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serenescribe · 6 months

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the once (and many) prince(s) Twisted Wonderland | 3.3k Summary: Silver is, has always been, and will always be, the crown prince of his kingdom. AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54424864 Collaboration with @ohsleepie | Potential spoilers for elements of Chapter 7

Hi everyone! @ohsleepie and I are back at it again with another collaboration based on his wonderful "The Prince and his Physician" AU! This fic is meant to act as a companion story of sorts to the Malleus-focused "the prince's physician," this time focusing on Silver within the AU! Once again, this fic features incredibly beautiful and amazing art drawn by Sleepie; please check him out and follow him, if you haven't already!

I hope you all enjoy!

The worst part of reincarnation, Silver thinks, is the constant cycle of relearning everything all over again.

Okay, perhaps it would be a bit of a stretch to call it the worst part. There are many negatives, many downsides, far too many to count, to being stuck in a loop of constantly dying and reincarnating. But this particular aspect is, in Silver’s honest opinion, one of the worst out of them all.

There is a bookshelf carved from expensive ebony that sits in his chambers, nestled against one side of the wall. There are several bookshelves in his room, but this is the only one that Silver ever uses, filled from top to bottom with centuries worth of journals — leather-bound books gilded with gold and silver, every detail immaculately painted and carved, the cover opening to expensive parchment made from calves. He tends to absentmindedly run a hand along the spines, eyes glazing over the muted leather colours, before plucking out a book, and reading it through.

Silver only lives a good seventeen years at best, always dying before crossing the pinnacle into adulthood. How much of those seventeen years consist of just… reading? There are, of course, his early years, where he is much too infantile to read and write. But he barely has a few years of reading simple children’s stories before the latest journal is pressed into his hands, and he is briefly explained about the details of his curse.

He pores over the words of those who came before him — the Silvers who came before him, his previous iterations, all dying to form the next one. Their handwriting ghost his own, not just similar but straight up identical, and if he stresses his brain hard enough, he can almost conjure up wispy, fading memories of putting a quill to paper, ink curling across the page in the same, sweeping cursive.

And yet, it is a necessity to read all of it, all over again. Because Silver remembers — but not enough.

His memories are shattered, like an ancient mirror that has been cracked right through the middle, fractured into thousands of tiny, individual pieces. It is akin to a kaleidoscope of lifetimes; when he gazes into this metaphorical mirror, a thousand Silvers stare back, each one reflecting his exact appearance, yet distinct and different in their own ways. And yet each piece is but a shard; Silver remembers only the smallest bits of each past life, the pieces coming together to form a jumbled jigsaw of sharp-edged recollections.

He has lived far too many lifetimes as Silver — the crown prince of his kingdom, the only living heir of their royal family. He has lived far too many lifetimes as a Silver — distinctly different with each rebirth, living a short number of years until the day he inevitably dies.

Silver is immortal, and yet he is not. He lives on as the royal, the prince, a beacon of hope—

But Silver the person changes, with each new looping cycle.

(And so he reads through their journals, no matter how much it exhausts him.)

Many a time, his gaze wanders to his bedroom window.

As the sole heir to the royal family, Silver resides in the largest chambers of the castle, a sprawling set of multiple rooms, from a drawing room to receive guests, to his private bedroom where he slumbers at night. What this also means is that he is privy to the best views of everything within his kingdom, from the area stretching across the castle grounds, to the rest of the kingdom beyond tall and guarded stone walls.

There are many things for him to peer at, but today, he is gazing at the soldiers’ barracks again. They have their own section of the castle, tucked out of the way, but Silver can view them from the sanctity of his study, a room where he pens his thoughts in his journal and reads through old ones.

The emotion that dwells within him is nigh imperceptible, difficult to describe. It feels as though someone has tied a rope around his ribcage, double-knotting it and pulling it tight before tugging at it, and pulling him forward. There are twinges and pangs that cross his heart, a hollow cavern yawning as his soul collapses into itself.

He feels this as he stares out the window at the soldiers training in their courtyard. His eyes fixate on the swords in their hands, at the way they slash and thwack their weapons against straw-stuffed training dummies. Occasionally, he will spot the soldiers gathering together, jumping and yelling as two of them spar with wooden swords, all of them oblivious to his peeping.

He wants this. He longs for this. He—

“Your majesty?”

Silver blinks. It takes him a split second, pulling himself out of his thoughts, shoving away the deep desires that permeate his heart, but he quickly turns around, eyes fixating on the familiar figure in the doorway.

“Malleus,” Silver greets, shoulders relaxing as a smile slips onto his face. Of course it is Malleus; there are few who have his explicit permission to enter without needing to knock, and his physician is one of them. He waves his hand, ushering him in. “How long have you been standing there? Come on in, take a seat wherever you’d like. And what have I said about the formalities?”

Malleus is here for another check-up, and Silver gladly acquiesces. He can think of no other person he trusts more with his very life and soul than Malleus himself. He allows the man to lead him through familiar routines, magic permeating his body as he searches for something Silver cannot see, before shifting to more physical methods of testing Silver’s health.

Still, as Malleus works in a near-silence, preferring to focus and get his duties done before they can relax and spend some time together, Silver cannot help his thoughts from wandering off again. His desires are not new; he has seen them expressed across multiple journals, scrawled in identical, curling scripts across expensive parchment. The desire to pick up a weapon, to learn to fight and defend, to learn how to wield a blade like a true prince — that is what he so desires.

But he is frail, and the council insists that he stays in, that he can learn to fight once they break the curse. So never, Silver thinks bitterly, eyelids slipping shut as he feels cold claws brush against his forehead. Never in this lifetime, and not while I’m alive.

Malleus is many things.

To the populace, he has many names, many signifiers, viewed in many different ways. He is a blessing and a curse, for his magic is by far the only thing that can cure their prince, but all of it comes at the cost of his very existence itself: A fae; a deplorable, wicked creature; a monster that is the very scum of the earth itself. The history of their kingdom is written in the blood of their ancestors, shed through grievous wounds inflicted by the sharp claws and gleaming maws of the fae that slaughtered them all.

To the nobles, the members of the council who govern over the kingdom in Silver’s stead, making decisions on his behest, Malleus is something they tolerate. They do not speak of what will happen after the curse is broken and Silver is cured, but Silver knows, from their whispers and sly glances, from the words penned by the others who came before him, that they wish for nothing more than to rid the world of the last of the wicked — not, and never, fair — fae.

Humans gaze upon Malleus with distrust, wariness, abject hatred.

But for Silver, Malleus is one simple thing alone.

To him, Malleus is his friend.

There are two distinct points in the history of Silver’s incarnations: Before Malleus, and After Malleus.

The difference is like night and day. The journals of before are dismal and depressing, imbued with a bone-deep loneliness that carried all the way through into the parchment pages, stained in the very ink used to scrawl thoughts across the pages. The Silvers of that time tried — truly, they did — to cling to hope, to believe in what their people believed: that one day, their prince would be freed from the shackles of his horrific curse.

But with the passing decades, the many years, the many Silvers that lived and died, they all seemed to suffer from the same truth: there was no cure in sight.

And then there was Malleus.

The guards found a young fae child today, lurking in the borders between what remains of the valley and the kingdom, his own handwriting reads, the parchment yellowed with age, the ink long-since dried. This, Silver knows, is the first point at which Malleus is mentioned, though not yet by name, tucked away in a notebook he recognises by the distinct fern-green colour of its cover. Even now, as I write this, I still cannot believe the abysmal state he was in upon meeting him. No child, whether human or otherwise, should have that many injuries on their body, and though I have had a stern word with those who found him, I fear for his safety.

He shall remain with me for the time being.

Though Silver does not have favourite journals — for such a concept is lost on him when all the journals are such a drag to read, recounting the day-to-day experiences of his past selves, a depressing fog seeming to permeate every page of words — this one is perhaps the closest one to such a concept. Because this journal is different — he clings to every word, phantom feelings of a fierce protectiveness flaring within him, as though this particular incarnation has stirred somewhere deep within him and seized his soul.

It is so painfully obvious how much his past self had cared for Malleus — taking care of him, granting him such patience and endless kindness, spending time with him teaching him the human tongue, of how to read and write. There is a page filled with endless delight upon learning the fae’s name, ink smudged together where the page reads Malleus. Their activities did not end at the crude essentials; there are sweeping recounts of games played together, of crayon drawings and delicious platters of sweet treats — and Silver aches when he reads every word of it, possessed by a longing to return to those simpler times, when Malleus was not his physician, and was merely his friend.

And this care is made so apparent by the last few pages, the cursive made shaky by the cold, approaching winds of Death. To the next Silver, it reads, take care of Malleus. If there is any hope of breaking this curse that ails me, it lies within the powers of the fair folk. And yet, the rest of the page is filled with sentiments, rather than explaining how Malleus is the key to breaking the curse:

I wish this could last forever, these sweet days of playing together. For much of my life, I have been haunted by a bleak loneliness, isolated by my circumstances, and haunted by the weight of all our pasts. I have never had any companions my age, and I know from my readings that all of my predecessors shared the same lonely fate. To indulge in such fleeting luxuries, to have someone to speak to as though we were on the same level, intimately so— it is a happiness unlike anything I have ever felt before.

Blotchy circles stain the pages, the ink smeared in places.

Things may be different from now on. I understand that the council wishes for him to begin his work when the next cycle begins. And it is with that knowledge that I must remind the next Silver: Malleus may be our physician, and he may be tasked with breaking our curse—

But before that, before any of that, he is our friend.

Never forget that, for as long as we may live.

“Thank you for joining me today.”

Wispy trails of steam rise from two cups of tea, sitting in elegant saucers. Before Silver, and in the middle of the round tea table, is a small spread of sweet delicacies: scones accompanied by small glass jars of jam; finger sandwiches, some filled with goat’s cheese and roasted pepper, others filled with cucumber and salmon; and a small, round cake, tiny enough that it’s perfect for just the two of them.

“Of course,” Malleus replies, his voice smooth as usual. He raises his head slightly, slitted-eyes roaming over the tea-time spread before them, before he dips his head. “I thank you for the invitation, your majesty.”

“We have been over this many times, Malleus,” Silver says, unable to hide the exhaustion that spills into his voice. “You need not refer to me by such formalities.”

He knows why Malleus does so, of course. The answer is written across several different journals — It is difficult for him to reacquaint himself with us in each new cycle, and I truly cannot blame him. How alienating must it be, to witness someone you grow close to, time and time again, look upon you with no familiarity in his eyes? There is another reason too, though one of mere speculation, for Malleus has never confessed the truth by his own tongue — Earlier today, I witnessed a council member chide Malleus for regarding me with such familiarity during our meeting. I do wonder if this may be another factor into those needless formalities.

Thankfully, Malleus always obliges whenever Silver asks this of him — though whether it is because Silver is his prince, or because Silver is his friend, he never knows. “Is there any occasion for this meeting, Prince Silver?” Malleus asks, as Silver beckons for him to help himself, unwilling to dig in first when the fae’s eyes are flickering over the food, glinting with hunger. I wonder if he has forgotten to eat again, Silver thinks. Malleus carries over a scone and a sandwich with his utensils, leaving the cake intact. “Not that I mind it, by any means; it is always a pleasure to spend time with you.”

