Speedpaint

(Commission info here | MapleStickerShop)

Au forms complied for art fight refs: