#mural of constellations

[nelkcats]

Ice Crystal

When Clark was exploring the fortress of solitude he found murals of a teenage boy on the ice walls. He frowned and followed the drawings to a room he had never visited.

That was odd, so he approached cautiously; it turned out, the room was empty beyond the drawings adorning the walls, which oddly looked like constellations. In the center was an ice table with a crystal glowing toxic green hovering over it.

At first, the Kryptonian thought it was Kryptonite but the crystal hadn't made him feel weak. In general, it didn't make him feel anything. He frowned and took the crystal in his hands, beyond causing him to feel cold nothing happened. He decided to put the crystal back where it was, determined to investigate it later.

Unbeknownst to Clark, a few minutes after he left the room the crystal began to flicker. A "Hello?" was heard around the room as a confused hologram flashed, Danny looked around the place with a frown before cutting the call.

Of course, Clark forgot about it rather quickly, and it wasn't until years later when Jon and Kon were exploring the place (clearly without telling Clark) that they found the strange room. Though contrary to Superman, they stayed and could hear the voice clearly.

[papiliotao]

꒰ 𝒂 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✩࿐

pairing: lyney x gn!reader

content: fluff, modern au, high school au, friends to (almost) lovers, mutual pining, theatre kids, lyney and the reader rehearse a kissing scene

summary: playing the role of his lover in a drama production is easier said than done, especially when you’re just beginning to realize the nature of your feelings for him.

a/n: i had no inspiration for a while but then lyney came along. i’m so normal about him. anyway, i hope you enjoy reading!

When you were told that you had to kiss your best friend for a school play, you were in shock and disbelief — not because you were repulsed by the thought of playing the part of a couple, but because you realized that you didn’t mind the idea of his lips pressed against yours.

You’re not quite sure when the feelings crept up on you, dawning in your heart like the hazes of peach and azure that dust the horizon at sunrise. It feels like it’s been an eternity since you started loving Lyney, but you’ve just never noticed that your adoration was beyond platonic. 

However, after experiencing your epiphany, you’ve been wondering if he shares your rose-tinted sentiments. Slowly but surely, you observe that the lines between friendship and romance have become blurred, fusing together in a myriad of watercolour hues.

Every once in a while, Lyney will hold your hand for no reason, the softness of his skin akin to the caress of gilded threads of sunlight. There are also instances where he’ll hug you for just a little too long, clinging onto you as if he never wants to let go. And of course, you’ll never be able to forget the sentimental nights spent gazing up at murals of sparkling constellations dotting pristine navy skies, where you cuddle with your best friend in an attempt to stay warm.

In these instances, a simple question lingers in the short silences, an untold inquiry that neither of you care to utter in fear of shattering the status quo.

What are we?

So now, as you sit across from Lyney atop the velvety cushions of his living room couch, ready to rehearse very kiss that sent you spiraling into a bout of infatuated hysteria in the first place, your heart can’t help but race. The melody it sings is one that speaks of perplexing feelings and a hope for fairytale endings, and it only amplifies as you look into pale violet eyes that sparkle as iridescent petals flutter about in their depths.

“I’m ready whenever you are,” Lyney whispers, smiling at you reassuringly. There’s something soothing about the expression on his face, embodying the serenity of a marine zephyr in the midst of a cruel summer.

“How can you be so calm when we’re about to practice a kiss?” you ask, voicing your thoughts out loud. “What if we’re not good enough?”

Truthfully, you’re a nervous wreck. Your fingers tremble, and your mind feels blank. You’ve always known that Lyney was born to be on stage, but you didn’t think he’d be so nonchalant in a situation like this. His disposition is completely composed, not a single spark of anxiety shining through his tranquil demeanour.

On the other hand, you’re constantly pondering the what ifs.

What if you mess the scene up? What if it turns out looking awkward? What if it’s so horrendous that it makes the audience uncomfortable.

However, in total contrast to you, Lyney simply chuckles, his voice ringing out in a clear and soothing fantasia.

“Don’t worry,” he reassures you, keeping his gaze fixated on you. “I’m sure our chemistry will be absolutely perfect. After all, even Lynette has mistaken us for a couple.”

“She has?” you blurt out, both shocked and embarrassed that Lyney’s twin has had her misconceptions about your relationship. The two are practically telepathically linked, so the tall order of fooling Lynette would more or less be akin to deceiving the heavens above.

“She has,” Lyney confirms, a mischievous spark of violet electricity blazing through his irises, “and that’s why I’m certain we’ll be able to pull this off flawlessly.”

He gently laces his fingers around your hand, bringing it up to his chest.

“Besides, it’s not like I’m not nervous at all.” From beneath the soft fabric of Lyney’s clothes, you can feel a gentle thrumming, a beat that resounds at a tempo matching that of your very own heart. “You know, even the greatest of performers get stage fright sometimes.”

In a mystifying twist, you feel more comfortable now that Lyney has told you that you’re not alone in your anxiousness. Your relief defies all logic, but perhaps it’s the knowledge that your feelings aren’t entirely unreasonable that soothes your nerves.

“I see,” you whisper. “Well I’m sure you’ll do great. We’ll get through this together.”

Lyney nods.

“I’m just glad it’s you,” he says, pausing for a moment as if deep in thought. “Actually, ‘glad’ would be an understatement. ‘Beyond overjoyed’ is more accurate.”

Your breath hitches, and for a second, the world seems to still, suspended in a momentary utopia. But despite your giddiness and the euphoric feelings that arise in your heart, you shrug Lyney’s words off, trying your best not to get your hopes up. After all, if you expect too much, you might find yourself disappointed in the end.

“The feeling is mutual. Although maybe we should get to rehearsing now. I think I’m ready,” you tell him, pulling your hand out of his grasp in a light motion, clinging on to the last of his warmth as his skin grazes yours. It’s reminiscent of fading sunlight comforting you with the dazzling radiance of a dying crepuscule, lulling you into a daze as it causes shades of twilight to waltz in a dance of fantastical wonders.

“Your wish is my command,” Lyney responds playfully.

However, after only a few seconds, his features shift into a more serious expression. Although the same smile adorning his lips, it’s softer now, more sincere.

Is this all part of an act, or is it real?

Additionally, an unidentifiable emotion now glints in a display of diamond lights, illuminating the seas of amethyst contained within Lyney’s eyes. Locks of platinum hair, composed of starlight essence, frame his face in a way that makes him look undeniably handsome. Once again, your heart, which had just barely stilled, begins to beat in a frenzy.

You want nothing more than to freeze time, stay in this ephemeral moment, relish in the sensation of his breath gently tickling your skin and engrave the ethereal sight before you into archives stored deep within your memories. But unfortunately, it’s impossible to pause the scene before you. Reality, unlike the countless movies and videos you’ve watched to study your part, stops for no one.

And before you know it, the divide between your lips and Lyney’s is diminishing, the blank space fading at a pace that feels both far too rapid yet far too prolonged at the same time.

Closer.

Closer.

And closer.

Until your lips meet in a clash of opalescent sparks, shedding light and embellishing the magical moment with an atmosphere worthy of any stage. The lilac butterflies that dance in the pit of your stomach prompt sensations of glee to arise within your heart.

His skin is soft and warm, and the feeling of his lips against yours is just so right. There’s no one else you’d rather kiss. There’s no one else you’ll ever long for. There’s no one in the world you’ll ever love more.

No matter how much you deny it, your relationship has crossed the line from platonic to romantic, gradually edging closer and closer to a thin border before finally falling over onto the other side. Your kiss with Lyney confirms everything. There’s far too much passion, far too much care and longing exchanged in a single act of affection.

Best friends don’t kiss each other like this.

At this point you’re certain the feeling is mutual. Now, all you have to do is wait until one of you inevitably confesses, and you’ll both be able to finally live happily ever after, basking in the splendor of true love.

thank you for reading <3 if you enjoyed this fic, i would really appreciate it if you could comment or reblog!

[purplealmonds]

Continuing to fire on all cylinders to make this Sky 🤝Mononoke collab a reality! 🐲⚖️🌊

Process GIFs and artist commentary below the cut. ⬇️

Left: Process GIF Middle: Just the background, cos I really like how it looks! Right: Illustration without the collab logo

And here are my notes on my inspirations and references. There's a lot of 'em, so instead of embedding relevant images one by one I put them in a callout sheet! For accessibility, I also included transcript (with bonus ramblings) below each sheet.

Ofuda circle modeled in Google Sketchup 2017, then lightly transformed in Photoshop to flare out. I tried my best to hand-draw these, but it the results came out really clunky and stiff. I figured if Mononoke shamelessly utilizes 3D in their show, I can too!

Krill and sky kid composition roughly inspired by the Ayakashi DVD cover illustration. On the surface level, the krill's black-and-red color scheme mirrored that of the bake-neko. Not to mention, in the world of Sky, the krill would be the best fit of a mononoke-like entity. The red background is also a nod to the red skies seen during a shard eruption in Sky.

Sky kid gesture based on the Festival Spin Dancer's Tier 3 poses and the Medicine Seller's iconic pose in the Zakishiwarahi episode as inspiration. This was the idea which springboarded this illustration into existence. I wanted to do my take of the Medicine Seller's pose, but in a more dynamic manner: rotate the pose to a profile position and set the ofuda in a diagonal, flared out arrangement.

Cape inspired by tenbin design featured in the 2024 Mononoke movie. This one's an interesting one - I wanted the cape to be a stiff material that doesn't "flap" when in flight - similar to the Aurora wing capes. It ended up looking like a kite of sorts, which I'm not entirely opposed to! I haven't had the opportunity to showcase the back view of this cape design, but I envision it having some mechanical aspects to it - the "wing" which are flared out in this illustration fold in like moth wings, and a little bell is attached to the "tail" part and it jingles a little whenever the sky kid flaps!

Bandana is based on the Scaredy Cadet's hairstyle from the Season of Assembly. Mask design utilizes the 2023 Days of Style mask and the Nintendo Pack mask as bases. Pretty self-explanatory. I basically went onto the Sky wiki and found the cosmetics that most closely matched what I was looking for. Then if necessary, I went to the Office space to do photoshoots to get the appropriate camera angles for them all.

Seasonal pendant inspired by the classic Medicine Seller's necklace and the eye motif featured in the 2024 Mononoke movie. Possibly the only one-to-one homage to the classic Medicine Seller design here, but his garnet necklace was too good of a match to the seasonal pendant. A side tangent: does the new Medicine Seller possess a necklace, let alone a mirror? So far all the shots of him don't feature it. Fascinating.

Dark dragon krill anatomy references a custom figurine crafted by @/escaflowne_n07 on Twitter. Until I found this, I was honestly at a loss finding reference for this - be it on the internet or during in-game photoshoots. The lighting on the krill in-game focused on its menacing silhouette rather than its structure. And not to mention, getting a close-up shot almost always set off the dark creature's aggro. I have no idea how this guy found the references to put this model together - well done!

Mantas, elder constellations, and sun dog references murals in the Cave of Prophecy. Krill aside, the overall illustration was leaning a little too much towards Mononoke so I tried finding opportunities to insert more Sky into it. Added bonus is that now there's storytelling in the background: during a shard eruption, a giant krill rises from the frothing waves of dark water to hunt down a flock of mantas.

Clouds behind the sun dog reference the ones featuring heavily in the Umibozu episode. This illustration has a lot of ocean theming, so I figured this would be appropriate.

Rendering style of the background is lightly inspired by the 2007 Mononoke illustration. Mainly having a 2D inked style to contrast with the more polished render of the sky kid. Funnily enough, this was a tertiary inspiration, which lead to the discovery in the next point!

Dark water waves and sun dog composition heavily references Hokusai's "The Great Wave". The waves were modified to be bottle-green of the Golden Wasteland's dark waters. The sun dog is in the spot where Mt. Fuji is in the original composition. these were all hand-drawn by the way! I merely emulated the style of the source material. As a side note, I also borrowed the spotted sea spray rendering for the krill's red spotlight.

Background pattern taken from the ofuda design featured in the 2024 Mononoke movie poster. Mainly to add some gritty texture to the sky. I worked pretty hard to replicate this ofuda design as a high-res asset so I wanted to use it more!

[fangsandfracturedhearts]

Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Chapter 10: Soulbound

Summary: You helped Astarion complete the Rite of Profane Ascension and become the Vampire Ascendant. You agreed to become his spawn soon after. Once the Netherbrain was defeated, Astarion claimed the Szarr Palace, renaming it the Crimson Palace, for himself and set about his plans of domination.

Word Count: 6.9k

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn

Warnings: [Will try to continue to add more, but in general expect explicit content for mature audiences]

Possible spoilers. Eventual Explicit Content. Slow Burn. Thoughts of Suicide. Violence. Blood. Injury. Mature Content. Self-Harm. Mentions of in-game content. Completely fabricated camp events.

If you notice a very critical tag missing, please don't hesitate to let me know

Rating: Explicit 18+ - [Meant For Mature Audience}

Your fingers twitch and knead against satiny textiles as wakefulness begins to return you to existence. A lightheaded daze shrouds your vision as your eyes crack open. The canopy of your four-poster bed suspends above you. The drapery is embroidered beautifully with stars, constellations, moons in all phases, and soaring dragons, all revolving around the central sun. In this dream-like state, the depictions seem to move, playing out their destinies against the indigo astral sea as shadows gambol over the extravagant fabric. It would be enchanting if it were not making your head spin uncomfortably.

As you squeeze your eyes shut, your fingers clench and twist the fabric beneath you, and a feeble whine sighs from your lips. Your tongue feels numb and lazy, sagging in your mouth uselessly, and your body feels as fuzzy and impotent as your blurred vision.

“You are awake.”

Astarion’s voice grates at the inception of your consciousness, and you recoil as much as your bloodless body will allow. You still feel his hand around your neck, squeezing tight, halting the pleas in your throat as his fangs sawed at your neck, ripping and tearing the soft flesh. You tumble off the edge of the bed in your panic, and his hands break your fall.

He’s touching you. Hells, he’s touching you, and you want, nay need, him to fucking stop lest you suffocate.

“Don’t touch me,” you sob with a croak, flinging your hands up to protect yourself from further harm, palms heating as your magic surges. “Please. Gods. Don’t touch me.”

Astarion’s hands jerk away, and you shudder while trying to breathe. The stabbing pain in your throat is intolerable, fresh tears springing to your eyes, and your fingers tentatively prod the tender flesh. You don’t need a mirror to know that your skin is revoltingly bruised, a hemorrhaging mural composed by his wrath, and you whimper at the contact of your fingertips. The muscles in your arms and legs still feel like gelatin. They wobble weakly as you push yourself into a corner, hugging your knees to your chest.

“Darling-” Astarion’s hands are poised near you as if he might be able to stop the inevitable crumbling if only he could find the right place to brace it.

“Leave me alone.” You choke out grimly, swallowing the pain caused by your gruff inflection.

“It’s me,” he says, small and shaky.

You need time to think, to regain your composure, and you cannot do it with his eyes on you, his voice repeating your name like a prayer and his hands trying to find where your pieces are weakest so he can give them strength.

“Get out!” You wail despite the barbaric sting that causes more tears to rain out of your eyes. “Get the fuck out!”

“I… Yes, of course. As you wish.” Astarion stutters hesitantly as if he’s not sure if he will heed your commands. The door hinges creak as he closes it behind him, “I’m sorry,” he breathes with a sigh. “Truly.”

Like an ancient ruin that can no longer persevere against the ravages of time, you let yourself collapse and crumble.

The overbearing walls of the Crimson Palace wash over him in waves as he roams through them in a stupor. His fingertips drag across the chilled panels as he tries to orient himself. It feels like he’s waking from a nethermost trance, and his alertness has not fully recovered.

He dives for the desk when he enters the study. It’s full of papers and ledgers in neat piles, and he grabs at parchment chaotically, sending it scattering, sheets fluttering to the ground around him. His eyes scan the documents as he shuffles through them quickly. All in his hand, signature, name, but he does not recall any of this. He tosses sheet after sheet to the side until he finds one with a date.

Eight months.

Eight months of nonexistence. Of something walking around wearing his skin, using his name, speaking in his voice, imitating him.

Where the fuck has he been all this time?

He slams his hands on the desk. It cracks and caves in, regurgitating its contents to the floor. He frowns, takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. Her voice still reverberates, an echo in his mind, as she said goodbye in a hauntingly melodic timbre.

Why did she leave him?

Dashing through the halls, the floor mocks him in creeks and groans for his heavy steps. He pushes all the doors open as he progresses further into the palace until he finds what must be his room. Opening the wardrobes and dressers, he tosses his clothing haphazardly to the floor, detached from his typical compulsion for fastidiousness.

Nothing. Not a single article of clothing and none of her possessions are here. Why?

His heart pounds as he jogs through the palace until he catches her scent at the top of the dark staircase leading down into a murky darkness – the old spawn quarters.

No. This cannot be, surely. He wouldn’t. Right?

He bounds down the stairs, 2 or 3 steps at a time, until he comes to a slightly ajar door in the hallway with a lock that he does not recall being there. The pads of his shaky fingers stroke the cool metal, and he swallows the lump balling in his throat.

This has to be a nightmare. This cannot be real.

The door whines when he pushes it and peers into the room. It smells strongly of Jasmine, Honeysuckle and Vanilla - it smells like her. Astarion staggers in and throws open the simple wardrobes and chests, breaking the doors off some of them in his haste.

She left everything, which can only mean one thing - she fled.

What has he done?  

“Lord Ancunin?”

Good Gods, he’s come to loathe that singsong voice like nails on a chalkboard, and the back of his throat tickles as it hauls him away from his reflections.

“Elowyn,” he sneers spitefully, crinkling his nose in disgust. “How many times must we have this discussion? If this disobedience persists, I may have to reconsider our little agreement. I have no need for a spawn that cannot follow simple orders.”

The lie rolls off his tongue, smooth and modulated with the hint of a threat. Elowyn wishes to be given the gift of eternal life, and she’s idiotic and vain enough to believe he would ever grant her such a thing, but it is a simple enough falsity to keep her happy and submissive.

“I beg your forgiveness, Master.” Elowyn whimpers, dropping to her knees with her hands clasped in her lap, “It won’t happen again.”

“Good girl. Be sure it doesn’t, or you will force me to teach you another lesson.” He drawls unenthusiastically while staring at his nails. Threatening her brings him no pleasure. He finds it all a rather tedious business. “Now, I did not come here to chitchat. Araj, tell me what you have discovered.”

Araj glares at him with her arms crossed. The Drow has much more spirit and is more arduous to keep in line than her counterpart.

“Hungry, Lord?” Araj quips and leans her head to the side with an egregious grin. “You are considerably ill-tempered today. There’s always a neck here available for the biting if you were so inclined.”

“You can offer all you wish,” he snaps, rolling his eyes. “The answer will be no until the end of time. You disgust me.”

“Such harsh words for an old friend.” Araj pouts sarcastically before launching into the excuses he’s already heard. “Your blood is not easy to work with. It’s volatile and eats through everything like caustic acid.”

“You brought me here to tell me of more failure?” He snarls, baring his teeth. He considers killing them both. Their tests have gotten him nothing and no closer to understanding what’s wrong with him, but there is at least one more answer he seeks before he can do away with them. “And the sun immunity?”

“It’s hard to say,” Araj shrugs. “Why the sudden interest in the sun resistance? I thought we were here to see what your blood may be capable of, not to waste our time trying to bottle useless effects. Why would you need a potion to make you invulnerable? You are already immune.”

“What yourself, Araj,” he growls threateningly, his brows knitting together in a fierce scowl that casts shadows over his eyes. “You are under my employ. I get to decide what’s useful to me and what isn’t. You will do as instructed.”

“Of course, my Lord,” Araj smirks. “If this is about that lovely spawn of yours, it may be prudent to allow us access to her blood.”

He’s out of his chair before Araj can blink, slamming her against the wall with one dagger to her throat and the other pressed harshly to her abdomen.

“If you touch her, I will liberate your vile innards from your body. Then, I will hunt down your family, lovers, and friends, turn them into my obedient meat puppets and let them rot away in my dungeon for eternity. She is off-limits. You are to go nowhere near her. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” Araj swallows hard, her eyes wide with fear. “Perhaps you might consider an alternative? Turn Elowyn, and we can use her blood for testing instead.”

Throwing his head back, he laughs loudly, making both women jump, “You do not give the hound a bone until it has won the race. Find another way.”

He releases Araj, sheathing his daggers, and stalks away.

Araj’s voice stops him, “Elowyn tells me you’re refusing to give her more samples. We cannot run further tests without it.”

“No.” She would not want him to do this, and he has failed her enough for one day, “You will get no more samples from me until you have done as I ask. The next time you request an audience with me, you better have results, Araj, or there will be consequences.”

“Is that a threat?” Araj spits harshly.

“My dear,” he drawls nonchalantly. With a subtle movement, a dagger hurtles through the air and embeds into the wall so close to Araj’s neck that the shiny steel pets her skin. He looms over Araj, forcing her to arch her back while he hauls the dagger from the wall, “It’s a fucking promise.”

There’s an odd beauty to darkness, an inky void that obscures your surroundings and allows you to delude yourself into believing the elixir of lies you pour into your soul. In it, you can pretend, if only for a moment, that you are not a prisoner of your past and your sins are rendered null as they circle like vultures smothered by the shadows.

So, you lay in the jet-black abyss. Even as your bones begin to rue the rigid floor, and your eyes can shed no more tears, you lay unmoving.

Astarion sits beside you on the floor with his back pressed flat against the wall. He hasn’t uttered so much as a syllable since he settled there hours ago. When you look into his eyes, you see mayhem, starlight and darkness, treading the edge between diabolical and divine. He is a devil cloaked in the skin of an angel with blood dripping from his eyes, but Gods, you’ll ignite the world and walk across the hot coals of its remains if it means preserving the light in him.

You’re a warrior. When life threatens you with a battle, you will awaken every monster, every dragon, every demon that slumbers within you and answer with bloodshed.

You’ve wallowed in your self-pity long enough. A war awaits, and you intend to win it or die trying.

Crawling into his lap, Astarion wraps his arms around you. One of his hands comes to the back of your head, and his cheek presses tightly to yours as you slip your arms around his neck.

And Gods, it feels like heaven to be held in the arms of hell.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes next to your ear while he sweeps your hair away from your neck. His fingers shake as they brood over the bruised skin and gnarled, coin-sized holes that his fangs left. “Fuck. I’m so sorry.”

You press your hand against his, flat palm to palm. His hand dwarfs yours, “It’s okay.”

Astarion scoffs while his fingers interlock with yours, “It is most certainly not okay. I very nearly drained you dry, and who in the Hells knows what I would have done with you afterward!” His voice is unsteady, labouring beneath misery, “I will take you back to Shadowheart and Gale come morning. We can continue your lessons until you can feed yourself. Once that is accomplished, our business will be concluded, and you will never have to see me again. Freedom, as much as I am willing to grant you, is yours.”

Your eyes distend, and your brows pull down. Astarion is granting you the freedom you want. You should be happy, ecstatic even. So, why does it fill you with dread?

“Is that what you want?” You choke out, faint and tuneless, and pray to any God that hasn’t turned their back on you that his answer is not yes. “You want me to leave?”

“No, little love,” he finally answers in an eerily, delicate baritone after too many agonizing minutes of silent contemplation. “I am selfish as I always have been, perhaps even more since the Rite. Of course, I do not wish you to go, but you are not safe with me. I cannot control it. I have lost days before - days of not knowing where I had gone or what I had done.” He chuckles sarcastically, dismal and sullen, “We get what we deserve in the end, I suppose.”

Perhaps we do.

“I’m not going,” you state matter-of-factly. “Do you trust me, Astarion?”

Astarion gently draws you back to look into your eyes, sorrow dulling his expression with his lips firm in a tight line, “You may be the only person in the entirety of the cosmos that I trust implicitly.”

“Then trust that when the spark in your eyes is snuffed out, I can be your glow,” you vow, chillingly formidable. “My soul is forged in fire, and I will burn brighter than your demons and choke the darkness. I will do whatever it takes. I will always bring you home.”

“Don’t be a martyr. Do you have no sense of self-preservation?” he admonishes you with a shake of his head. “Why are you doing this?”

“Good Gods, you can be obtuse sometimes,” you roll your eyes at him. “You can stop posturing this charade of ignorance any time. I know you heard what I said to Gale.”

Astarion’s eyes drift to your hand, embraced with his, and his thumb skims up and down yours, “What if I am incapable of loving you back?”

Can’t or won’t? 

“I don’t expect you to,” you strive to keep your voice steady and casual even as your heart fractures and implodes in your chest. “Love given with the requisite of reciprocation is not love. I give it to you freely, as it always was, as it always will be. May I speak plainly?”

Astarion arches a brow, “Go on.”

“I don’t think you’re incapable of love, Astarion. I believe you’re scared of it.”

“Love is a sickness of the heart.” Astarion takes a deep breath, his voice grave. “It will hail itself your saviour but be your downfall.”

“Then...” you shrug, “down I go.”

Astarion loving you is a fantasy you’ve long relinquished. A pathetic hope that would asphyxiate you in pools of failed attempts. But wrapped in his arms, staring into scarlet eyes dusted with an ethereal radiance, a murmur begins to bite at your thoughts, quickly becoming a roar, filling your ears.

There’s that feeling again. That connection of invisible threads bridging the gap between you and the presence lingering in the back of your head that you cannot touch. It tugs at the borders of your mind with a request. No, an invitation. For the first time since it made its home in your consciousness when you reach out, it does not shy away, and you embrace it.

There’s an ear-splitting rush and a feeling of sinking. Your body jerks, trying to right itself, but Astarion holds you firmly, pulling you tighter.

“Let yourself sink,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead. “Trust me just a little further.”

You stop fighting the feeling and plummet. Suddenly, you’re not just you any longer. You are you, and you are him simultaneously. One being in two bodies. You can feel the comfortable pressure of your body against him, and his heart beats behind your ribs.

Another abrupt drop. It makes your stomach flutter, and you’re in the bowels of a stygian doom. You feel the corruption you heard in his mind as if it were in yours, infecting your thoughts with sadistic rants and relentless chittering. You can almost taste the rancid colloquy on your tongue, and you fight the urge to retch.

A hunger longing to escape, thundering against the bars of its prison. It hums enticing promises in an absorbing, almost angelic inflection that compels you to release it, and you’re horrified to find yourself tempted.

You’re dragged away, a feeling of hurtling through time and space, not entirely unlike portal travel. His voice echoes in your mind, bellowing in your head, begging you to peer into his darkness, dance with his demons, and love him anyway.

I do, you answer, you are safe with me.

Your eyelashes flutter as you come back. You no longer hear the voices mumbling or feel that malevolent spectre with its seraphic affirmations, but you can still feel him in a way you’ve never felt before.

“I- I don’t understand,” you breathe, trying to reestablish yourself with your body, thoughts and feelings, “What was that?”

“I have always been with you.” Astarion gently taps your temple, “In here. You cannot tell me you have not felt me. I know you have because I always feel you.”

You can’t help the awe transforming your face as you continue feeling his desires, wants, and fears flowing through you as you flow through him, two stars colliding and recollecting unified.

“I thought that was just how you could compel me.”

“Well... it is,” he nods, “but there is much more to it than that.”

“Did you have this with...” You cut yourself off when you realize what you’re about to blurt out, biting your tongue so hard you draw blood.

Astarion smirks, “You know it works both ways, right?” You hear his voice in your head and only realize that it’s not him speaking when you comprehend his mouth isn’t moving, “Just because you don’t say it doesn’t mean I don’t hear it.”

Fuck. Are none of my thoughts private any longer? Did I throw open the door for the devil? 

“The devil, hm? A little harsh, don’t you think?” Astarion giggles. He must see the terror in your eyes, or Hells, does he feel it? Either way, he squeezes your hand. “Say what you were going to say,” Astarion instructs. “You might as well just say it.”

“I didn’t mean that you’re the devil!” You yelp and swallow hard, “Did you have this with Cazador?”

You wince as the name strolls off your tongue. You were never to utter that name in Astarion’s presence, and whenever you did, you paid for your carelessness. You impulsively cower, thrusting your eyes shut, magic rising in a sharp upswing.

“Easy, darling. I’m not going to hurt you. I would make a very dashing devil.” Astarion coos while rubbing your arm, “Yes and no. I felt something similar; that ubiquity rooted in my mind gave him the power to control me, but the link concluded there. This… bond, if you will, is unique to you and me.”

“Why did it not feel like this before? I can feel you, Astarion. I can feel your heart beating as if it were in my chest.” You push your palm against his shirt and let it heat slightly, and your skin starts to heat in concert, “I can feel this as if I were doing it to myself. I feel your desires, wants, and fears. Good Gods, I feel everything.”

It’s gloriously overwhelming, akin to a pleasure so intense that it borders on pain. Your nerves and synapses are overloaded as they attempt to make sense of all this information circuiting.

“I had to open the door, so to speak.” Astarion kisses your heated palm with a wolfish grin. “Tell me. What do I want, little love?”

I want you, it arises in your mind, drifting on the current between you.

“Me.” You stutter, feeling like all the breath has been sucked out of your lungs. You stare at him wide-eyed, “You want... me?”

“Until the world falls down,” he purrs tenderly with a genuine smile. “Do not worry. You are able to close and open the connection, same as I. I need not be in your head all the time. Your dirty thoughts are private if you wish, but I do hope you share.”

“Can you force the connection open?”

“Yes,” he retorts blatantly, “but I have not crossed that line, and I do not plan to, and before you ask, no, you cannot force it open. You can, however, request it simply by reaching out. Wherever I am, I will feel it.”

You rest your hand where your heart used to beat. Hells, it feels like it is beating again, but you’re feeling his. You thought you missed this sensation, but right now, you’re finding it a harsh cramp in your chest.

“Astarion, this… this is incredible.” Tears well in your eyes. He’s letting you in, and the significance of this gesture is staggering, “Thank you.”

“It is quite something, isn’t it?” Astarion takes his lips in yours, and you can feel his eagerness, his rampant desire and his enjoyment. When your tongues meet, tasting each other, you’re blown away by pleasure, yours and his mixed.

“Oh my, this will make for some very depraved carnal fun. I could read your body before, but now I can feel it. Hmm, the possibilities are titillating.” Astarion grins devilishly, “But that will have to wait. You are weak and must rest. I could find you some food if you wish. It will help you recover quicker, but it will not be of the four-legged variety.”

“Unless it’s your purple-haired hussy, I’m not interested.” You smirk. “I will make an exception on my dietary restrictions for her.”

“Oh, still positively green with envy, I see. I can feel your hatred. It’s delectable,” Astarion giggles. “My pretty consort, I do not like to see doubt cast upon your face. I told you I’ve never taken her to my bed. You need not be invidious.”

“Will you take me to your bed? I- I,” you stumble embarrassingly over your tongue. It feels cumbersome in your mouth, “I would like to rest with you tonight.”

You feel a rush of delight mixed with astoundment. Perhaps what’s more flabbergasting is that he simply lets you feel it, not attempting to camouflage or muzzle it.

“You do?” Astarion’s brows rise and curve upward, “I mean,” he clears his throat. “Of course. I can deny you nothing. You need not ask permission. You’re more than welcome to rest with me any night.”

“Well, in that case,” you smirk foxlike, “which wardrobe is mine then?”

The question only further increases the exhilaration you’re feeling ebbing from him. It’s so potent, a high so gratifying that you could get addicted to pleasing him - a dangerous notion.

“I suppose I will have to acquire you one.” Astarion chuckles and kisses your forehead, “Can you walk, or shall I carry you to bed?”

You scoff and do your best, but your muscles are still depleted of the sustenance required to function, and you wobble even with Astarion stabilizing you.

“Carry you, it is, clumsy thing.” He laughs lightheartedly while taking you into his arms. “Come, my love. Let’s go to our bed, hm?”

“Our bed,” you muse, kissing his cheek. “I do like the sound of that.”

“Me too,” he says, suddenly frighteningly serious, “Very much.”

The mattress dips as Astarion gets into bed. You’ve never really realized how enormous this damn bed is. Even with both of you lying in it, there’s so much space that it makes him feel far away, and you mourn the physicality.

A grin splits across his face, and he raises his arm, inviting you in, “I can feel that - you know, your desire to be close. No, it’s more than that. Isn’t it?” You can feel him scan the emotion, deciphering it, “It feels like a need. I suppose I should not be surprised. You never could get enough of me.”

“Astarion.” Pushing yourself close to him, you rest your head on his arm. The pads of your fingers rub the silken skin of his chest. Rest is starting to beckon you toward your trance. “What does this mean for us?”

“It can mean as little or as much as you wish it to,” his fingers meander the valley up your spine. “Nothing has to change between us, or we can… try for something more.”

As the dreamscape unfolds behind the closed lids of your eyes, your sensibility fading, you whisper, “Do you love me, Astarion?”