“There is no special occasion,” Silver answers, finally reaching for the spread as Malleus cuts into his meal. “I… only wished to spend time with my friend.”

Their relationship is a strange, tenuous thing. There is undoubtedly a bond there, from the way that Silver always feels so safe and secure in Malleus’ presence, and the gentle way that Malleus treats him, always appearing whenever Silver calls for him. There are even some rare occasions where the facade of dutiful physician slips, a careful veneer crafted for the sake of survival in the court, and Silver relishes those times, watching as Malleus’ expression sours, the stinging barbs that spit from his mouth more endearing than his usual regal elegance.

But all the same, compared to the earlier journals after Malleus’ appearance, filled with much more warmth and life — even as he learnt his role, Malleus would still happily chat with those Silvers, accept his offers to play games, spend the night with him on many occasions — there is a gap between them now. Driven by age, driven by time, and driven by the eternal, scathing judgement of the many humans of this kingdom, who cycle in and out of life and death, but are all fuelled by the same spiteful hatred and prejudice, taking it out on the only fae they know.

Still, Silver tries his best. He knows Malleus does too.

He sees it in the way the fae’s shoulders relax, expression smoothing out at the edges. “In that case,” Malleus says, after a moment’s pause, “let us indulge. How have you been lately… Silver?”

It is a good day for the two of them, Silver reflects. They drink their cups of tea and drain the pot of its excess drink, and the tray of delicacies are filled with nothing but crumbs by the time they’re done.

Even the cake, a dessert regarded with conflicting feelings by Malleus, is finished by the end of it. For once, Malleus eats his slices with a small smile, both their forks scraping the bottom of the plate as they help themselves to their fill.

Death no longer scares him, unlike everyone else. Death, in its own way, is a comfort, an inevitability: Silver knows he will reach his demise at the same time, at the same age. Very few people can ever be privy to such knowledge, going through their lives not knowing if they will pass on at age fifteen or fifty.

In that vein, what does it matter if Silver chooses to speed up the process?

He is not allowed proper access to weaponry. The council states that it is because there is no need for him to pick up a blade when he has guardsmen patrolling the halls around his room at all times, but Silver knows better. This is not the first time he has longed to die earlier than he usually does; he can count the other occasions on two of his hands, based on cryptic journal endings dated months earlier than they usually do.

To an extent, a part of him wonders what the point of it is. He will die, inevitably; why inflict such pain and suffering if he knows he’s going to come back? What is the point of it all?

The point, Silver tells himself, is that there isn’t one. He’ll always come back. He’ll always return — and so why should he languish and rot in his bed as his body slowly gives out on him? Why waste those months feeling his muscles weaken and his grasp on reality slip?

Why not do everyone the honour of ending it early, ending it now?

(The silver blade of the dagger, requested from some rookie soldier who knows no better than to deny this particular request from the prince, is cold against the flesh covering his heart.)

Silver is so, so tired. His life is stagnant, unchanging; he lives and he dies the same person, the same name, the same cursed prince of the same bloody kingdom, every childhood filled with days of reading the same handwritten journals signed with the same, stupid name.

When will he be allowed to rest? The weight of a legacy, the weight of his people’s hopes and dreams, drag him down, like impossibly heavy weights that are shackled to his limbs, pulling and pulling until he’s flat against the ground. He never asked for this — and god, it’s so selfish to even think of that, but it’s true.

Nobody ever thinks about him, Silver the person. They are only ever concerned with Silver the prince, Silver their saviour.

Except—

A memory flashes to mind, unbidden — of twisting, dark horns and raven-spun hair, and slitted green eyes that crinkle at the corners as he smiles at him.

(His hands tremble.)

Malleus.

The name fills him with an ache. If there is anything Silver can take comfort in as he straddles the line between life and death, it is simply that Malleus will always be there. Malleus is a constant throughline throughout Silver’s life, and while Silver may ebb and flow, weaving in and out of the many, many years of a fae’s long lifespan, Malleus will always be there.

And though the thought of that face, rendered a child once more in its shock and sadness, causes his chest to knot itself with hesitance and reluctance, Silver steadies himself.

The humans may come and go, live and die, but Malleus will always remain.

(And the blade plunges down.)

#my writing tag #writing collaborations #twst #twisted wonderland #twst fanfiction #twst writing #malleus draconia #twst silver #the prince and his physician au #once again it was an absolute delight to be able to collab w sleepie on this!#i really do love this au so i'm so happy to get to write something for it #my crossposts

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shinjisdone · 7 months

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𝑉𝜄𝜋𝑙𝛼𝜋𝜕 𝑆𝛼𝑔𝛼

(𝘼𝙣𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮)

To Soften A Warrior's Heart - War Arc

[Scenarios of crawling your way into Thorfinn's heart in the form of headcanons. Slow burn. Each part follows an chronological order and will loosely follow the plot of season 1]

Sᴇᴀsᴏɴ ₁ ﹙Wᴀʀ Aʀᴄ﹚﹕

Part 1 - (Meeting Thorfinn at 14y/o)

Part 2 - (Meeting & bonding with Thorfinn at 17y/o)

Part 3 - (Blooming friendship with Thorfinn)

Part 4: - (Thorfinn unwittingly opening his heart)

Part 5.1: - (Headcannons of sweet things Thorfinn would do for you)

Part 5.2: -(Headcannons of other sweet things Thorfinn would do for you)

Part 6: - (Meeting Canute and becoming his guard - Thorfinn accepts your relationship and bond)

Part 7: -(Canute grieving over Ragnar and Thorkell catching up to you; Thorfinn leaves you behind for revenge)

Part 8: -(Thorfinn wins against Thorkell; Questioning your bond with Thorfinn)

Part 9: -(Meeting Leif and Thorfinn dueling Askeladd)

Part 10, Finale: -(Thorfinn and you bound by heart; Promises toVinland broken and abandoned)

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arandomferretsthoughts · 3 months

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This popped into my brain and wouldnt leave so I wanted to share it with yall

—

A young boy and his parents are attacked on the street, only the boy makes it out.

It's a rare occurrence, an event like this, the police find the man and arrest him and everyone else is safe.

Bruce Wayne goes home to a mansion that feels larger and lonelier than ever, with only his butler to take care of him.

And yet the young boy finds himself too afraid to leave for more than necessities.

The young boy grows into a young man, he inherits his parents business and starts to leave his house a little more, unwilling to lose this connection to his lost parents but still he finds himself afraid, afraid to be around people, to be seen.

Until one day at a gala he must attend for the sake of the shareholders, he sees a man, a reporter, who holds himself in an odd way, clearly a tall and strong man who could be intimidating if he tried but the man held himself as if to appear smaller and unassuming, Bruce's brain flitters across the idea that the man is hiding something, or more hiding himself.

His brain that has soaked up comics and movies for years so as to not grow bored in his home.

And when he learns of all the good this reporter has been trying to do, he thinks the man would make a good superhero.

When he goes home the thought wont leave him alone, he thinks of a world with a hero, a world that needs a hero, one where his parents murder would have just been one of many, but this hero wouldn't have been there to help, he was too bright, a hero for the daytime, not for the shadows of night.

He thinks maybe he could have been a hero in this world, one that saves other kids from suffering a fate like his own.

One who is afraid and fights anyway.

The next time he leaves his home there's an event at a museum, with some special objects that are in town for a few days. There he sees a woman who knows so much about ancient relics and is so beautiful that he doesn't believe she could be just a normal human.

He thinks she would share her knowledge and kindness with the world given the chance.

While he remains mostly alone, other than his Parental figure/Butler, he also keeps in contact with two friends from when he was in school.

One is now a psychiatrist, with an interest in learning about fear and how it can change people, and the other a psychologist, both working at the city's asylum.

Harleen is who Bruce considers his best friend, a goofy but kind girl who cares alot about others, she tells him about a patient, without going into much detail, who she claims would be cute if he wasn't so insane. Smiling and laughing while he talks about harming others.

She got a boyfriend somewhere along the way, a man Bruce is sure abuses her but she can't seem to leave.

The three get in a fight one day, and lose contact, and Bruce supposes you can't have heroes without villains, though he can't bring himself to think of Harley as a villain by her own choice.

On the news Bruce learns of a man working to better science as they know it, a man who always seems to be a few minutes too late, he follows the story until the day something goes wrong and the man is there on time to shield workers from flying chemicals, killing him but saving others, Bruce thinks the man a hero in death, and could have been one in life, one who always made it to where he was needed just on time.

As time went on Bruce tried to get out more in normal ways, one night he went to the circus, he enjoyed it, reminding him of the day when he was little and his parents brought him to one just like it.

It was a few days later that he learned at the next show there was an accident, and a little boy lost his parents, he remembered being small and feeling alone when he had lost his, thankful for the man who cared for him he wished he could do the same for this little boy, but knew he didn't have the skills needed.

He could, however, make sure the boy got somewhere safe, and other kids like him too.

So he held a fundraiser and donated a lot of money into the foster system, doing what he could to make it safe.

And he thought of a world where he could have taken the little circus boy into his home, making it brighter and less lonely.

As he ventured out more and more Bruce travelled through different parts of the city, he saw a group of little children cowering behind one bigger who had just chased off a grown man, Bruce smiled as the kids cheered for the little hero.

It was the news that later told him the boy was dead, a homeless kid who stopped being seen, the little hero was gone.

Bruce held another fundraiser, this one for the homeless shelters and kitchens.

It was the news that told him the boy was not dead, found by the police, with other stolen children.

Children that returned to a better place.

The day he lost his last parent is the day where he began to feel truly alone, the only person there for him gone, but Alfred would live forever in his memory's as the man who loved and cared for him.

He reached out to Harly again not wanting to be all alone, and they made up, he learned she had gotten free of her abusive boyfriend and had fallen for a woman who's love of nature was refreshing and new.

He knew little about his neighbours, but he tried to get to know them better, he struggled but eventually learned that the woman that lived there was very sick and that the man was not home much, when he learned of the child who spent so much of his time alone, he thought the kid was brave and told him if he ever needed anything to just ask.

The kid needed someone the day when his mother didn't wake up and his father wasn't home. Bruce did what he could, he was no father but he cared for the kid the best he could until his was able to return.

Bruce knew it was expected of him to have a family, someone to give his things and his business when he passed. He tried dating, but nothing ever seemed to work out.

However one day he learned of a child, a son, one the mother hadn't told him about, he tried to gain any sort of parental rights but couldn't get any custody, only visitation, he met the boy, a quiet but fiercely determined child, And he loved his son even without seeing him much.

When the quiet, hermit, billionaire Bruce Wayne, best known for appearing, donating large amounts of money to random causes and then disappearing again, passed away his belongings and company were to be split between two people, Timothy Drake, and Damian al Ghul, when the two met up to split his things, they found writings the man had never told anyone of.

Writings of a world where regular people became heroes, where aliens walked amongst humans, and where magic made lives exciting.

They agreed to publish the story's for the world to see.

To most people, the writings were just an entertaining fiction story that a billionaire wrote with his unlimited free time.