Emotional pandemonium tosses like waves on a rough sea. Alarm. Resentment. Dread. That proverbial portal slams closed frantically with so much force that it peppers your vision behind your eyelids white, and you lurch upward with your hand to your forehead with a howl.

It feels like a guillotine to your soul, slicing it in two. You are hollow. Your chest is still, the borrowed beat from Astarion’s heart dying. The slipstream of emotions no longer flows and combines as one enchanted ballad.

You are alone, completely incomplete, and you have never felt more dead than this moment.

“I’m sorry,” Astarion rubs your back and kisses your shoulder softly. “I did not expect it to pain you. I’m still learning. I will take heed of my haste from now on. That’s enough rooting around in my head for one day. Rest now.”

The pain ebbs, and your thoughts reform, piecing themselves back together. You lay down without a word because you’re unsure of what you can say in your state of confusion. The feelings, none of them love or even affection, but you’ve been feeling his veneration all night.

What the Hells does it all mean?

The sun-warmed stones of the courtyard thaw the icy chill of your skin as you lay under the radiant rays. The sky is full of fluffy, white clouds like unsheared sheep grazing across a cerulean plain. You thought this might make you feel as alive as when the bond between you and Astarion was open, but instead, it’s another reminder you’re a walking, talking corpse.

A feather-light breeze flutters your hair around your face and carries the smell of food, well, people but food to you, reminding you of your hunger. Those cramps in your stomach have returned, and the unquenchable thirst is parching your throat, making your tongue feel like an arid desert.

Firey orbs rotate above, and you twist them into constellations, which you often do when your mind is unsettled. Astarion said you could try for more; it sounds like fantasies made reality until you remember that he’d said he wasn’t sure he could love you. In that case, what does more even mean to him? Do you take the risk and put your heart on the table?

Everything is getting so fucking messy.

How can you tell what is genuine with him? Gale wasn’t wrong when he said Astarion knows how to manipulate you. He hardly needs to compel you because he knows what buttons to push and pull, the words to say, to get what he wants. He always has. All roads always lead back to him. Is it your heart that gravitates to Astarion, or is it something far more sinister? Are you just ingrained to be drawn to your creator? How can you know your feelings versus just an innate reflex that was planted and has taken root in your consciousness?

“What’s troubling you?” Astarion lays down beside you with an arch brow and his crimson eyes vivid in the sunlight.

“Everything,” you sigh, “Just everything.”

Astarion rolls to his side and puts his hand on your arm. He looks bothered by your answer with one brow pulled slightly down with his head cocked, “Is it something I did? You can tell me.”

“No.” The orbs start to absorb each other until there are only two remaining. You make them violently clash and burst like a firework, “You didn’t do anything. Where did you go this morning? You weren’t here when I woke up.”

“I would like to take you somewhere today.” Astarion sits and takes your hand, kissing the palm and all your fingertips, “Will you come?”

Sitting, you pull your knees to your chest, “You want to go out during the day?”

“Yes, during the day.” He purrs in a soothing baritone. “You’re safe from the sun with me. You need not hide in the manor all the time.”

“It’s not the sun, Astarion.” A lie. It’s always a little bit about the sun. That phobia is alive and well. You’re starting to wonder if it’s less of a phobia and more of some weird vampiric instinct. “It’s all the people. I’m hungry, and my control is dreadful. I can’t be trusted around them. I’m not sure how you did it.”

“Centuries of practice, love. You do quite well for a young spawn. Cazador kept us in the kennels until we could control the hunger. I was in there for many years, I think.” Astarion cocks his head, drawing his brows down as if he didn’t mean to divulge that information but continues. “You have my word; I will not put you into a situation you cannot handle.”

“Okay,” you say hesitantly, “I’ll go.”

“Splendid,” Astarion stands and hauls you up with him, “You can ride a horse, yes?”

Your brows pop up, rounding your eyes, “Me? Of course. Do you? Last I checked, you hated those beasts.”

“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” Astarion rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue, “I am more than capable of riding the beasts. I don’t have to like them."

“This is going to be so much fun,” you giggle. “I truly cannot wait to see this. The Vampire Ascendant on a horse. Miracles never cease!”

“Cheeky pup,” he smirks and bumps your shoulder.

It’s been a while since you’ve been in the saddle, but you settle quickly. With your feet in the stirrups and hands on the reins, the dapple-grey mare canters with a rhythmic stride. Astarion’s steed, a large jet-black gelding, keeps pace effortlessly. It’s hard to keep your eyes off Astarion. In the saddle, he attracts attention with a cut debonair form, his shoulders back, hips rolling smoothly to match his gelding’s long strides, and his hair flowing handsomely in the wind.

He catches you admiring him with your mouth dropped open and smirks with a chuckle, nodding in the direction to follow and eases his gelding into a gallop. The two horses soar over the plains outside Baldur's Gate with booming hoofbeats, manes streaming in the wind, and tails held high.

There is something so unbelievably picturesque about this moment, so familiar yet unsettling. You spent so much time travelling with Astarion across areas like this. You, him and dirt roads from dawn to dusk, but this isn’t the same man from your memories - is it? It’s getting increasingly more challenging to be mindful that Astarion may look and act, well sometimes act, like the same person you knew, but he isn’t.

He no longer becomes shy when you ask him for a kiss; gone are the awkward hugs, the way he used to mutter to himself to test what he was about to say, and the way his eyes would dart away when he said something sweet.

Now, he’s prone to blacked-out fits of violent, deadly rage and can let you burn in the sun at any moment should he choose, force himself into your mind, and take away your agency with a thought. He can turn himself into a bat, mist, and who knows what else. He said he felt his powers growing, and you have a feeling you haven’t seen the full extent of what he can do.

How many people has he killed in his blackouts? How many people has he compelled? Has he compelled you? You have yet to see other spawn, but who knows what he’s hiding.

Yet, you love him all the same - even with his demons, darkness and madness.

In these moments, when things start to feel too much like old times, you can’t help but mourn the man he was – a man you still miss.

I wonder what he would have thought of himself turning me into his spawn? 

Astarion reins his horse to a trot and guides the gelding into a dense thicket with a barely perceptible path. He twists in the saddle, “This way. It’s not far.”

The trees, smelling pleasantly of pine, are towering with thick trunks. A chorus of birdsongs flows like a river softly floating through the air. It’s easy to forget how beautiful nature can be. When was the last time you were out like this during the day?

After several minutes, the thick trees start to thin and give way to a pristine clearing with thick green grass carpeting the ground and a lake. The crystalline water looks as blue as the sky reflecting on its mirror-smooth surface.

“Here we are,” Astarion dismounts his horse. His feet land on the ground in silence; not even the snap of a twig can be heard or the crunch of his boots on the earth.

Your eyes scan the area with reverence. The colours are bright and vivid, as though painted and composed from an artist's rendering of a fairy tale. It’s been some time since you’ve seen anything of such beauty during the day. If you had breath to take away, this would surely confiscate it from your lungs. You pat the mare’s muscled neck, haul yourself up and hop off the saddle much less gracefully than Astarion.

Astarion’s hand comes to the small of your back, “This way. Come.”

He takes your hand and leads you toward thick blankets, pillows, chilled wine, flowers, and candles in a stunning presentation.

“Astarion,” you gasp, below a whisper as you take in the scene, “Did you do this?”

“Yes.” Astarion slips behind you and puts his arms around your waist, hugging you close to his chest, “I thought you might want to get out of the manor for a day.”

You lean into him, “This is beautiful. Thank you.”

“I told you I can be romantic,” he quips with a boyish smile. His cardinal red eyes are set ablaze by the sun glinting off them, “You did not believe I was capable. Before you say it because I can see it on your pretty face, yes, little love, true feelings - they were a requirement, if I recall correctly.”

Do I ruin this moment by asking about what feelings?

I must know.

“What feelings, Astarion?”

Astarion kisses your temple and coos, “My feelings for you, of course. You said you were hungry earlier. I will go find you some food.”

He’s trying to retreat from the conversation.

“No, I’m fine,” you clutch his arm, afraid that if you let him go, you might awaken from this dream. “Stay, please?”

“Are you sure? It would not take me long, and I will be sure to stay close.”

“I’m sure, please.”

“As you wish,” Astarion removes his shirt and lays on the blanket, closing his eyes and basking in the sun. “If you change your mind, you have only but to ask. I do not like letting you go hungry.”

You sit beside him and grab the wine, uncork it and drink it straight from the bottle, disregarding the glass flutes.

He opens one eye momentarily and chuckles, “Hells, I see you’re still as boorish as ever.”

“Oh, shut up,” you giggle while giving him a playful shake, “You used to love my lack of decorum.”

When you used to love me, or at least, I thought you did.

Astarion takes the bottle from you and drinks straight from it with a wink, “Who says I don’t still love it, you delinquent.”

He hands the bottle back and lies back with his eyes closed. There’s something so tranquil about him like this. You can barely believe that just a day ago, he had his hands wrapped around your neck while he tore at your throat. It feels like a distant nightmare and makes you question if it really happened.

Your fingers trace the scabbed, coin-sized holes he marred your skin with as if to prove to yourself it was real. There’s always a dull, icy throbbing in your breast as if you’re heart believes it should be beating and is trying to rival its death. Some days, the pain is easily overlooked, but right now, it feels like someone is driving barbed shards of ice through your heart with a heavy hand and thundering strikes. Bringing your hand to your chest, you put pressure on it as if that might impede the malignancy.

You need a distraction, a physical sensation on your skin that you can focus on before you try to claw your heart out, “Are there any people around here?”

Astarion listens intently for a few seconds before shaking his head, “No, there’s no one around for miles. Why?”

You swallow your anguish and give him a devious grin, “Can I swim in that water?”

He probs himself up and grins, “It’s not running. You should be fine.”

“Excellent,” you giggle, taking another big drink and handing him the bottle.

You remove your clothes and wade in, disturbing and rippling the glassy surface. Diving into it, you let yourself sink to the murky bottom. The water is cold, even to you, and nips your skin like needlepoints being dragged across your flesh. The sunless silence is serene, and you consider letting it swallow you whole, but when you open your eyes toward the surface, you can see the silhouette of Astarion standing on the bank. Bending your knees, with a push, you propel yourself to the surface, to him, because that’s what you do – is it not? You always return to him, even at your detriment.

Astarion’s eyes you regardfully with nervous scrutiny, as if he had been afraid you may never come back.

“It’s cold,” you warn him.

“That’s really not a problem,” he chuckles, relaxing his expression once he’s assessed you’re safe. “Come here. I want to show you something.”

You arch a calculating brow at him, and he rolls his eyes, “Sweetheart, get your head out of the gutter. Gods, you’re a freak sometimes.”

“Another thing you used to love about me,” you snicker while walking up to him. “What would you like to show me?”

“Used to” hm? That’s another wildly inaccurate statement,” Astarion tsks while he takes your hand and places it on his warm skin with a soft exhale and a wince that makes you smirk your “I-told-you-so” look. Slowly, his body cools until he’s as cold as you.

Your brows furrow as you place your hand on random spots of him. Icy cold everywhere. “You can control your body temperature?”

“I can do a great many things,” he chuckles with a cunning lop-sided half smile twerking one corner of his lips up, “Interesting ability, although I have found little use for it until now.”

Before you can register what he’s doing, Astarion giggles mischievously, picks you up and throws you back into the lake as if he were throwing a pebble, removes his trousers and wades in with you.

“That was rude!” You glower at him playfully and tap your chin with your finger, “Retribution may be required. I might have to get your hair wet.”

“Don’t you dare!”

With a wicked grin, you start splashing him, and he lunges toward you. By the time he’s subdued you with his arms wrapped around yours, he’s drenched, including his hair, and you’re both laughing loudly.

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” he giggles. “Naughty thing.”

Laughing, you comb your fingers through his hair and muss it further, “Don’t worry, you still look earth-shatteringly dashing.”

Astarion brushes wet strands of your hair out of your eyes, “You’re a vision.” He purrs while pulling you close to him, guiding your legs around his waist.

His thumb traces your lower lip. When he takes your lips in his, the kiss is raw with emotion, demanding and primal. His finger puts gentle pressure on your chin, opening your mouth for him, and his tongue explores you with a longing groan.

Astarion abruptly breaks the kiss and stares off to the side, a million miles away. An almost startled confusion distorts his expression, which perplexes you. Have you made him uncomfortable somehow?

“Astarion,” you cradle his face with your palm, “What’s wrong?”

Astarion’s jaw clenches, and he swallows hard, making his Adam's apple bob. His eyes snap back to yours, a scarlet tempest of determination raging athwart his irises, “I think we need to talk.” 

Big thank you for everyone who takes the time to read/reblog/comment, and all the other magnificent things. As always, I hope you enjoy this, darlings!

AO3 [Crossposted]

Master List of Chapters: Fangs and Fractured Hearts

If you're interested I write another fic with Spawn Astarion x Tav called - Shadows of the Past

Small Notes:

Please note - we may end up giving Tav a name. I've been agonizing over the idea for a while because it was something I never meant to do, but my resolve is weakening haha. If you're incredibly against the idea, please let me know.

I know my portrayal of A. Astarion is a softer version - I guess I have a weak spot for an Astarion that's all-powerful but still not completely cold and horribly abusive - although, he does have his moments.

[wishsparkleemoji]

Sky iceberg tier 3: Revival ult

Full iceberg

Sky: The Two Embers: In August of 2023, a trailer was released for a TV show for Sky about two early skykids before the downfall and the King. It’s speculated that it will be very lore-heavy and show what life was like both before and after the war and the corruption, but it could also just be a story about two skykids. Not much is known.

Ancestors: The term used for now-spirits before they died, or in other words, the people of the kingdom before the downfall.

Eden crystal explosion: It’s a popular theory that at some point, possibly due to darkstone, the real final nail in the coffin for Sky’s kingdom was the Eden crystal exploding, causing all or most of the ancestors (spirits when they were alive) to die, Eden becoming what it is today, the dark creatures becoming dark, and generally causing the way the world is now.

Beta cape: This was a gift given to people who participated in the Sky beta before the live release, and it gave access to the Office the same way the office cape does now. The two capes looked nearly identical, except the office cape has a black interior while the beta cape’s was white. Given how long ago the beta was, the cape is near obsolete today.

Cat hair controversy: In the beta version of Days of Mischief 2022, the cat hair was originally an IGC cosmetic, but during an update was switched to be an IAP. Beta testers really loved this cosmetic and interpreted this change to be TGC trying to make more money off them, and got OUTRAGED. They then switched it back to IGC because of all of it, where it remained into live release.

Second performance quest: During the second Season of Performance quest, you are tasked to tell a story through selecting multiple choice questions. All the options lead to different outcomes and endings depending on what you choose, most of which seem to be based around lore in some way (particularly the silent child routes). Here’s the flowchart of all the results you can get:

Notably, the ending at the bottom of the right side seems to be referring to the King/Prince.

Color lights: In early seasons, there seemed to be an emphasis on color lights. Enchantment had you restoring the ark with them, and Prophecy had murals on the wall featuring what appeared to be some of the same lights.

Eden elder can’t be saved anymore: Speaks for itself.

Manta poaching: During the concert, specifically Warrior, you fly through memories of mantas being captured in nets and cages. After containment, they might be transported to the Citadel for manta racing (as seen in Aurora quest 3 and the backflipping champion’s memory), or to what’s now Treasure reef to be used in the creation of darkstone.

Mass migration: Particularly in Isle, there are signs that point to at one point there being a mass migration of the ancestors. The pointing candlemaker’s memory, the boats lodged in the ground, and Runaway during the the first Aurora quest and the concert are examples of this. The why is unknown.

999 heart cape: In the beta version of Sky, one of the elder gifts (the kind you get when you finish a constellation and go to Orbit) is an invisible cape that costs 999 hearts.

Old opening: Open game: As of now, in the first part of Isle, there are some candles that, when lit, reveal some murals and a couple basics of Sky lore. The text used to be slightly different though, and used to only show right when you opened the game for the first time. And before that, in Light Awaits, it was different: “In the darkness, lays a kingdom covered in clouds where, from ages long past, dwelt the spirits of light. Back then, light and dark lived in harmony, but as time went by, a kingdom prospered and had fallen. The prophecy promised its children would return to restore the light. For those were the days of winged travelers…”

[bouncybongfairy]

Everyone Bleeds Red

Darth Vader x Fem Reader

Summary: After Darth Vader recruited your mother as a culinarian for the Death Star, you are now forced to call this your new home. One night you can't take being locked in your sleeping quarters any longer. You sneak out and find Vader in his Bacta tank, in a form you didn't know you would ever see.