But to the retired reporter who knew his height frightened others, who now rested and found the stories learned that someone had seen how he stood, and what he had done and thought of him as a hero,

To the artefact collector and preserver who learned this man believed she was so knowledgeable about what she had strived to learn everything about, as well as beautiful, that he thought her to be blessed by the gods,

To the old psychologist who mourns her friend, a man who thought that no matter what she went through she'd always make the right choice in the end,

To the family of a man who lost his life saving others, who this guy they had never met thought so highly of,

To the man that lost his only family to an accident at their circus, he was a man who wanted him get a good home, where'd he'd get anything he ever wanted,

To a man that went through so much, believed dead for so long to learn this man who he had only seen once, saw him not as a poor homeless kid but as a fighter and protector,

To the boy that new the man for a short time, as a temporary guardian and protector, who made him feel safe and not alone when he needed it most,

And To the boy who wished he could have known his father, but was kept away by his mother,

The storys showed to them all that this man, who some thought of as cold and egotistical, as he locked himself away and refused to be around others, was actually an anxious, lonely man, who saw what others didn't and cared about everyone in his own odd way.

—

I just thought it was a cool idea I wanted to share with yall, so I hope you guys like it

This is my first post on here, so please be nice,

Also, ignore any spelling or grammar mistakes Dyslexia goes brrr

If you want to know what I think he based the other heroes and character off of, just ask, and I'll figure it out!

Thanks for reading, and have a good day!

Edit:

Thanks for all the nice comments and reblogs :)

I genuinely didn't realize how sad this was, lol. Sorry, not sorry, guys

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infernothechaosgod · 8 months

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How it feels making art of characters that are spoilers so I can't post em :

#The thorn prince funfact tag #mickey mouse #oswald the lucky rabbit #Writing #PAINNMN

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namelessghoulsfacelessblogs · 6 months

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Sweet Little Murmurs

Aether x GN! Reader

Telepathic Aether has some fun messing with one of the siblings of sin..

Hypno kink, masturbation, voyeurism at the end... Probably gonna lead into another fic~

Note: I'll be using neutral words for body parts (chest, sex, etc.) because I'd rather it be gender neutral

You'd been pent up for a while- well, it wasn't like you had been trying. You just hadn't been able to.. Finish, lately.

You were relaxing with Aether for a bit, reading a book, when one of the scenes started to turn a bit more heated and erotic. Your body started to heat up, and you shivered- then felt Aether's hand trail up your side.

"Hey.. You like that kind of thing?" He wasn't looking at the book- but directly at you, and you could feel a small tug at your temples.. Telepathy.

"Aether.. You know the rules.." You looked at him, frowning.

"I know, I know.. But your energy shifted and I wanted to make sure it wasn't anything bad." He smiled and tilted his head. "Why didn't you say something? I'm glad to help you out, you know."

You blushed and looked away again, glancing at your book. "I mean.. It's a little awkward.. Isn't it?" You closed it, setting it on your lap. "I mean.. I'm not as big as you are, and you're.. Well.. Ghouls are a little different.." Your cheeks were warm, and you knew they had to be going red.

"Sweetheart.. We both know you like my cock. And we both know you asked me to put those little words in your head a while ago so I could help if you ever got like this. We even gave you a safe-word protocol, remember? You'll remember even when your mind is mushy and empty and all you can focus on is your pleasure." He tilted your chin up so you had to meet his eyes, making you shiver. Heat pooled in your belly as he spoke, and you could feel yourself giving in already- and he hadn't even spoken the words yet.

"Aether.." You whined softly, and he smirked as he placed a hand on your thigh.

"What is it, precious? You want me to say it?" He leaned in, kissing your cheek, then moved to your ear, nipping at your earlobe gently, grazing fangs along the skin, prompting you to whine. His fingers wandered closer to your groin, where your slowly growing need made itself obvious. You panted and nodded your head, only for him to chuckle, low in his throat. "Words, love..."

"Mmh.. Please, Aether..?" They came out shivery, breathy, and he hummed again.

"Alright, alright.. Playtime, sweetness." Within an instant, your mind went fuzzy, and your entire body tingled. You felt like you'd been surrounded with cotton, and could only feel his touch. His one hand gently stroked your thigh, the other cupping a cheek as you murmured something that you barely even felt was words. "That's it.. Let me take care of you.."

You felt him pick you up, but it was all like a dream- and it was amazing. You clung to him, and he kissed your cheek as he carried you to his room. He gently placed you down, and began to remove your clothes, hands sliding up your body as he removed the robes that hid your skin from him. You reached up and cupped his face, and he smiled, taking your hands. "You like how my hands feel on you, baby?"

You nodded, but he didn't even need you to tell him. The evidence was clear in your undergarments, already bearing evidence of your arousal. He freed you of them, then leaned in, kissing your lips, to which you further submitted. It felt so good- and then, his hand was between your legs, fingers working on your sex to tease you. He wouldn't properly touch you like this- but that was alright. It was part of how you two went about it- you would be able to stop him easier if he wasn't inside, and he would be able to keep you under longer. An agreement that the teasing was enough to get both of you excited- and in this state, it was perfect. This particular drop always felt good.

"Ohh.. You love how I make you all mindless, don't you? No worries, no problems... And most importantly, assurance you get to cum this time." Those words made you whimper and whine again, and he gently kissed your jawline, placing his hand on your belly as he trailed them along your jaw and to your neck, where he gently suckled. You were throbbing, panting, and you knew he could tell. How? His own cock was beginning to perk up against your thigh, and he was gently purring.

He could feel your arousal in his own mind, and that little tugging at your temples said he was trying to see how to please you. Whatever you wanted, he would do, and that only made you hornier. You whined, legs trembling, and he increased the pace at which he teased you as he continued to kiss and mouth at your neck. He trailed down to your chest, gently biting to leave marks on you. He moaned a bit- and that pushed you further into the fuzzy feelings. You felt his lips on your skin as he kept kissing down your chest and to your navel, and then below.. The moment he reached your waistline, you felt him tug at your mind again-

"Cum for me.. I know you want to.."

As soon as you were given permission, all your pent up frustration and desperation reached a peak, and you finally came. Pleasure spread through your entire body, tingling sensations taking over your skin. You made little noises as your vision went white with orgasmic pleasure and bliss. Your breaths left you in panting gasps, and Aether gently purred as he moved to your ear. "Good job, baby.. That felt good, didn't it..?" You nodded and made a noise, and he cupped your cheek. "Good.. Now, I want you to get some sleep for me.."

As you began to drift off, the pleasured shockwaves dying down, Aether hummed, tucking you into his sheets. As soon as he knew you were asleep, he chuckled, then spoke. "You know, Papa.. I can feel you too.."

A very flushed- and already hard Copia, tensed in the doorway, blushing, heavily embarrassed. "I-"

"Don't worry, I have plenty enough for you too."

#prince writes tag #the band ghost #ghost band #ghostband #ghost fandom #nameless ghouls #band ghost #ghost the band #aether ghoul #aether ghost #aether x reader #ghost band smut

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kradogsrats · 2 months

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Stars & Staffs: What the Heck, Guys

So. The staffs. The staffs.

Prior to this, we held the belief that the Staff of Ziard was made specifically for dark magic. I made a meme about it once (why yes, I do think I'm funny):

Now... that could still be the case. The Aaravos/Sauron parallels have always been off the charts, so "the dark lord forged in secret a master ring, and into this ring he poured his cruelty, his malice and his will to dominate all life" is still a definite possibility.

Aaravos also has a strong thread in his plans to bring about the stars' downfall through a vector they had overlooked—humans—and with warped mirrors of their creations—himself, characterized as "their dark brother," and possibly dark magic, itself.

—Ripples

—Patience

So yeah, still strong possibility that the Staff of Ziard is Aaravos's creation for humans, a mockery of their works delivered with irony.

However, the other possibility—that the Staff of Ziard is one of a set conceived for some magical purpose—is super interesting, because it's actually not strictly a dark magic staff in the way that Ibis's staff is a Sky magic staff or the Sunforge staff is a Sun magic staff.

Staffs for primal magic are pretty explicitly sources of power and focus for the mage. The Sunforge staff contains a small Sun primal stone, Ibis's staff appears to similarly contain a Sky primal stone—it's not clear whether these primal stones are powerful enough to be used on their own by a non-mage, but the corrupted Sunforge staff is at least powerful enough for Claudia to use it easily and immediately.

We also have Karim's staff, which doesn't have a visible stone and appears to be somewhat less powerful, acting more as a channel to focus his magic than a source for it. While we see a lot of rune spells cast using staffs, we also see several spells cast with staffs apparently instead of runes.

Most staffs are probably a lot more similar to that, because like... the Sunforge staff is obviously incredibly powerful, being linked directly to the Sun nexus and wielded by former Sunfire monarchs. Ibis's staff also tracks as a powerful artifact—I would not be surprised if Ibis was an archmage of Sky, or equivalent to one in power. Ibis even uses his staff for some rather complex magic—picking up objects, aiming, and launching them at Claudia—without a rune or a spoken draconic incantation.

The Staff of Ziard, on the other hand... it's not actually a dark magic staff in the same way. Instead of itself being a source of magic or using the mage's own connection to a primal source the way primal staffs do, the Staff of Ziard is all about siphoning away the essence of living creatures, whether that's primal magic or souls. Being able to then empower or release that essence seems to potentially be a matter of knowledge—Viren doesn't do it until Aaravos has basically taken over his subconscious, and the only other person we see do it is Ziard himself, draining the sunbirds directly into a corrupted fire capable of burning an Archdragon of the Sun.

Conceptually, siphoning essence to cast spells is very in tune with dark magic... but not exclusive to it. "Magic that takes," as Aditi describes it, apparently exists in several forms.

Additionally, like I said, Viren literally never uses the staff for any magic that isn't unique to it until mid-late s3.

All the dark magic spells he does before then, except for the ones that are explicitly done with the staff alone, he does without it.

(Yes, there's whatever he does to hold Thunder immobile, but that has always been a weird outlier we don't fully understand. We don't know whether it's a spell from the staff—unlikely, given that it doesn't involve or affect the central stone—or a reagent-powered dark magic spell he cast while the camera was focused on Thunder and Harrow.)

So what is the deal with these?

We know that the Celestial elves are guardians of artifacts related to Star magic, Startouch elves, and presumably the Stars/First Elves in general. So the staffs could just be being stored. They do have nice little display niches. What's kind of weird is that first of all, they're apparently powered up in some way, given the glow of their stones. Secondly, they're in full "open" configuration—the way Claudia uses the Staff of Ziard when opening the chrysalis.

Like the soul-trapping spell that is one of the staff's specialties, the chrysalis spell uses a dark magic incantation (rather than the Draconic-based deep magic or corrupted Sun magic spells). It's described as channeling the power of the "sun's first light," and what it does is, I'm fairly convinced, imbue the being inside the chrysalis with essence—on some level giving it consciousness or a soul.

So what if all the staffs work that way, but for different facets of energy or magic or whatever? Why create something like that, whether for the sorts of energy corresponding with primal sources, or for souls and consciousness? Why would Startouch elves need staffs, if they're so absurdly powerful?

Theory one: let's get the least likely one out of the way first. As a whole, the staffs are components of a machine-like spell or group ritual that maintains the flow of primal and other magic through the world. Yes, this is about my theory that the Starscraper is a kind of world-pillar or bridge that funnels magic to Xadia from elsewhere, and yes, I am a big fan of Pillars of Eternity. There's not really a lot of evidence for this, aside from the different stone colors and the arrangement and kind of strange location of the stored staffs. Like, what is up with this?