Word Count: 2k+

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

It was tiring, staring out the window panel, into never ending space. You would make different constellations out of stars you saw or over-examined a large rock that was floating. Shifting on your feet once you could no longer dissociate at command and all the pain in your body became unbearable all at once. The leather and latex of your suit feel completely suffocating and uncomfortable. You could never stand there as long as he could. You’d seen him go 12 hours of just staring into the abyss without moving a muscle. So still that you could barely tell he was breathing. Even when the ship would sway a bit, he maintained his rigid posture. When you could no longer take the void, you would go to your sleeping quarters. You would peel the layers of your clothes off one by one. Every time you walked into that room, you would admire how intricate the designs were. Every room on the ship was so dull, everything was gray and black. Even with colors so dark, the fluorescent lights were blinding at times. Not in your space though, the walls were a pale yellow and had foxtails and flowers hand-painted onto the walls. Sometimes when you couldn’t sleep you would count the blades of grass, admiring the paint strokes. Wondering what happened to the artist who sat where you were with a brush. 

The roof was baby blue and like the walls had hand-painted clouds. They looked so realistic that you would get the urge to reach out to see if they were fluffy or not. The carpet matches the color of the painted grass so perfectly. One would have to look extremely hard to see the seam of where the wall and carpet connected. There was a painted mural of a waterfall that had plexiglass over it, water flowed over this glass to create the illusion that it was a real waterfall. Under this glass was a 3ft by 3ft pond that was filled with different stones. When the water would hit these, it created an authentic sound of water running. You were grateful for this because the ship was so quiet, it would hurt your ears sometimes. Your bed was circular and had a lace canopy that hung over it. The headboard was made from cream-colored marble and had carvings of different flowers. The bedding was lavender, the sheets and pillowcases were silk but the main duvet was fur. So soft that you can’t feel it against your skin. The lighting was yellow-toned, less harsh on your eyes than the bright fluorescent bulbs around the ship. Roses were always placed around the room, so many that the room was permeated with their scent. 

You were taken from your home planet of Coruscant, you didn’t know why but you were grateful. Being born on that smog-covered planet was a life sentence. Nobody who’s born there ever makes it out. It was like the planet was the Bermuda triangle, people came here in hopes of making it big with their criminal enterprise. Once you’re there long enough, you’re forgotten. There’s no communication signal until you’re off the planet which creates such a suffocating isolation it’s comparable to prison. Nonetheless, you were happy, you lived with your mother and operated a bakery. Even though it was a humble life, it was better than what most people had and your mother always reminded you of that. Vader completely tours through your city in search of Obi-Wan. You’d never seen such mass chaos and hysteria in your life. Stormtroopers seemed to enjoy such misery and horror. Sometimes when walking through the halls you would lose your breath when they came around the corner. Your mother and you were hidden in the back room of the bakery. You both could hear the shouting of stormtroopers, 

“This is the 501st Legion, come out with your hands up now !” one of them shouted. Your mother put her hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. 

“This is your last formal warning. Come out with your hands NOW !” You were commanded.

Tears were running down your face as you held your hand over your mothers. The room went quiet, you could no longer hear the clanking of their uniforms. All you could hear was the sound of boots hitting the ground. The silence was deafening and created such an eerie energy. After what felt like hours, the metal door of the back freezer was ripped off the wall and against what was the service counter. You screamed so loudly that you felt your mother’s hand vibrate against your cheeks. There he was in all his glory, when you first laid eyes on him he looked like a monster. Wearing all black, standing so tall, and the blood was splattered on his mask. His lightsaber was so close, you could feel the heat coming off it. He was accompanied by another individual who was in a gray uniform, unlike the stormtroopers. Vader whispered something to him that you didn’t quite hear. 

“Lord Vader requests that you serve the 501st Legion by working as a culinarian aboard our ship,” the gentleman said to your mother. 

“Well, thank you, my lord, May I bring my daughter, s-she helps me in all my operations,” your mother said; you’d never heard her voice so shaky and raw. 

“Very well, come with me,” he said. 

That was when we followed Vader and his army to the Death Star. Even though you were already of age, your mother covered your eyes. You could only see your feet and a bit of the ground in front of you. As you walked, you could smell copper in the air along with smoke. You could hear the sounds of people groaning and debris caving in on itself. Once you were about to board the ship, you looked up slightly and saw a severed hand on the ground. Curiosity killed the cat and you wish you’d never looked up. What scared you even more was the fact that nobody seemed to react to anything. Like there wasn’t a limit on how much gore their eyes could absorb. There was a knock at the door that pulled you back to reality. The automatic doors opened and revealed your mother. You were extremely grateful that you still got to see your mother every day. She had a different outlook on being aboard than you did. She was happy, we were finally safe, had amazing living conditions, and were together. Whenever you were feeling anxious she would remind you to count your blessings. Even though you knew she meant well with what she was saying, it could come off as dismissive at times. She set your dinner tray down and sat on your bed with you. 

“What’s wrong?” she asks knowingly. 

“Same as always,” you replied. 

“Let’s talk about it,” your mother pried gently. 

“There is really nothing to talk about, not about anything that I haven’t said before,” you said. 

“Are you just feeling closed in again?” she asked. 

“Again? I always feel closed in. I have no idea what we're even doing here. I feel silly because I always dreamed of a room like this, being surrounded by such elegance. Now, I just wish we had our shop and old living space. Yeah it was homely but at least it was purposeful,” you said. 

“Oh dear, It saddens me that you’re so focused on the negative. I know we had a comfortable life on Culinarian but now we have access to the finest of the galaxy. Lord Vader spared us, he spared you. He could have left you without me or just killed both of us. He didn’t and I don’t think it would be wise of you to be questioning why,” she said, standing up and giving you a kiss on top of your head. 

Shortly after your mother left, leaving you with a bowl of soup and bread. You weren’t feeling hungry these days, you missed your home planet. Your school and friends; there was a clothing shop right across from the bakery and would always trade goods with each other. It was the simple things like the feeling of excitement when your mom comes home with a basket of new clothes or shoes. The thrill of sneaking out with friends to go to different cantinas. Now all you did was accompany Lord Vader anywhere he chose to go which normally was starting to space. Sometimes you thought about just asking him what he was thinking about. Or why he was so sad and angry but never did. You’d seen him do horrible things, destroy part of the ship over the smallest of things. Kill entire villages simply for not having what he is looking for. He was a monster, ruthless and impatient; so much so that most of the time he didn’t realize what he did until after it was done. There was one incident in particular that made you question his morality. You were standing with him at the window panel. You had been there for 10 hours and stubbornly trying to stand there longer than he could; like some kind of endurance game. Once you were so overstimulated that you thought you might cry, you turned to walk away. That was when Vader reached and grabbed your wrist really tight, for a second you thought you were in trouble somehow. He simply told you to stay, not in an aggressive way but more of an invitation. He didn’t say anything for the rest of the time you were standing. Even though it was a small moment, it still made you think about what was behind the mask; a soft spot if you will. 

You set your dinner tray on the bedside table and make your way to the door. You had your nightgown on, it slightly stuck to your body as you walked. Pressing your ear against the door, you start listening to see if anyone is near. Once you were sure nobody was near, you let your finger rest on the button that opened the door. Your heart was beating so fast you were worried other people may hear it. The door slid open, leaving you blinded by the lights. It was so quiet, you were worried breathing too hard may get you caught. You walk around slowly, trying to find areas that are unfamiliar. You weren’t looking for anything in particular, your eyes just needed some new stimulation. The floors were cold against your feet, it was starting to make your teeth chatter. You passed the window panel that Vader normally stands but he wasn’t there. That relieved you, knowing there was no chance you could get caught by the lord himself. 

You turned a corner and immediately noticed the change in light. Instead of the bright white, the lights shined a deep red. Even though you had enough adrenaline in your body to kill a horse, you followed the lights. The walls were made of windows, so you could see space. Because of the lights reflecting off the glass, it made the stars appear red. It was nice to see something you always observed so different. You stayed there for a couple moments, admiring the lighting. You then walked into the room at the end of this hall. You physically cover your mouth with your hand when you lay eyes on him. He was in a bacta tank, completely submerged with serval tubes connected to him. There wasn’t a single part of his skin that wasn’t scared. It was shocking to see his amputations, you never realized. He was floating peacefully in the water, jerking or twitching every once in a while. Even though his eyes were closed, you could see how visible the bags under his eyes were. Perhaps this was the only place he felt true peace. You walked closer to the tank, standing so close that you could see your reflection. It wasn’t until then that you realized you were crying. His eyebrows were furrowed and his movements were becoming more frequent. This normally would have singled you to retreat back to your bed however, all you could think about was why they were keeping him alive. Who would put someone through such pain in order to maintain power? You now understand the power Lord Vader must possess. Such power that Palpatine was willing to go this far in order to keep Vader’s abilities and powers. You rested your hand and forehead on the class and closed your eyes. 

“For one day you will be engulfed in harmoniousness, the same way you are submerged in your torment,” you whispered into the glass. When you opened your eyes, Vader’s glowing eyes were cutting right through the glass. Your heart drops into your stomach and you run back to your chamber.

[awesomefroggy]

there's just something so soothing about muraling my house. I love painting on canvas but there's just something about taking a paintbrush to my living room walls that is deeply pleasant. It just makes my house look neat and it feels good to paint again and I get to look at so many stars and constellations

[marvelmusing]

Total Eclipse

Chapter One

Pairing: Darklina x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lord Morozova returns to his summer residence earlier than usual - accompanied by his new wife.

Word Count: 2.7K

My Masterlist

At the sight of the black coach, you drop your sketchbook into a secluded nook at the entrance to the church and take off, running back inside and heading towards the servants entrance.

As always, the minister scolds you for running, his stern words startling you, but you don’t pay him any mind as you continue to run. After stumbling through the back door, you weave by the girls pulling up weeds from the spot where their strawberries had been planted last week and leap over the old stone wall at the end of the garden.

Heart pounding, you follow the tracks carved into the fields by the farmer’s horse and cart, hoping that you can reach Lord Morozova’s summer residence before the coach arrives.

Growing up in Keramzin means that you know the fastest route to anywhere in the town and as a child you had snuck onto Lord Morozova’s estate countless times. He very rarely used the house there, aside from a month or so during the height of summer.

It is barely spring now. He’s here too early. The chill in the air hurts your lungs as you run but you can’t stop.

Mikhael and Dubrov are your closest friends. They had invited you to join them today on a visit to Lord Morozova’s house - a bit of fun for old times’ sake. Too busy with the mural you’ve been painting in the church, you had declined.

But at the sight of the Black General’s coach tearing its way through the town, you knew you needed to warn them.

There’s no sign of the coach as you approach the house, gravel crunching beneath your feet. Whatever window the boys had used to climb inside they must have shut behind them, so you pick the easiest one. Underneath the window to the drawing room sits a stone basin filled with flowers which you stand on to provide enough leverage to open the window and slip inside.

The curtains are soft against your skin as you wade through the thin white fabric adorned with shimmering golden threads that catch the sunlight beautifully.

The drawing room is a private space used only for entertaining Lord Morozova’s most valued guests. Silence greets you and despite the urgency that had fuelled you into running here, you can’t resist stopping to admire the room for the first time in years.

Tracing your fingers over the wallpaper, you’re surprised to find it as smooth and intact as when you last saw it. Dark blue, like the night sky, decorated with pale gold sketches of the summer constellations.

Some people say that Lord Morozova is descended from the Starless Saint. If that is true, this room is a perfect reflection of that heritage.

After hearing how quiet it is on this floor, you slowly make your way upstairs to search for the boys. The stairway is the same as you remember. A dark swooping beam of wood that curls in companion to the black metal rungs connecting it to the steps.

Those that don’t believe Lord Morozova is descended from a Saint are usually the ones who believe he is a descendant of the Black Heretic.

If his drawing room is that of a Saint’s then his bedroom is fit for a heretic. Almost everything is varying shades of darkness. Stained oak vanity table, wardrobe, and chair. His bedsheets are black, as are his pillows and the plush looking cushions that sit against the carved wooden headboard.

For a moment guilt tugs at you. As a child, Lord Morozova was more fantasy than reality. Some dark figure that was never seen. His presence had always felt almost ghostlike as you wandered through these halls. All those times you had visited, even as a rebellious teenager, you had never set foot in his bedroom.

Now, staring at his bed, he feels like a very real man. A powerful one. One that would not take kindly to some commoner breaking into his house - whether he used it often or not.

Heart pounding, you shut the door behind you, moving onto the next bedroom. Relief fills you at the sight of your friends, though that quickly fades into a mixture of horror and anger when you see the contents of a jewellery box lying spread out over the vanity table.

“What the hell do you two think you’re doing?”

Mikhael says your name in disbelief as he pockets an ornate looking necklace and a slow grin spreads over his face.

“You couldn’t stay away could you?”

Rolling your eyes, you move closer to them.

“Not when you two idiots are about to be caught by the Black General.”

They both freeze.

“What?”

“I saw his coach. He’ll be here any minute.”

Dubrov frowns.

“Are you sure? He’s never here this early in the year.”

Mikhael sighs with a smirk.

“Honestly, you see one black coach and you’re spooked. It’s a good job we didn’t involve you in this part.”

“This part?”

There’s no time for him to explain as the sound of a coach approaching at high speed reaches your ears. All three of you go still, hearts pounding as panic sets in.

“We need to go.”

Turning back to the door, you stop when you realise they aren’t following you. Instead, they’re both filling their pockets with jewellery.

“What are you doing?” you hiss.

Mikhael scowls at you.

“He won’t miss it.”

“Come on.”

Dubrov tosses the rest of the jewellery back into the box, fumbling as he returns it to its original position on a shelf by the window.

The three of you tear down the stairs as the coach wheels turn rapidly over the gravel outside. If you leave through the drawing room window now, they will see you.

“The library. Quickly,” you order them.

The old door creaks louder than it ever has before, and the new layout of the library takes you off guard for a few seconds. The sofas have been moved towards the centre of the room and your favourite armchair is now placed by the window – a perfect spot for basking in the sun.

You rush to the back of the library, opening up the window at the far end and pulling yourself out.

It’s a small jump but you land awkwardly, knees buckling a little and the gravel digs into the skin of your kneecaps even from underneath the fabric of your trousers. The boys follow you, Mikhael closing the window behind him before he jumps off the ledge. Both of them land better than you.

Hidden from the view of anyone at the front of the house, you rush towards the treeline, using the cover of foliage to circle around and watch as the coach comes to a stop.

The Black General’s silhouette alone is imposing, and a shiver runs through you at the sight of him. His dark eyes scour over the grounds as he holds out a hand for someone else to exit the coach.

“Who’s that?” you ask quietly.

The two boys duck down to follow your eye line.

“I hear a rumour he got married,” Dubrov muses. “That must be the new Lady Morozova.”

She’s beautiful. Despite the paleness of the spring sunlight, she practically glows. Her dark hair is tied neatly into an intricate combination of braids, and she smiles widely at him as her hand remains in his. Even from this distance, they look like a matching pair.

Mikhael tuts sympathetically.

“Poor girl. Imagine being married to a monster.”

You elbow him hard in the side and he winces.

“Ouch! What was that for?!”

“He isn’t a monster. He won the war for us against Fjerda.”

“Yeah but he’s still a Darkling. His ancestor created the Fold, and he has the same power. He could make another one, whenever he wants.”

Unfortunately, Dubrov doesn’t back you up.

“I heard he had one of his Grisha sew a man’s mouth shut. He died of starvation, after days of writhing in agony.”

“Dehydration would have killed him first,” you correct him, moving out from the bushes as the travellers disappear into the house.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Two days later, it’s approaching noon and your hands won’t stop shaking. Sighing, frustration claws at you as your paintbrush hovers over the face of Sankta Ursula. The minister had wanted you to start retouching the depiction of Sankt Feliks by this afternoon, but as your fingers continue to shake that goal seems further and further away.

Rolling your shoulder, you try to figure out what has you so unnerved. The church services that honour Sankta Alina are held twice a day - at sunrise and sunset - and you had missed this morning’s service. Perhaps your body is waiting for the minister’s scolding. Or maybe you should stop to eat something. The bakery had smelt particularly tempting this morning and you have a few loose coins in your pocket.

Then a shadow passes over your painting and you turn around, almost dropping your paintbrush when you see who has joined you in the empty church.

“Lord Morozova.”

He sits down on the old wooden bench beside where you’re kneeling on the hard stone floor. Dark eyes flicker over you, taking in every detail – the paint flecks on your skin and clothing, the tension in your muscles and the shadows under your eyes.