Theory two: we know the First Elves in some way divided into at least the five other kinds of primal elves. Could the staffs have been somehow related to that, intentionally consolidating and focusing the First Elves' magical nature into separate forms? Again, there's not really any evidence for this beyond that staffs are meant to be carried and used by people, and the theory that the First Elves may have consciously taken on becoming the different primal elves.

Theory three: this is the forbidden magic that was given to humans, not primal stones. We have two sources for the "Leola gifted primal magic/stones to humans" story, and each of them contributes different things—the one that specifies primal stones doesn't mention Leola by name, attributing the gift to unicorns as a whole, while the one that specifies Leola doesn't mention the primal stones, instead specifying that she provided them with the runes and Draconic words for spells. If the staffs are like the Staff of Ziard but for other energies, including primal sources—if they're all "magic that takes," it would make a lot more sense why the stars got so fussed about humans having it. There isn't really any more evidence for this than for my other theories, but shut up I like this one. It would be the chef's kiss Uno-Reverse cap on the entire mangled and obscured story of the history of human magic.

Anyway, my insane TED Talk aside, what in all heck is going on, because every time I think I've gotten this shit kind of figured out, they do this kind of curve ball.

#for someone who doesn't really vibe with magic staffs i sure write a lot of detailed posts about them #the dragon prince #deep magic #dark magic #primal magic #celestial elves #gdi i really do need a tag for meta don't i #did i write this instead of the laurelion amulet meta? ... yes #but only for today okay tomorrow will be amulet time #kradogsmeta

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toadette-gal · 3 months

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#puyo puyo #puyo #otomo #prince salde #salde canarl shellbrick iii #i dont know how to write early english so i used a translator lol #memes #cal's artwork #do not tag as ship

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theerurishipper · 3 months

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I took upon myself the herculean task of compiling all Dick and Diana interactions.

Batman/Superman: World's Finest #16

Nemesis: The Impostors #3

Nightwing (2016) #100

Titans (2016) Special 1

Titans (2016) Annual 1

Justice League (2011) #51

Wonder Woman (1987) #161

Wonder Woman (1987) #166

Batman/Santa Claus: Silent Knight #4

Nightwing (1996) Annual 2

Some honorary mentions:

These two ones where Diana doesn't interact with Dick one-on-one and is only a part of a larger group, but it's still a good way to show that she respects and trusts him as a leader.

The Brave and The Bold (2007) #15

Justice League: Generation Lost #1

This one where Dick isn't here but Diana shows appreciation for his skills and is very quick to accept that Nightwing should be honored by being in the League (also this isn't about him but I love Clark's "finally, someone easy." That's a proud uncle y'all).

Justice League of America (2006) #2

This one where Diana isn't here but she lets Dick use her Lasso, I think that counts.

Batman/Superman: World's Finest #17

This one where Diana gifted Dick the fastest horse in the world, apparently.

Justice League (2018) #53

These from the 1966 Batman and 1977 Wonder Woman shows' crossover comic.

Batman '66 Meets Wonder Woman '77 #5

Batman '66 Meets Wonder Woman '77 #6

Batman '66 Meets Wonder Woman '77 #10

And then—

Then...

Yeah. That's about it. It's an unfortunately short list. But what little we do have shows that they have a bond of mutual trust and respect for each other. It's very interesting and I wish they explored it more.

#DC #DC Comics #DCU #Dick Grayson #Diana Prince #Clark Kent #Bruce Wayne #Donna Troy #They appear enough that I felt I should tag them #Nightwing #Robin #Batman #Superman #Wonder Woman #Diana of Themyscira #Tbh I don't know too much about Diana. Especially compared to Dick or Bruce or even Clark #But I have my Personal Opinions™ on Dick and Diana and the symbolism of their potential relationship #As well as all the similarities they share as people and the different ways they can understand each other #But there's enough in canon that can be explored #Like come on #She's known him since he was a baby Robin and she's watched him grow into a capable and inspiring hero #And they both love Donna Troy with their heart and soul and more #It practically writes itself. DC what are you doing #Anyway if I missed any please do add onto this. Maybe some Golden Age stuff? Idk

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sparksandspells · 26 days

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for all our days and all our trials // the damen/laurent wedding fic

When Laurent set out to plan a royal wedding between two 1) men, who are 2) actively ruling kings, of 3) tenuously peaceful lands, with 4) widely-known reasons to have killed, or possibly 5) still kill each other, he expected the process to come with a few difficulties. He did not expect getting his perpetually amorous new husband aroused on their wedding night to be the hardest of them. (Or: ‘Not in front of the court,' said Laurent, as if this were unspeakably foolish, 'in front of the Council.’)

Read on AO3.

it's here!! it's done!! after three years of sporadic work, it's finally out in the world!! 😭😭😭 i may be biased but this is my favorite thing i've ever written and i'm so excited to finally share it with everyone!!

big huge thanks to @ming85, @delilahsdaydream, and @i-am-a-story-goblin for responding to my call for betas two years ago; y'all's suggestions made the fic way better than it would've been otherwise. (a round of applause especially for ming85, who saved an ancient tapestry from the horror of grass stains and generally made the wedding event much more kingly than i, in my infinite unwordliness, had intended to.)

thanks also to @damiaanos for being my wall to bounce things off of more recently as i finally committed to getting this thing done no matter what. legitimately don't know how i would've managed it without your excellent balance of "you can do it" and "it's fine, stop stressing". if any other perfectionists are reading this, find people like that, they're great.