In turn, you take the opportunity to look at him. His kefta is a marvel up close. Despite the lingering winter weather, you have seen a few Grisha already sporting their silk summer keftas. Lord Morozova must feel the cold as you do, as he is still wearing his winter kefta. Delicate threads of black embroidery weave over the wool, accompanied by a small addition of golden threads. Is the gold a new feature? Something for his marriage perhaps?

As you realise you’ve been staring, your cheeks flush with warmth. Lord Morozova makes a dismissive gesture as you move to stand and possibly bow. You’ve never met a noble; you’re not quite sure how to interact with him.

“Please, don’t let me interrupt your work.”

A small smile touches the corner of your mouth.

“It’s fine, I was about to take a break anyway.”

He nods slowly, moving over a little for you to sit down beside him. Wincing, you stretch out your stiff legs. A few small bruises linger from where the gravel had pressed into your skin after jumping from the window of Lord Morozova’s library and the memory makes you nervous of his presence. His shoulder brushes against yours as you adjust your position on the bench.

“How long have you been painting?” he asks.

“I started not long after dawn this morning.”

The corner of his mouth twitches with the hint of a smile and something akin to laughter sparkles in his eyes. Heat flushes over your cheeks once again as you realise you had misunderstood his question. Shutting your eyes briefly, you sigh before running a hand over your face. The sound of his chuckle is a soft balm to your embarrassment, encouraging you to answer his question properly.

“But I’ve been painting for as long as I can remember.”

When your eyes flutter open, you find his gaze already on you. His thumb brushes delicately over your cheek and for a moment you don’t dare to breathe, stunned by his sudden proximity. A thrill runs through you at the brief contact of his skin against yours and something deep inside you calls to him, tempting you to lean into his touch. He is an incredibly handsome man, but this feels like something bigger than attraction.

His brows furrow as he withdraws his hand, rubbing at the speck of blue paint he had removed from your skin. Ducking your head down, you stare at the stone floor beneath you, worn and weathered by thousands of visitors over hundreds of years, as you try to slow your thunderous heartbeat.

“My wife is extremely fond of painting,” Lord Morozova says lightly with a tender smile. “Whilst she might protest against such compliments, I believe she is a highly talented artist.”

That draws your attention back to him. The rumours are true. He is married. As he speaks of his wife, there’s a fond edge to his voice and he doesn’t even look at you, clearly lost in thoughts of his beloved. Then he appears to rouse himself, glancing over at you as he continues,

“She wishes to repaint the ballroom in my summer residence, and though I have warned her it will be a trying feat she seems determined to prove me wrong.” There’s a hint of laughter in his voice, as if his wife is often eager to achieve the impossible. “She wants to paint the summer night sky - sunrise on the eastern side with sunset on the west.”

“That would be beautiful,” you admit softly, thinking of the ballroom in his house and imagining how you would create such an image.

A rich midnight darkness in the centre, fading into the soft yellow and pink of summer sunrise on one side and the warm orange and blue on the other side. Sparks of silver stars would be painted over the blackness, perhaps even accompanied by the height of the summer moon.

Then a frown creases at your brows.

“But you are right, ceiling paintings are rather taxing – especially on a scale like your ballroom.” His brow lifts slightly and you panic, stomach plummeting as you recognise the familiarity in your tone and hurry to stammer a justification, “It’s quite large, from what I’ve heard of it.”

“Do the townspeople often discuss the dimensions of my property?”

As you observe the hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth, your heart skips a beat.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but not a lot happens around here,” you remark drily. He chuckles quietly and some of the tension leaves you. At least Lord Morozova doesn’t appear to be suspicious of you.

After your escape from his estate, you hadn’t spoken to Mikhael or Dubrov. You don’t want to know what they did with the jewellery they had stolen, and your heart rate picks up again as you wonder whether Lord Morozova had noticed any missing pieces. Perhaps he hadn’t even entered that spare room yet, and never would.

A comfortable lull settles between you both, and despite the fact that he is one of Ravka’s most powerful men, you don’t feel anxious to fill the silence with unnecessary chatter. The sound of the minister calling out for you has you sliding down a little, hoping that the figure of Lord Morozova might shield you from sight.

Once again, Lord Morozova’s mouth quirks slightly in amusement as he observes your sheepish expression.

As the minister steps out from behind a pillar, his eyes bounce between you and the lord beside you. Saving you from the scolding that was without a doubt already on the minister’s tongue, Lord Morozova stands smoothly and offers his hand to the man.

“Lord Morozova, what an unexpected surprise.”

As the two of them discuss the history of the church and the service schedule over the course of the summer, you decide to use this opportunity to your advantage. Slowly, you tuck your supplies back into your cloth wrap, folding it carefully and tucking it against your body. Sticking to the shadows, you attempt to make a quick escape.

Before you can move two steps, the bench you had been sitting on creaks at the sudden lack of weight against it. Ever the optimist, you keep walking casually.

“Not so fast,” the minister says firmly and your footsteps falter. “You missed service this morning.”

Turning back towards the two of them, you find Lord Morozova’s scrutiny far more nerve-wracking than the minister’s.

“I apologise. I was working late and did my prayer before bed instead.”

He purses his lips together. Night prayers are for the Starless Saint, something the church feels is optional, unlike the morning service which had been for Sankta Alina.

“Remember to ask our Sankta for forgiveness tomorrow.”

“I will.”

He holds your gaze as he says,

“The candles on your Saint’s table are burning low.”

The cream candles used for Sankta Alina’s altar are always in abundance, despite the fact that the wax is mixed with flecks of gold leaf. You know which Saint he’s referring to.

“I’ll go to the market tomorrow.”

The two of you both know that the market doesn’t sell the black candles traditionally placed on the Starless Saint’s altar, but you’re not going to tell him where you get the candles from. He would never let you work in the church again, and this position is the only way you can afford to paint.

Lord Morozova inclines his head in a small bow, providing you with an out as he says,

“It was a pleasure to speak with you.”

Warmth spreads over your cheeks as you duck your head. Looking down at your boots, your reply lacks his elegance, but your words are no less genuine.

“It was nice to meet you too.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

[blood-orange-juice]

About Imunlaukr, the hero from the Blizzard Strayer artifact set again.

From the Sacrificial Greatsword description:

"In the eyes of the Imunlaukr clan, combat existed not for protection, for glory, or for gaining territory. Rather, it was for the amusement of the gods, high up in the heavens, for whom little else could serve to entertain."

It kiiind of fits the philosophy that Childe describes. And for some reason Imunlaukr's story is found in artifacts from the same domain as Parsifal's story (although one could argue that both are just relevant for Old Mondstadt and leave it at that. a clan founded by an outsider and someone who left their clan and became an outsider).

The description of Starsilver Claymore belonging to Imunlaukr suggests it was a philosophy born of despair, but then people lie about their motives, and legends embellish things, and the sword itself is found in the tomb with these murals:

The murals have been analyzed to pieces by now. Something something forbidden knowledge.

It's all connected somehow but I can't understand.

I still think that The Boar Princess tells the story of Imunlaukr and how he came to Sal Vindagnyr. I think he brought something that resulted in Celestia nailing the place. The story then has been erased from Irminsul and all that we have now is a pathetic fairytale book with some vague hints.

Also. Childe's shoulder ornament resembles the one angelic dude wears, Childe's scarf ornament resembles the alchemical symbol for antimony (associated with wolves and the penultimate step to purifying gold. idk, western esotericism is weird), the description of the Boar Princess wolf's mental state change sounds uncannily similar to Childe.

Also the squirrel from the tale. "Of all the beings in the ancient world, none were more evil than Woobakwa — not even demons and dragons." ("extremely evil technique" repeatedly encountered in CN names of Childe's skills and constellations), and Surtalogi being called "Extremely evil knight" (极恶骑) in Chinese.

You know, I think there are enough parallels to assume at least the same samsara if not the same martial art with the same teacher. I think Surtalogi or someone who taught him had a hand in whatever happened to Sal Vindagnyr.

(and also whatever technique Childe wields, it has a potential to get a place nailed)

Sal Vindagnyr destruction also predates Khaenri'ah and the Cataclysm by five hundred years, so either this guy was not initially Khaenri'ahn (and, by association, maybe neither was Gold), or we have to brace ourselves for levels of powerscaling previously unknown to science.

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

Hello!

I've got a Gallifreyan friend living here on Earth. They've managed to fit in and get used to the planet, but they've been feeling homesick. So, my question is: what are some of the ways to make them feel like they are back on Gallifrey? I don't know anything about the culture, or their ways of living, or the food... I'm willing to learn and help out a friend!

Thank you in advance!

Helping your Gallifreyan friend feel a touch of home on Earth is a thoughtful and caring gesture. Here's how to sprinkle some Gallifreyan into their Earthly life.

🌌 Create a Cosy Gallifreyan Look

Gallifrey has some stunning vistas your friend may be missing. If you live together or otherwise have the opportunity, you could decorate their room or communal rooms to show that off - mimic the burnt orange skies and silver-leafed flora of Gallifrey by adorning a room with warm, orange hues, silver accents, and perhaps a mural of the iconic Citadel if you're feeling daring. LED lights, sunset lamps, and maybe even a DIY Kasterborous constellation on the ceiling could bring the Gallifreyan heavens right to your living room. You could also incorporate the elegant, circular Gallifreyan script into gifts, wall art, or even coasters.

📚 Literature and Art

Dive into Earth's science fiction and fantasy, finding parallels with Gallifreyan epics. Maybe host a "Gallifreyan Book Club," where each read is followed by a lively debate on temporal ethics.

🔠 Language

Learning Gallifreyan phrases is no small feat, but even mastering a "Good Morning" can demonstrate a real interest in your friend's culture and make them feel more homely.

🍲 A Taste of Gallifrey

Gallifreyan dishes might be elusive on Earth, but you can experiment. Create dishes inspired by the diverse tastes of the cosmos—maybe a dessert that's a visual tribute to the Untempered Schism, with swirling patterns and a touch of edible silver, or even just recipes with unique ingredients or cooking methods that are out of the ordinary.

🌿 Gallifrey in Bloom

If you have the space, create a small garden or indoor plant area silver-leaved plants (dusty miller or lamb's ear) and vibrant orange blooms (marigolds or California poppies). This can be a peaceful spot for your friend to feel connected to the landscapes of Gallifrey.

🌐 Stimulate the Gallifreyan Mind

Gallifreyans love a good puzzle. Why not organise a game night every week with logic puzzles and strategy games, or even just a book club focusing on topics like astrophysics, philosophy, or time travel.

🌟 Cosmic Connection

Arrange nights dedicated to observing the cosmos, maybe with a telescope borrowed from your local astronomy club. Discussing the stars, their histories, and mysteries is a great night for a Gallifreyan.

🔄 Earthly Traditions, Gallifrey Style

Merge Earth holidays with Gallifreyan customs. Too start with, Otherstide and Christmas are quite similar, it would be very easy to mix the two.

🤝 Telepathic Bonding (Metaphorically)

Living on a planet without a telepathic culture can make Gallifreyans feel quite cut off. While you can't establish a literal telepathic connection, deep conversations that allow for sharing thoughts can mimic this bond.

🏫 So...

Helping your friend alleviate their homesickness by incorporating elements of Gallifreyan culture into your shared experiences is a fab idea. It's the small gestures that will remind them that, while they might be far from Gallifrey, they're never truly alone. 🌍💫🌟

Hope that helped! 😃

-------------------------------------------------------

》📫Got a question / submission? 》😆Jokes |🫀Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts 》📚Complete list of Q+A 》📜Masterpost If you like what GIL does, please consider buying a coffee or tipping below to help make future projects, including complete biology and language guides.

[elly99]

And Everywhere All At Once

Part 3 of 3. Check here for more details.

In the midst of the crowds In the shapes in the clouds I don't see nobody but you Constellations of stars Murals on city walls I don't see nobody but you

Spend the summer of a lifetime with me Let me take you to the place of your dreams Tell me, do you feel the love?

A night in Seoul. The night you'd been talking about for so long. You were finally meeting again. You had so much to tell her, so much you wanted to ask, but above all, you just wanted to see her in person again. To see the way she shines in the moonlight, under the stars, like she did in Milan.

And then there it was. Her voice. Cutting through the drone of the city. As sweet as it was the first time you heard it.

"Hey!"

You turn around to see her running to you, arms outstretched. You smile the widest you'd ever smiled and run towards her, taking her into your arms, nearly lifting her up with how much you missed her.

"It's so good to see you," you say softly, tearing up. "I missed you a lot."

"I missed you, too!" she says as she pulls away. You see a sparkle in her eyes telling you she was tearing up as well. "How have you been?"

"I've been great! Been looking forward to tonight. Ever since we met actually."

She takes your hand and smiles. "Me, too."

You return the smile and ask, just like the first time, "Hey, will you go on a walk with me?"

She laughs softly before hugging you again. "I would love nothing more."

It was at a small park near her place where you'd met up. Secluded, nothing fancy, perfect for a cozy evening stroll. But really it didn't matter where you met up. All that mattered was that you did.

After the first few moments of excitement subside, a little awkwardness starts to fill the air. You can feel it in the way she holds your hand. Feel her hand subtly shifting in yours, feel her eyes darting from you to the sky to the ground.

"Oh, how have you been? Sorry, I forgot to ask. Got a little too excited seeing you again," you say, a hint of nervousness in your voice. "You've been so busy the past half year!"

"Wow, I can't believe it's been that long since we last saw each other. Six months." Her eyebrows furrow a little. "But yeah, I've been great! I mean, we've been texting a lot, so you'd know all about it."

"Yeah, I've been following all your stuff! I'm a real Bunny now, I guess. Congrats on Lollapalooza again, by the way! And on your Billboard #1! You guys are incredible."

"Aww, thanks! That means a lot! Yeah, I've been really happy with everything lately. I just feel so lucky and grateful and honored and happy and..." She looks to you and smiles. "Sorry."

"Hey, what are you sorry for?"

"I'm just getting too excited."

"It's no problem! You deserve to be excited! And happy! I know you've been working so hard. You're amazing, Hanni."

And just like that the awkwardness disappeared. She held your hand now with a certainty that wasn't there before. She looks deep into your eyes and whispers, "Thank you." She pauses, looking for something in your gaze, before continuing. "You know, I'm just really excited right now because I get to see you again. Time's flown by so fast and we've been talking almost everyday so it didn't really feel like that long since we last saw each other. But when we scheduled tonight I realized that it really has been six months. And I guess that made me realize just how much I've been missing you."

"I've missed you a lot, too. I remember we had a similar conversation when I got back after Milan. About missing people."

"Yeah, I remember that! I was really emotional that night," she says with a nostalgic smile. Then she looks up at the sky. "And here we are now, under the same stars."

"Here we are now, being stardust together."

That city in Italy was half the world away and half a year had passed since you first met but it still felt like the same night. Like just a continuation of that magical dream you shared. You remember exchanging the same knowing smiles. Knowing that there was something between you that went beyond what words could express. Being with her now felt just like it did back then. It felt right.

"Wanna sit here for a while?" you ask, pointing at a nearby bench under an old tree.

"Sounds good! Hey, tell me more about how you've been! How's uni? Is physics as cool as you were hoping?"

"Oh, yeah! It's been great! It's a lot of work but at least it's something I enjoy. How about you? What do you think you'd want to be studying?"

"Mmm, I'm really into movies these days! So probably film! I do like science, too, so maybe that could be an option as well."

"Right! I saw you asked for a ton of movie recommendations. Have you watched the new Spider-Verse, by the way?"

"Oh. My. Gosh. Yes! And I loved it. It was sooo good!"

"I know right? I think I was bawling for half the movie."

"Aww, really? Same, to be honest. What about it made you cry exactly, though?"

"I think... Just the characters resonated with me a lot. And the idea that love can be so strong that it transcends universes."

"That's a really sweet thought, actually."

She pauses to think about it and smiles. Then she wraps her arms around you, causing you to smile in return.

"What was that for?"

"I don't know. I just felt like it," she says as she pulls away from the hug. "It's just a funny thing, thinking about the multiverse. Like, how many versions of us are out there sitting on this bench right now?"

Assuming it was rhetorical, you don't reply. But you knew that if other universes did exist, there would be an infinite number of versions of you with her, everywhere, all at once. You content yourself with that thought as she continues.

"You know, this feels a lot like when we sat in front of the cathedral."

"Yeah! Though tonight feels a little more real somehow. Do you feel that, too?"

"I do. It just feels different not meeting by chance away from home. Milan really felt like a time out of time, if you know what I mean. Some kind of magic that's hard to describe."

"Yeah, I get that! But I still remember everything so clearly."

"Me, too. I'll never forget it. Meeting you that night, and honestly just talking to you since then has made me reconsider so many things."

"Same!"

"Like sonder. That's been on my mind ever since. It just makes me want to be kinder to everyone I meet. Like see that guy over there? We'll probably never see him again. Tonight's the only time our lives intersect and we'll never get to know what he's really like. But he probably has his own worries and difficulties and... knowing that... doesn't that make you just want to be a little kinder to everyone you meet?"

"Yeah, you know, often when I'm sitting in a park like this, I look at people and try really hard to imagine them as more than just a random passerby. I try to imagine what makes them happy or what difficulties they've been through. How deeply they’ve fallen in love or how much heartbreak they’ve experienced. It's like a compassion exercise."

"I like that. It's always nice sharing in other people's experiences. Sharing your life with someone." She pauses to look at you. "Thank you for sharing your time with me. I know I've said it so many times but, yeah. It makes me really happy."

"I could say the exact same thing to you," you say with a smile. "But back to the guy over there. Did you notice that he was carrying his groceries with him? It didn't seem like he was carrying a lot so there's a good chance he lives alone. And he was walking through the park. If I was carrying my groceries around I'd want to head straight home. I'm guessing he wants to be outside for a while because he has a lot on his mind."

"You're very perceptive about people! And imaginative."

"Well..."

"It's a cool skill to have!"

You smirk a little. "Sure, I'll admit it's cool. Because it got me to talk to you that night. I was sure there was something special about you. And I was right."

"I've thought about that often actually. What this year would have been like if you had never knocked on my door. I'm so glad that you did."

You pause to ponder the possibilities. What could have happened had you stayed silent. What would not have happened between you. You smile realizing how happy you were to be in a universe where you two had this connection.

"You know I was feeling really down that night. There was a lot on my mind."

She nods reassuringly. "I remember."

"One of those thoughts was... Well, I worried that I had felt everything I was ever gonna feel and experienced everything I was ever gonna experience, and from then on out I wasn't going to feel or experience anything new - just lesser repetitions of what I’d already felt. Because of how my life was at the time - moving around all the time. It just felt like a cycle."

"Yeah, I remember you said you felt like your life was just a series of snapshots. Slightly different each time but mostly repetitive. I totally understand that!"

"Exactly. But you happened. You broke that cycle. That night when I saw you I knew it was my chance to change things. To not be afraid of making new connections. To not be afraid of potential loss and just go for it. And you, Hanni..." You take her hand and pull it close to you. "You went above and beyond anything I could have ever expected. You've become my best friend since and the most important person in my life."

You see tears reappear in her eyes. "Aww, man, you're too sweet!"

"I caught myself thinking about it over and over and then I realized that I was just convincing myself that I was unlucky. That it was just the universe's fault for taking people away from me. That it was somehow my destiny. I never really thought about what I could do differently. Isn’t that interesting? Sometimes the past is just a story we tell ourselves and convince ourselves is true. But we can make the present different. And the future, too."

"Yeah, the past is a weird thing. Everyone remembers it slightly differently. And even the same person can remember it differently as time goes on. It's funny that a concrete event can evolve and change in our memories as time goes on."

"Right! Like if I think about our first night in Milan now... I don't know... I remember a lot of what we talked about but now it just feels like a warm afterglow. Like a soft light in my mind."

"That's a great way of putting it! I see that, too. Like the light of a small house in the distance."

A few minutes of silence sitting under the gentle shelter of the tree. You both get lost in your thoughts and enjoy the warmth of that afterglow. Then it hits you. Like an apple falling from a tree right onto Newton's head. You had one very important thing to ask her. But you knew you had to ease into it and asked a simpler question for the moment.

"What's your opinion on trees, Hanni?"

"Mmm, they're really pretty! And in the summer they give us shade. And apples! I love apples. So, yeah, I think they're pretty cool."

You realize that you love how excited she is about life. For the longest time you didn't feel the same, but here with her, just like in Milan, it was like you'd been born again. Like you were discovering the world for the first time.

"How about regrets? Do you have any?"

"That's a sudden change." You see her smile fade slightly and you instantly feel the urge to explain yourself.

"Sorry! I know that's a little heavy but I promise it's all connected. Ok, let me go first." You pause to find the right words. "I do have regrets. Remember how I told you that I've lost contact with so many old friends? How moving around all the time made me sad and anxious?"

"Of course I do."

"Yeah. Well, after Milan, after you," you smile and continue, "after we promised to make the most of that night, I never really stopped making the most of every day after that. You made me happy again in ways that I can't even describe. And so since then I've regretted not trying hard enough. Because relationships are not a one-way street. As much as people drifted away from me, I drifted away from them. Maybe if I tried harder to keep my connections, I wouldn't have lost so many. Maybe if I didn't give up so easily..."

She holds your hand.

"I also regret being unhappy with my life. And I know that being unhappy is normal. It's ok not to be ok. It's just I have so much, I've received so much love, I've experienced so much of the world and, though life may be difficult, I regret not appreciating everything that I have. You helped change that for me. Ever since I met you, I've appreciated every single moment of existence. I know that sounds dramatic but it's true..."

She holds on more tightly. Then responds.

"I have a regrets, too. Not big ones. But sometimes I wish I could do more for others. For our fans especially! They're all so sweet and I wish I could return all their love. So yeah, sometimes I think I could do better at many aspects of my job..."

"You? Being kinder to people? Impossible. You're already the kindest and sweetest person I know. And you being a better idol than you already are? Impossible as well."

"Thank you," she smiles gently. "You're the sweetest person I know! But yeah, sometimes I can't help but feel those things."

You pause for a moment.

"Thanks for sharing, Hanni. So the reason I'm asking all of this is because, sitting under this beautiful tree, I remembered some things I learned about trees a long time ago." You turn to look her in the eyes. "Hanni, we should be more like trees."

She smiles, almost as if she were about to laugh, before asking, "Why is that?"

"So imagine you're a tree. Imagine your regrets, your mistakes, your failures as scars on your skin, like tree carvings on the bark of a tree. Over time tree carvings don't fade or get any smaller as the tree grows, but they don't get any bigger either. So even if your scars don't fade, you as a person can grow and evolve and flourish and, in the end, make your scars a smaller part of yourself."

"I love that."

"And remember how I said I didn't want to give up so easily anymore? Well, you know what happens when trees don't give up so easily?"

"What?"

"Autumn."

"I love autumn! But what do you mean?"

"Red leaves in autumn are the trees giving their all before they succumb to the winter. The harder they fight, the more brilliant their colors become. So as trees we are the most colorful and bright when we don't give up."

Her smile grows to the point that her eyes light up. Or maybe it's the twinkle of the stars in her eyes as tears begin to form. She hugs you to hide her face.

"You're amazing, you know that?"

"So will you be a tree with me, Hanni?"

She releases you from her embrace and meets your eyes once again. "I'd love to."

With that conversation over, you knew you couldn't delay any longer.

"Speaking of trees, I'm thinking of a song right now. And I think it expresses pretty well the way I feel with you. Can I play it for you?"

"Of course!"

Look at me I'm as helpless as a kitten up a tree And I feel like I'm clinging to a cloud I can't understand I get misty just holding your hand

Walk my way And a thousand violins begin to play Or it might be the sound of your hello that music I hear I get misty the moment you're near

Can't you see that you're leading me on? And it's just what I want you to do Don't you notice how hopelessly I'm lost That's why I'm following you

On my own When I wander through this wonderland alone Never knowing my right foot from my left, my hat from my glove I'm too misty and too much in love

Too misty and too much in love

And there it was. The right moment to ask her that question.

"Hanni, I gotta ask. How do you feel about... us? Cuz..." You steel yourself and take a deep breath. "I know I'm in love with you. I have been for a while now."

You look to her and see a stunned expression on her face. For obvious reasons. You feel doubt creep into your mind as to whether you made the right decision.

"Sorry, does that make me a freak? Am I crazy? I know we've only been texting and calling and this is only our second time meeting in person but I know I've never felt like this for anyone else before. And I know we have something special."

She quickly grabs your hand again and smiles at you reassuringly.

"No, no. I get it. You know I think love is... I think anybody that falls in love is a freak. It’s such a crazy, stupid, insane, but wonderful thing to do. It’s like socially acceptable insanity, isn't it?. Everybody knows it can go so wrong. You can get rejected, couples can break up. But people still confess. People still love."

"So... do you..."

She stops you before you can finish.

"But meeting you that night made me realize that we're all here only briefly. The time we have with the people we love is short, life can fly by so quickly. So in my time here, I want to allow myself joy and happiness. Even if it is crazy."

She pauses. Looks into your eyes again.

"So yeah, it's crazy, but I'm pretty sure I fell in love with you the night we met. And I've been happier than ever since."

"I..."

Seeing that you were at a loss for words, she hugs you. But with both of your confessions out on the table, her embrace felt that much warmer.

When she lets go, however, her expression betrays a hint of concern.

"But... I'm not sure if I can commit to a relationship just yet. You know how my job is..."

"Hanni, I understand completely! Don't worry," you say, giving her a reassuring smile.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course!"

"I'm just afraid we'll change as time goes on and you won't like me anymore or we'll have different responsibilities that keep us apart. Before we even have a chance to be together."

"I get scared of change, too. You know that about me more than most at this point. But that's just it. Everyone's changing. All the time. And it's exciting to see people grow and change and share in that. You're the one who taught me that."

You take her hand again.

"And yes it's always hard to truly know someone if we're always changing. It's hard for people to even know themselves. But like you said before, it's about the attempt. And I'm not afraid of trying anymore. Because I feel safe with you."

"There's no safer place than home," she says softly.

Your heart flutters. Indeed you were home with her.

"So you'll wait for me?"

"Always. I love you, Hanni."

"I love you, too."

And there it was. Those three words exchanged between the two of you for the first time.

In a whisper she asks, "Can I kiss you?"

You can only nod shyly in response. As she slowly leans in you close your eyes. First you feel her hand gently pulling you closer. Then it's her lips on yours. Through closed eyes you see all the stars in the night sky. And every sky across the multiverse.

No matter the form of existence, you would love her. In every universe and every timeline you would have fallen for her. No matter how long it would take, you would wait for her. Because her name was in your heart. And it was Hanni.

[thatskynews]

Known Issues Patch 0.24.0

We are aware of the following bugs that are ongoing or were introduced with the arrival of Patch 0.24.0:

Season of the Nine-Colored Deer

🔹 Riding on the Nine-Colored deer during fetch quest 3 may have some visual vibration on some platforms.

🔹 While doing the Feudal Lord or the Herb Gatherer’s Spirit Quests, the memories characters may suddenly disappear or flicker. However, players should be able to complete the memory normally.

🔹 Boost given to players when entering the underwater tunnel is too strong, causing camera clipping and disorientation.

🔹 If players do not finish the first quest and return later through the return shrine, the mural cutscene will play instead of the scene for quest 1.

🔹 Bloom may be too bright on elements of the Princess spirits quest memories.

🔹 Nine-Colored Deer figure disappears from the mural after completing quests 1 and 2.

Days of Fortune

🔹 Sitting at a meditation circle may cancel the Dragon Train feature.

🔹 Players may not hear the sounds of the Days of Fortune drum.

General

🔹 The map shrine located in the Aviary Village may not open the map when sitting at the meditation circle.

🔹 A spirit may appear in Home/Aviary Village when new players unlock Hidden Forest for the first time.

🔹 Friends may appear as offline in the Friendship Constellation and players may not be able to teleport to their location.

🔹 While interacting with the Shared Space menu bar, players outside of the space may not appear blue to players viewing the Shared Space. Players inside the Shared Space may not appear blue to players from outside of the Shared Space.

🔹 Ongoing issue that prevents new default hairstyles from saving across play sessions.

We appreciate your patience and apologize for any inconvenience these may cause while we work to resolve them in a future update.

[danmainacc]

DOUBLE TAKE BY DHRUV

double take by dhruv song-fic ( shot technically ). this song is so pretty :’) it used to make me cry every time I heard it

Character: Donatello

Writing type: Song-fic

Warnings: fluffy fluff yet again :) maybe a few innuendos cause it’s me >:)

Author’s Note: SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG. A WHOLE BUNCH OF WORK CAME UP. i luv donnie so much <3  ( header credit to qoeww ) song lyrics are in italic

...

I could say I never dare

To think about you in that way

But, I would be ly-ing

Donnie slowly lifted his gaze from his blueprints, practically fighting against himself to keep his stare from traveling back to you, who was sitting on his desk.

You were reading your book intently, eyes trained on the pages, with your tongue slightly poked out, a thing you would do when you were focused.

You two were friends, and have been for who knows how long, but Donnie’d be a liar if he said he never wondered what it’d be like you were more.

And I pretend I’m happy for you

When you find some dude to take home

But I won’t deny that

“Ugh,” you groaned, walking into Donnie’s room and plopping yourself on his beanbag in anguish. “Yet another nightmare date for the history books.”

“What was it this time? He has 27 gerbils? Thinks California’s a country? *gasp* Is he from Staten Island?” Donnie half-heartedly joked, his heart breaking with each one.

He wanted to be the one to take you out, he wanted to be the one to sweep you off your feet. But you were just stuck in this cycle of terrible blind dates, not even noticing what was right in front of you.

“Ha ha, very funny,” you playfully scoffed, kicking off your heels and snuggling into the soft chair.

In the midst of the crowds

In the shapes, in the clouds

I don’t see nobody but you

In my rose-tinted dreams

Wrinkles silk on my sheets

I don’t see nobody but you

‘Focus, Donatello. Damn.’

The turtle groaned and flopped his head on his work-desk in anguish, arms hanging in defeat.

He was trying to write the blueprint for a new gadget that he needed for around the lair, but every time he got into the groove of drawing the shapes, they always seemed to look like you.

He was seeing you everywhere. In his dreams, in his blueprints, hell, in the foam in his coffee.

Boy, you got me hooked onto something

Who could say that they saw us coming?

Tell me

“(y/n)....I love you.”

Do you feel the love~?

“No, no, that’s not right,” Donnie dismissed, shaking his head at himself in the mirror.

“That’s too forward. I’ll scare her away.”

Spend the summer or a lifetime with me

Let me take you to the place of your dreams

Tell me

“(y/n)...I deeply care for you in a way that is not platonic.”

Do you feel the love~?

“Nope, definitely not.”

And I could say I never unzipped

Those blue Levi’s inside my head

But that’s far from the truth

Donnie snapped his eyes open, abruptly sitting up from his bed, the image of your bare ass still clear in his mind. 

“Jesus, Donatello,” he groaned, covering his red face with his hands as he noticed the friend sticking up in his lower region.

“Get it together.”

Don’t know what’s come over me

It seems like yesterday when I said

“We’ll be friends forever”

“It’s crazy to think that we’ve been friends for 8 years today,” you happily smiled, turning to your best friend.

You two had decided to go to the place where you first met, a secluded part of Central Park, in honor of your Friend-iversary

“Yeah, man,” Donnie sighed, turning to look up to the sky, his smirk slowly melting into a sad smile

“Friends.”

Constellations of stars

Murals on city walls

I don’t see nobody but you

“Almost done~,” you cooed as you placed Donnie in the center of the alleyway, running over to prepare the tarp.

“(n/n), if this is another beach ball prank, I don’t think I’ll be able to forgive you,” he sighed, crossing his arms as the patter of your sneakers got louder.

“Oh, relax. That was one time. And his is completely different,” you assured, placing a hand on you friend’s shoulder.

“Alright, take it off!”

Donnie untied the blindfold and lifted his gaze to see that you had painted a portrait of the two of you hugging on the alley wall.

It was beautiful, so vibrant and life-like that you’d think the picture could breathe.

“You like~?” you smirked, wiggling your eyebrows at your friend’s awestruck face.

“It’s....It’s amazing,” Donnie smiled, biting back a couple tears.

You’re my vice, you’re my muse

You’re a nineteenth floor view

I don’t see nobody but you

“I cannot allow myself to be shown up by your breath-taking painting, so I have decided to bring you here,” Donnie smirked, his hands covering your eyes as he walked you out onto the roof of the building.

“Uh huh. And where is here exactly?” you smirked, turning to your turtle friend.

“You’re about to find out,” he smirked, releasing your eyes.

“Viola!”

You opened your eyes to see that you were on the rooftop of an incredibly tall building that overlooked the entirety of New York City.

The view was phenomenal, you were able to see practically everything, from Lady Liberty all the way to...*shudder*...Staten Island.

“Donnie! You didn’t! This is awesome! I love it,” you smiled, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight hug.