shoutout to @slecnaztemnot for throwing me the idea of putting Loyse on the Council when i had been stuck on the fifth member for a year, and gratitude to @kingsrising for being a visible fandom hub that i could turn to when i needed community and had no idea where to look for it

fandom is the best and i'm really excited to start being a more active part of capri's

as i mentioned, i've been talking about this fic on tumblr for over two years, so i will now proceed to tag every person who interacted with either of those posts, on the off chance that they would appreciate receiving an update on this fic that is now a real thing that they can go read (if they wish to, obvi)

from the kingsrising ask: @ladykyrin, @afantasyghost, @gildedgaze, @westealtoys, @timburtonknewmyoceans

@plushdragon, @blue-eyed-korra, @foreverskies29, @bumblebee-whiskey, @stardust-at-midnightt,

@brinkleyheights, @lavendercoded, @meraki-ii, @nonothatsano, @not-a-coral-snake

and from the call for betas: @caeli-phantomhive, @laurents-laces, @jaks21, @auroralunasoleil, @captaindamianos

@airebellah, @certainbirdkitty

@marrieddorks, @i-want-delfeur, @morgenti, @goose-fish, @farrukh-schumann,

@theoverlyenthusiasticwriter, @p1n4ta, @deleteitold, @lovelovelove, @hennike

@nczakiis, @theoraclephobetor, @angelshineyourlightonme, @naisvalta, @pienenpienileppakerttu,

@aristosakielon, @foreverfraancis, @fangirlfortress, @whynotme12, @naturaldisaster,

@gutstrings, @dreamerthief18, @aladybetween2majors, @k04, @burntpercy

#captive prince #laurent of vere #damianos x laurent #lamen #damianos of akielos #captive prince fic #mine #my writing #ok TAKE TWO let's try this again #apparently tumblr prevents new accounts from appearing in tags or mentioning people #which seems like a reasonable tactic to prevent spam or w/e but i kinda WISH I WOULD HAVE KNOWN THAT before posting this the first time #so apologies if you've been tagged twice i promise i'm not trying to spam you i'm just 97% sure nobody got a notification a week ago #anyway so far the response to this fic has been incredibly lovely <3 #someone said my writing was 'exquisite' so. y'know. *flips hair*

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bigalockwood · 6 months

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Okay, but this crossover will never not be funny.

#when I tell you that my worst trait is that I think I’m funny…#someone take my phone away #I should be writing #but I’m procrastinating and made this instead #someone send help #gåsmamman #young royals #prince wilhelm #linus ek #Ludvig doesn’t deserve his own tag #dude has been passive his entire life #he’ll live passively on tumblr too #no tag from me #talking shit for the hell of it

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therealkaidertrash21 · 4 months

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Ok, this is the essay I've been talking about, defending kaider. Keep in mind that I'm 15 and English is not my first language, so I might've said something wrong. Also, this is veeery formal because that's what I was taught to do.

Like in all fandoms and all canon and non-canon pairings, kaider sometimes receives comments regarding their dynamic saying that it is not a good ship, that it is not well written, or that they do not go well together. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, however, there are several good arguments against this position.

Firstly, the main aspect that is often criticized about kaider is how quickly the characters "fell in love" and it is often referred as "instalove" even though, if it is carefully analyzed, it becomes obvious that this is not true at all.

Kai, Cinder's love interest, develops a romantic interest in her since their first meeting, this is a fact. But it does not mean it was instalove. Because instalove is love at first sight, when a character thinks the other is their soulmate and wants to be with them forever after only taking a glance at them. However, this is not what happens with kaider. Kai is interested in Cinder and asks her out multiple times but he is not in love, it is very obvious he is just a teenager who has a crush on a girl. This is not rare in real life. This is not unrealistic at all.

In addition, it is impossible to say Cinder's feelings are anything similar to instalove. She doesn't instantly develop feelings for the prince. At the beginning of the story, she does think about him and is interested in him, but her feelings are not particularly strong or obvious yet (partly because she is repressing them).

Secondly, another aspect that is often used to say kaider is a bad pairing, from Cinder's side, is that she is a "not like other girls" character, when she technically is not. This is almost a separate subject, but in essence: Cinder does not say she is not like other girls as a way to put herself above them and denigrate them, she does this because she is insecure, as a way to place herself below them.

Finally, often people criticize this pairing because they think Cinder would be unhappy if she married Kai, because she never wanted to be queen. But the reasons why Cinder did not want to be royalty are not simple. There are many reasons: 1. Cinder does not want to fail her people, 2. she thinks she will not be accepted by the citizens, 3. She desires anonymity. None of these reasons are actually about ruling a country, and once she overcomes these things they would not affect her.

Some might also argue that since she was queen, and then abdicated, she doesn't want to rule. But the reason for her abdication is mostly about her political position. She believes a monarchy is bad for Luna, since monarchs can easily manipulate their citizens (which they have done before). That is the true reason for her abdication. And even after her abdication, she still dedicated her life to politics as an ambassador, which she was not obligated to do.

In conclusion, even though kaider might seem badly written sometimes, this is not true. It is deeper than what it seems. The characters are complex, the reasons why they act in certain ways are very complex as well, as they would be in a real world scenario. Everyone has the right to have their own opinion, but it is good to analyze deeper, rather than only retaining a first impression or a superficial analysis.

also, credits to @impossiblesuitcase because I based most of the sixth paragraph on their post about a similar topic.

#by formal i mean i didn't use contractions #and I didn't say “I” or “you” or something like that #or if i thought a word was informal didn't use it #i learned how to write an essay in FCE training btw #also sorry if my arguments were bad #this isn't that serious #the lunar chronicles #tlc #lunar chronicles #thelunarchronicles #marissa meyer #tlc tag #cinder #linh cinder #prince kai #kaider #emperor kaito #emperor kai #prince kaito

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