The turtle turned dark red, eyes wide at the sudden gesture, but he quickly recovered, wrapping his arms around you.

Boy, you got me hooked onto something

Who could say that they saw us coming

Tell me

“I love you,” Donnie thoughtlessly sighed under his breath.

Do you feel the love~?

“Huh?”

“NOTHING!”

Spend the summer or a lifetime with me

Let me take you to the place of your dreams

Tell me

“I could’ve sworn you said something.”

“I didn’t hear anything.”

Do you feel the love~?

“Donnie....”

Boy, you got me hooked onto something

Who could say that they saw us coming

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! Gee, it’s getting late. WE SHOULD PROBABLY GET GOING!”

Tell me

“DONNIE!”

“WHAT?!

“I LOVE YOU, TOO!”

Do you feel the love~?

“You what?” Donnie went wide.

Spend the summer or a lifetime with me

Let me take you to the place of your dreams

Tell me

“Donnie....I’ve loved you for years. I just never...I just never thought you would feel the same.”

Just then, Donnie grabbed you by your waist and roughly pulled you into him, smashing his lips onto yours with a longing that was even obvious to you.

Do you feel the love~?

After a few more the seconds, the two of you pulled apart, breathless and red.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

...

[lairofdragonagelore]

Dragon Age Iconic Patterns: The Sun

In this post I will try to extensively gather all the sun-based or sun-like imagery that we find in all the games of Dragon Age. From the most typical ones to those which may seem obscure or with a hidden allegory/design. I will qualify their resemblance with the Sun symbol as Strong, Weak or other.

This post contains the following symbols

Chantry Sunburst

Elvhenan Culture: Sun symbol among the Evanuris

Elvhenan Culture: Asterisk Symbol and Elvhenan Doors

Elvhenan Culture: Golden Ring

Elvhenan Culture: Crappy Sun

Elvhenan Culture: Elgar’nan and Sylaise

Elvhenan Culture: Murals

Tevinter Culture: Green Star

Tevinter Culture: different decorative elements

Dwarven Culture: Fairel and Dwarven art

Ferelden Culture: The Sun Face and the geometrical Sun

Grey Wardens and the Sun

Avvar and the Sun

Flemeth

Qunari, Par Vollen, and the Solium Constellation

DAO design

Free Marches Rural Areas

[This post belongs to the series “Analysis and speculation of Statues”]

[Strong] Chantry Sunburst

The most typical one that appears in DA series is the Sun or Sunburst with wavy rays, repeated so much along the games that we can identify it immediately. It’s the unequivocally symbol of the Chantry. We found it in many versions, and it represents the “dawn” with the idea of hope and “new beginnings”, but also the fire that “purified” Andraste in her pyre to let her ascend to the Maker’s side. In the posts of Andrastian Art [Andrastian Design: Stained Glasses], we also find that “balls of fire” [which can be interpreted as a Sun in another way] are shown to represent the Maker or the Faith in Him.

Andraste’s single spiked helm seems to be inspired in a single sun ray, at least this is what an illustration in the Chant of Light [book of World Of Thedas] seems to suggest.

In general, most of the representations of the Chantry Sun have 16 rays.

The same sun-like symbol appears in its Tevinter version when we see the Imperial Chantry; the only difference with the Orlesian one is that the Tevinter Sunburst has straight rays.

As a detail, in DAO, we had the typical representation of the wavy sunburst present in some strange devices of Tevinter origin, for example, the ones we found in [Brecilian ruins], while the main Church in Denerim, or in Haven, display spikes that, more than resembling a sun, look like thorns or even a thorny vine. This may be a consequence of an original plan in linking, design-wise, the chantry symbology with the thorny vines that represent the Blight or the Darkspawn [As we explained in the section “Non-mural symbol: Thorny vines” from Murals in DAI: Basics], or merely it was a limitation of the design of the game, as we know DAO suffers from.

We also know that tranquils should display this symbol on their foreheads, burnt with lyrium, but as we saw along DAO, none of them had it. Later we were informed that the devs had problems to add this mark on the npc, therefore, it was never shown until DA2. When it comes to this symbol, it is interesting to see that tranquils carry the metaphor of “a Sun burning their minds and emptying them”, which may or may not be related with Dwarves and their fear to the Sun and potential relatinship of Elgar'nar shoving a fire ball into their underground lands [More details of this concept in Deep Roads [DLC Trespasser]: Lower Walkways in particular with the codex  Torn Notebook in the Deep Roads,].

[Strong] Elvhenan Culture: Sun symbol among the Evanuris

Strangely close to the Chantry Sunburst symbol, we find the “half” sun symbol [tagged along the blog as Sun-head creature] in what we suspect was one of the ancient primordial dragon symbols that some Evanuris took over when they claimed Divinity [for more context, read Attempt to rebuild Ancient Elvhenan History]. It’s hard to say which Evanuris took control of this symbol, but we know there is a clearly sun-like symbol present in the Crossroads of the DLC [as a statue, check The Crossroads [DLC Trespasser]: Entrance] and in the Shattered Library [as an Eluvian, check  Shattered Library; Entrance and Courtyard]. With the release of the Vinyl, we also discovered and reinforced the hypothesis that this symbol belongs to or was co-opted by an Evanuris [read Speculations about the Vinyl Art for details] thanks to the image of an elf wearing a hat with that shape.

A consistent detail of this image is that it’s a half-sun with exactly 7 rays.

[Weak] Elvhenan Culture: Asterisk Symbol and Elvhenan Doors

If we extend this imagery, and check other symbols that may look similar to a sun, we find the ancient Elvhenan Doors [Elven Ancient Shard-based door], which top displays a pointy sun of 8 rays that may or may not be related to the Asterisk symbols [also related to the Titan’s core, which I talked about in the post of Murals  “The Death of a Titan”]. In the way the door gets illuminated when activated also makes us see a “circle” in it that can be loosely related to the “Golden Ring shape”. More details about this ring will be treated below.

This strange sun on the ancient door also makes us think in the Asterisk Symbol [made of 8 points], which lays at the centre of the yellow mosaic, which may be related to the core of a Titan [asterisk of 8 points too]. The link is immediate when we see that this asterisk is outlined by a shape that looks like a star or a Sun, inside a big ball with triangular-shape ends. This same symbol appears in the last Trailer of DA4, behind Solas, when he is presented like an Hermit, mysterious, apostate mage. Around this “sun” we can make out several concentric lines that may refer to a “Golden Ring”.

The Asterik symbol also appears in murals such as  “The Creation of the Veil” or “The Death of a Titan”, which allowed us to relate them with the core of a Titan and its immense power of "making real what you imagine"reinforcing the reality", but this symbol also appears in a corner of Solas’ tarot card.

The yellow mosaic also has some shapes at the four corners that may represent eluvians or something related to Mythal. In the mural of “the Temple of Mythal” from  “The actions of the Inquisitor”, we see that Solas draw a particular star of 8 points inside a door frame that resembles this “eluvian outline”, but it’s also the shape of the doors of the Temple of Mythal which represents Mythal herself in her dragon shape. All these symbols seem to reinforce the idea we explored in “The Death of a Titan”: Mythal seems to be related to the core power of a Titan represented by an asterisk that evolves into a golden ring and into a sun.

As I repeated several times in Speculations about the Vinyl Art, at times, we find some hints where stars or balls of fires [also understood as suns] are related to Mythal and Elgar’nan, making us suspect that, maybe, Mythal and Elgar’nan share a nature similar to Falon’Din and Dirthamen’s: apparently, the same creature with two different aspects from them. If this were the case, associating Mythal with the Sun would make sense, and it would also explain why, if Elgar’nan was so central in the Elvhenan culture, there are so few representations and statues of him, while Mythal overwhelms it.

[Weak] Elvhenan Culture: Golden Ring

During the last trailer of DA4, we see Solas turns into the Black Dread Wolf as a sun in the background becomes a moon [single golden circle] and later, it separates itself into concentric rings, that may or may not be related to the “Golden Ring” so deeply entangled with Elvhenan culture. Thanks to this imagery, we may relate the Sun to the Golden Ring [specially if we consider that the mural presented in Nation Art: Elvhen displays the yellow ring in a position that may be considered “the sun”, but also the "authority/power above"]

We need to remember that the Golden Ring’s presence is always associated with control, power, and occasionally to Mythal and Dirthamen. In the mural of the “zombie elves”, it’s above all of them, and due to this position, it could be interpreted like a “sun” or moon upon the controlled, zombified elves. But I’m not too convinced in this interpretation, since we already explored in posts such as: Nation Art: Elvhen, Exalted Plains: Ghilan’nain’s Grove and the Dead Hand, DLC: Jaws of Hakkon - Frostback Basin, Elvhen Tomb, Ancient Elven codices; Fen’Harel’s mountain ruins, The Crossroads [DLC Trespasser]: Elven Mountain Ruins; Vine-covered Tower, Murals in DAI: The Death of a Titan, and Speculations about the Vinyl Art that this ring was more related to control, power, or even forced change/shape in some cases. Due to its power or potential knowledge, it's also associated to Dirthamen Owl [which also could be Andruil's owl according some inconsistencies in the same Unreliable Dalish legends].

On the other hand, it’s never clear if this symbol may have morphed into a sun along the ages with the loss of memory that the Elves had throughout generations when they lost their immortality. However, I tend to consider that this Golden Ring may have changed into a Sun when it entered in contact with human groups, in the same way that I see the story of Fen'Harel gave enough context for humans to create the Maker myth based on him, potentially during the time of Halamshiral [for more details, read The Chantry and the Mythology of the Chant of Light]

This ring also appears in the last scene of DAI, when we defeat Corypheus, showing Mythal inside it, as bits of red lyrium sprout around it. This can be related to many speculations done in Speculations about the Vinyl Art, where we can conclude that another fragment/part of Mythal is still trapped in the Black City, corrupted, and contained by an immense power that may have been used before by the rest of the evanuris to control their own people.

The Golden Ring has also been seen enclosing Elven Tree Statues and Elven Orbs, implying its relationship with elvhenan power and/or Mythal’s [after all, we know that Mythal took the power from a Titan from which elvhen orbs were developed, and trees are also her symbol, according her vallaslin]. It's worth noting that the only working orb we saw in the game was Mythal’s, so far.

[Weak] Elvhenan Culture: Crappy Sun

There is also a strange symbol that I called “crappy sun” in the ancient tablet we find at the entrance and deep into the tomb of Forbidden Oasis: Solasan Temple [along this blog I’ve tagged it as “Stone in Razikale-Ceremony-style”]. It’s hard to say if it represents a sun or a breach. It may be related to a sun similar to the one of the Elven Ancient Shard-based door that, later, Tevinter co-opted to turn into the several versions of pointy suns we see in Tevinter Pre-blight ruins, [let’s remember they were not Andrastian yet, and still they had this symbology in their buildings and elements because it may have been related to ancient dragons, or taken from another elvhen symbology during the time of the Dreamers since there are some proofs, such as the Tevinter Mosaic [Invasion], that may show that Tevinter had a better relationship with elves back then].

Maybe the original symbol was related to Elgar’nan, as we see in his mosaic, where he shoves down the sun into the earth, and its rays are wavy and a bit “crappy”. If this relationship is correct, maybe what Elgar'nan shoved into the Earth to destroy the dwarves/Titans was not a sun but a breach? Again, a very unlikely hypothesis.

This “crappy sun” also has 8 rays.

[Strong] Elvhenan Culture: Elgar’nan and Sylaise

Elgar’nan’s mosaic was interpreted in the post Evanuris, and basically shows an elf shoving down a Sun of wavy rays into the Earth. It’s easy for us to relate this image to the unreliable Dalish legend of Elgar’nan [read Elgar'nan: God of Vengeance]. Elgar’nan is presented here as the son of the Sun itself, who tried to burn all life on the Land out of Jealousy, so Elgar’nan vowed vengeance against his Father’s cruelty, and his rage won against the fire of the Sun. Then, “Elgar'nan threw the sun down from the sky and buried him in a deep abyss created by the land's sorrow.”

This story can be followed later in the post Emprise du Lion: Pools of the Sun, where we find another unreliable Dalish legend claiming that this place has spring waters because it was here where Elgar’nan shoved the sun into the Earth. I also made a link to Sylaise considering the Elvhenan arenas we can see in this region, the presence of Sylaise’s Shrine, and her thirst for being always competing with someone. These details can make us suspect that this Sun could have been Sylaise [so deeply related to fire, the sun, and also as angry as Elgar’nan according the Song to Sylaise].

It’s very worth noting that these two legends, said by different clans, claim that Elgar’nan pushed the Sun into the Abyss. Another detail we have to assume is that "Abyss", "Beyond the Deep Roads" and "The Void" seem to be one thing related to the places where the Titan sleep [or even inside the Titan themselves] instead of a strange dimensional pocket we never saw before. This links the Elvhenan with the Dwarven in what we speculated in Murals in DAI: The Death of a Titan.

With this relationship, we see again the Sun as a weapon of destruction and control.

[Weak] Elvhenan Culture: Murals

Murals present a red sphere with rays that may imply a Sun .

In the mural “The Creation of the Veil” [1], we find a red sphere inside a black one, making us suspect it’s the big evil released by the Evanuris that Solas isolated with the creation of the Veil. Around it, there are seven “bubbles” with similar “rays” in grey and golden colours that may imply “gates” that would allow us the access to the central “sun” or red sphere.

In the mural “The Death of a Titan” [2] we talked extensively about the asterisk symbol, its representation of a Titan’s heart and all that power associated with it, as well as with Golden Rings. The codex in here speaks of a red sphere that contains fury, and maybe all of this can be related to a sun, or better said, the other way around: a Sun as a sphere of fire, related to fury, and buried below underground to contain its destruction. This also brings us some similarities with the unreliable Dalish legends about Elgar'nan.

In the mural  “Red Lyrium Idol” [3] we also commented how the image looks as if Solas were walking on a sphere of fire. It may be related to the red lyrium idol too. Here, we keep linking this idea of a “sphere of fire” as a potential Sun.

In the murals of “The actions of the Inquisitor” [4], we see several times that the red sphere associated with the big evil isolated behind the thick, impenetrable barrier of the Black City seems to be positioned in places that may allow a soft interpretation as a “sun”in the sky.

These symbols seem to gather more importance as we analysed the Vinyl Art, where we find the concept of the Eclipse [as an ominous symbol of Fen’Harel that covers and hides the Sun] and a lot of iconography of stars, which can be interpreted as “suns”.

[Weak] Tevinter Culture: Green Star

Pre-Blight Tevinter art has a “star” symbol that may be interpreted as a sun, specially if we consider that the inside of this green star displays the symbol of the elvhenan Golden Ring in red colour. However, it seems more likely to be a symbol representing the power that one can extract from the Breaches. The green colour helps in this interpretation and puts it a bit farther away from a sun interpretation than other symbols. However, it keeps linking the Golden Ring with the power of creating a Breach.

[Confusing] Tevinter Culture: different decorative elements

The rest of the symbols in Tevinter objects may have some relationship with the Sun. For example, we find doors, boxes, and columns decorated with an 8-pointed star [1] but we also find another one with 6 points in something that looks like a box [2]. The shape of an “hexagonal” sun of 8-pointy rays can be found as well in objects like the “scrying orb” [4].

Among the outfits, we find a 3-ray comb used by Tevinter women [3], which may be related to the sun-based symbol of an Old God [and potentially related to the corresponding Evanuris associated with it]. This symbol is a lot closer to the "Sun-head creature" we found among Elvhenan objects.

As a curious one, I will always point out the strange, hidden Sun figure that belongs to the Free Marches decoration that can be found at the entrance of the Inner Sanctum in Western Approach: The Still Ruins, Viridis Walk and Inner Sanctum.

I think it’s clear and safe to say that most of the sun-based symbols present in Tevinter culture [and previous to their conversion to Andrastian religion] may have been originated from the contact with the Elvhenan [during the Dreamer time where we can see less repulsion to Elvhen according the Tevinter Mosaics] or [most likely] with the dragons that may have been related to the Elvhenan, as I made the connection in the comic post The Missing.

[Weak] Dwarven Culture: Fairel and Dwarven art

The Dwarves, at least the ones in the Fairel’s ruins, may have some link with the Sun as well. In these ruins we find the same exact stone tablet we find in the Ancient Elvhenan tombs [1], which displays the “crappy sun” I commented above. Once again, it could be a sun but also a breach, so there is no much sense to keep focusing on it.

Another symbol to relate the Sun to the Dwarves may or may not be an old “Dwarven stone-paintings” we saw since DAO, which basically shows a dwarf working the stone [3]. Based on symmetry, we could assume that the triangles on the background are stalagmites, but if we stretch-out this interpretation, they could even be seen as a sun with its rays. It’s very unlikely, since it seems to be more a design resource to highlight the scene of the stone-painting, but for completion’s sake I think it’s worthy to keep it commented here.

However, this simple design allows us to interpret it in different ways: the spikes we see can be pieces of rock protruding from the ground and the Dwarf in it is mining them [as its original codex in DAO seems to imply], but also it could be understood as a quarter of a Sun peeking through the corner of the image as a Dwarf works tirelessly.

Later in DAI we are introduced to another piece of art of similar characteristics [2]. The building was never possible to be identified unequivocally, and in posts like “Architecture of Kirkwall : Gallows and Lowtown/Darktown” I related it to representations of Kirkwall or cities that may be similar to Kirkwall where the runecraft mastery of dwarves was used [and probably, it was a source of pride for these clans, who may have kept the achievement immortalised in a piece of art reproduced among the noble dwarven families]. This piece also shows a background very similar to the one in [3] that may be a representation of stalagmites or a sun, if it’s stretched-out enough.

Another strange symbol in the dwarven furniture is the one presented in some stone-seats: an elaborated metal image that shows thorny vines on or over a sun [4]. This symbol appears in many other parts of the game where there are dwarven rooms, but also in Arbor Wilds :Cradle of Sulevin where we can read the Vir Tanadhal, However, in this case, the symbol is not completely the same one than in the Hissing Wastes: Fairel tomb.

It’s hard to suspect if this is a mere reuse of assets, it has a lore-related meaning, or it’s just a reflection that the Dwarves and the Ancient Elvhen had a relationship quite ancient [as it shows the Elvhen tree and its dwarven, more geometrical style, that I’ve been pointing out since DAO in Orzammar]. We have to remember that the Ancient Elvhenan saw the dwarves as soulless creatures, workers of the “pillars of Earth” and worthless. However, I always claimed it was never clear if this was a reference to ancient Dwarves that were linked to the Titan deeply to the point that they became Sha-Brytol after the break of the link, or were related to more independent dwarves as the ones we see now, who have a sense of Stone, but can’t understand the Titan with the exception of some gifted ones [such as Valta].

Finally, the dwarves have an additional aspect related to the Sun in the very unreliable codex called Torn Notebook in the Deep Roads, Section 2. I wrote about this codex in a more integral way in Deep Roads [DLC Trespasser]: Lower Walkways. But basically an ex-Dalish elf [now a Qun converted] relates Elgar’nan’s fire [which another unreliable Dalish legend, Elgar'nan: God of Vengeance, claims he shoved the Sun into the Earth] to the fear to the Sun that Dwarves experience [Read the section Elgar’nan and Sylaise above]. This may have been a Dev’s choice to makes us aware that there exists a relationship between the Sun and the dwarves, even though there is no lore material that can make it clear enough.

[Strong] Ferelden Culture: The Sun Face and the geometrical Sun

In the Tryptich presented in Andrastian Design: Tapestry and Tryptich, we find three symbols on top of each part of the scene: the six-snakes that represent Tevinter, the golden city above all the image representing the Maker or the Chantry Religion, and over the section of Ferelden/Orlais chantry, a 8-pointed sun which rays look like triangles. Once again, the resemblance of this symbol with the elvhenan sun in the mural “Temple of Mythal” is remarkable [check the Temple of Mythal in “The actions of the Inquisitor”] or the sun shape in the elvhenan yellow mosaic or in the background of Solas in the Trailer of DA:D. This could come from different roots:

1- An Orlesian root, considering how much of the elvhenan influence it had during the time of the Halamshiral and the coexistence of humans and elves in the Dales for some years [to the point where inter-racial families were made, as it was hinted all over the Exalted Plains]. I spoeculated how the idea of the Maker may have been developed during this time in the post The Chantry and the Mythology of the Chant of Light

2- Another potential root is related to the Alamarri root, and therefore, linked to the Avvar: this sun may be a representation of the Lady of the Sky for the same reasons I will explain below in the Section Avvars and the Sun.

We can find similar icon in the book World of Thedas, where they show a unique Ferelden Tryptich [3], which top displays this symbol with a sun that even may have a shape of a Golden Ring within it. In either case, we know that this symbol later was part of the Ferelden Chantry, which sun is very pointy, as DAO showed it [see the first section in this post: Chantry Sunburst].

In DAI, we find in some small towns of Ferelden, a unique strange Sun with a crying face [1]. On it we see a bird and a squirrel. It’s hard to know exactly what this is, [check the post Nation Art: Ferelden], but maybe it can be understood as a representation of Andraste made by Ferelden culture mixed with some local animals and fables created as a mixture of cultures, similar to the tale that related Wyverns to Andraste [check the wyvern section in Dragon Age Iconic Patterns: The single spike].

There is also a fish drawn in the DLC of Hakkon on a fisherman shack [2], which displays a pattern that can be related to the “crappy sun” designs on its skin. Not sure what to make about it. The closest is that the Avvar represented this symbol as a way to reflect what they may have seen in the Isle of the Lady, where a big ancient breach have been there, open, since the time of Telana [read about this in “The Veil and the preservation of the Waking World” from the post Frostback Basin [DLC]: Miscellaneous ].

[Strong] Grey Wardens and the Sun

The typical symbol of the Grey Wardens involves a chalice that represents the Joining ritual. It always displays a Sun, and not any sun: it’s one with a strong resemblance to the Sunburst of the Chantry. Let’s remember that the Grey Wardens was and is an independent Order that doesn’t respond to the Chantry, and even more so: it was created before the existence of the Chantry, and before Andraste was born. So any quick explanation that this sun is present in this object due to some potential influence from the Chantry seem unlikely.

However, as I showed in Western Approach: The Still Ruins, Main Chamber and Hall of Silence, there are griffons with this same chalice that belonged to pre-Blight Tevinter, maybe remotely associated with Dumat in some ways [since they appear in a hall called “Hall of Silence”, and Dumat=Silence]. We know that the Joining, as a ritual of blood magic, came from the knowledge of Arlathan elves and Tevinter Mages during the desperate times of the First Blight when nothing seemed to stop the darkspawn and even slaying Dumat did not work the first time. Therefore, this Sun may have some relationship with the elvhenan, the Old Gods, or just the blood magic that allowed the creation of the Joining.

[Curious] Avvar and the Sun

The Avvar have a symbol that I always found very Sun-like due to its design and cultural concept: The Lady of the Sky. It’s not only the concept; the lady of the sky can be any important object in the sky; moons or suns. Since Thedas has two moons, it seems more plausible to think of her as unique as the Sun itself.

In the painting that represents her (found on a wall in the Frostback Mountains) we see a design of an owl which shape looks like a Sun. Even her sculpture in Skyhold displays small spikes around her neck which give her a low-key “sun-like” design, specially if we relate this shape with the “sun” shape we saw in the Ancient Elvhenan Yellow Mosaic or with the star we saw in the “Temple of Mythal” mural [in “The actions of the Inquisitor”] or with the Sun that appears behind Solas in the trailer.

Curiously, her banner displays her eyes in a shape that looks similar to the Golden Ring shape, but in black colour. That the Avvar have an art that may have resemblance with Elvhenan's is not strange for me if we remember that  Tyrdda Bright-Axe Path’s story narrates that her lover was an elf that, as it is hinted, may have been the Lady of the Sky herself. This means that the Avvar always were a culture under the influence of the Elvhenan and the Dwarves [due to the marriages they arranged with the children of the Stone].

[Weak] Flemeth

Flemeth also had a unique concept art that shows all of her nature in one drawing: her dragon shape, Mythal, as the central part of it over a human figure that may be a petitioner; a bit aside and as if she were in a inner ring of a brown sphere, The Witch of the Wild: Flemeth, with a very particular staff inside a yellow circle that may be interpreted as a Sun. And very hidden in the corner, in the core of this sphere, now black, we see her as an "old, old woman" with a big eye drawn on her apron, at the edge of a cliff [potentially representing the fragment of Mythal that lives inside her]. This kind of eye is very similar to the ones that we see in the concept art armours of Mythal’s temple guardians. I assume it has to do with her omnipresence due to the manipulation of dreams [we know that she presented herself in dreams to an elf and marked him with the Vallaslin of Mythal after awakening, check the video]

Mythal also has bland hints related to Elgar’nan symbology, which is related to the sun, fire, and balls of fire with anger [check all this in the posts Speculations about the Vinyl Art and “The Death of a Titan”]. Flemeth ends up being related to all this since she carries a fragment of Mythal in her.

[Strong] Qunari, Par Vollen, and the Solium Constellation

The Qunari have little link with the Sun, but not the land they conquered. In the book World of Thedas we are informed about the existence of the Fex, a race we never saw nor had much information beyond the fact that they exist. May they be related to the Sun or a Sun-base proto religion? We don't know.

In the Codex Constellation: Solium, we learn that this constellation [which looks like a Sun/Star, image above, pretty similar to the Chantry Sunburst I may add] may have been a representation of the Sun or the Moon [or both] for the Neomerian [Ancient Tevinters], however, it could also represent Elgar’nan, since unreliable Dalish legends claim him to be the “eldest of the Sun”.

Another Codex, called  The Pyramids of Par Vollen, tells us that the Jungles of this continent have ancient ruins that doesn’t seem to be tombs but places of scientific purposes. The shape of these ruins fits perfectly with the constellation of Solium, making them, in some way or another, related to the Sun. These pyramids are a great mystery in the DA lore, especially for their total lack of information beyond this codex. We know their walls show images of “intricate sea creatures, shipwrights, musicians, archers, and kings. Odd figures are depicted, tall, horned, always in a position of authority and respect.” It seems that there was no resistance when the Qunari came to conquer this place, so we can suspect that this previous civilization embraced the Qun without much resistance, in part, because the Qunari have horns, and that caused respect and authority. Or the civilisation had been gone long ago when they came. Or it was a civilisation that was developed by or under the authority of the Kossith, the ancient Qunari who had no Qun.

The brief description of these ruins also makes me link it, potentially, with the underground ruins we find in  The Horror of Hormak .

[Confusing] DAO design

This section tries to relate the Sun shape with designs that may make the connection a bit stretched or not truly reasonable, therefore, DAO leads this part, lol.

We find that many places along the game, specially the ones related to puzzles [Honnleath and Enchanter Wilhelm’s basement] or to Tevinter experiments [Ruins of Brecilian Forest] display a platform on the ground with a symbol similar to the Sunburst of the Chantry. I’m not sure why they are there, specially in the Brecilian Forest, since we know this was a fortress probably developed by Tevinter [ which potentially may have co-opted, as usual, an ancient Elvhenan building and claimed it as its own] just to be taken by Dalish and humans later. This Fortress is a mess in terms of design and statues that it displays, so it’s hard, if not impossible, to truly take it seriously. To me it all feels more like a reuse of graphical resources, but just for the sake of completion, I add the present section.

More of these sun-like platforms can be found in the Tower of the Circle of Magi [which could potentially make sense since the tower was made by Avvar and Dwarves, and it may be a representation of the Lady of the Sky, as we saw in the Avvar section of this post] but also in the Temple of Andraste or in Denerim at the Fort Drakon which makes less sense [unless it is taken as a symbol from the Chantry itself]. Again, these inconsistencies make me suspect the reuse of assets in a game that could not afford to have 5 different platforms designs.

[Confusing] Free Marches Rural Areas

Another place where I found a sun-like symbol was in a very disturbing image of the book World of Thedas associated with a cautionary tale told to Free Marches kids. In it, we see that people/children are punished if they go outside a bubble of darkness with small “sun-like” symbols floating around. Each of these kids have a symbol on their belly or head. Curiously, one of these symbols is a small spiral that I’ve brought the attention upon long ago in the post Hinterlands: Statues, paintings, and structures found in the open where we found the alamarri statue I called Eroded dragon skull which has a “G symbol” on its back, which, at the same time, seems similar to the one present in a reiterative way all over the elvhen artefacts and in some dwarven rug designs.

I don't know how to interpret this image, mostly like the big black bubble that contains these klids seems to protect or shield them from the dangers outside. The kids that "behave badly" are dropped outside of it and are consumed by the dragon fire/jaws of the dangers outside. So in a very stretched way, we can interpret this image that the bubble filled with Suns protects people, or at least, it's the right path to follow not to be eaten by those monsters outside.

Conclusions

To put an end to this post, I would like to bring a short conclusion that we may have reached together along it. The Sun in Thedas is an ancient symbol that mostly every culture took to exploit and use in their own representation of gods/power.

This fact alone is not strange, since in anthropology we can see that severals cultures on Earth have developed religious rites or created Gods out of the Sun itself. The Sun is a symbol related to warmth, light, food, life, and security, so it seems reasonable for DA Lore to take it as the main symbol of Thedas civilisations.

The Sun in current Thedas is immediately associated with the Chantry and Andraste: it is a symbol of hope, of dawn, that provide the idea of new beginnings; it’s also the idea of the Maker itself and the Faith people have in him. It's also the fire that purifies in order to grant ascension [Andraste's case].

When it comes to Elvhenan, the Sun is immediately related to Elgar’nan, who was considered, according to the underaliable Dalish legends, the son of the Sun itself, who in order to save the Land shoved the sun into the ground, potentially causing a great damage to Dwarves and Titans.

There is also a symbol of a half-sun in an Eluvian, a statue, and in a hat worn by an elf, that may suggest that an original god, represented by the sun [potentially an ancient Dragon] was worshipped by the Evanuris. Lately, that symbol may have been co-opted by one of the Evanuris when they took divinity and the identity of the ancient gods they worshiped.

Elvhenan also seem to take the symbol of the asterisk as an oversimplification of the Sun, which across the murals, is also related to the heart of Titans, to power, and to the Golden Ring, which is also associated with control. So, for Elvhenan, we may suggest that the Sun represents immense power, if not, Divinity itself, that may end up being related to the core of Titans. The asterisk is also associated to the orb, a big power object.

Since Elvhenan were the first civilisation we know that started in Thedas [besides the Titans and their children], their symbols of power [asterisk, orb, golden ring] may have evolved along time to reach human groups which developed, later, all the sun symbols that ended up in the Chantry’s.

Thanks to Tevinter, we also can suspect that the Sun may have been a representation of an Old God, since they have a lot of sun-related images in their decoration and objects that belong to ancient times in which they were not Andrastian yet [in fact, so ancient times that Andraste herself was not born yet]. This may mean that the Sun symbol cloud have been taken from the Elvhenan or from the Ancient Dragons. Through Tevinter style, we also realise that the Elvhenan Golden Ring may have been used to create Breaches, which again shows and seems consistent with the idea of relating it to power and control. The symbol of Sun in Tevinter culture may be related originally with Elvhenan or with Ancient Dragons that Tevinter used to worship.

Dwarves have little representation of the sun for obvious reasons, but due to the unreliable legend of Elgar’nan and the war with the Titans, we may establish a relationship in which the dwarves endured the Sun [or the Elvhenan power] at some point in their story.

Thanks to the Grey Warden we can relate a sun with the idea of ancient Blood magic or ancient Dragon blood knowledge, since the Joining is represented by a chalice with a Sun on it.

The Avvar also have a low-key representation of the Sun in their Lady of the Sky, which may be just consequence of their deep relationship with the Elvhenan culture.

Par Vollen may have more answers about the Sun and ancient times, but the lore of DA world is very scarce on this region of the map of Thedas, so we can only speculate.

[hauntedpearl]

Prompt Day 3: Stars (@starcrosseddeancas )

(TW: grief, but mostly depressive vibes.)

There are plastic stars on the ceiling. The kind that glow in the dark.

That's really what does it, in the end.

Dean remembers plastic stars on the ceiling of his own room, when he had one, in a house that was nothing like this, and everything like this. He remembers counting them, like sheep, like real stars, when sleep would be far away because of the buzzing in his limbs. When Sammy cried too hard, too loud, and he'd wake up, groaning when told to go back to bed, buddy. When the world seemed softer, somehow. Easier.

The nursery is unfinished.

There's a half-painted mural on a wall, a dresser piled with boxes of diapers. A half-assembled crib. And the stars. On the ceiling.

Dean pictures Cas there, on a step-stool, maybe, building constellations on the ceiling of a place he'd meant to call home.

Cas isn't here, now. Cas will never be here.

And Dean can't fucking take it.

He sinks to the floor, back to the wall streaked with paint, and stares up at the stars.

[free-mari]

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. constellations of stars, murals on city walls, i don't see nobody but you..