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mikashisus · 3 days

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EMPIRE OF BLOOD

01. when does a man become a monster

TAGLIST ! @tragedy-of-commons @https-sourlimes @ughscara @yourfavoritefreakyhan @wystiix

NOTES: first chapter yippee!! i actually adore this chapter and it'll be hard for me to have a new fav chapter after this. i think the only chapter that could one-up this one would be the ball chapter, which... will not come until wayyy later. i already wrote half of it. this whole fic has been written out of chronological order LMAOO

WC: 4.3k

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You were eleven years old when you first killed a man.

The searing pain under your skin did nothing to help the immense shock you felt upon watching as the light left the man’s eyes.

With shaky hands that were stained entirely in fresh, warm blood, you released him from your grip and watched as his lifeless body fell to the ground. His head lolled to the side, his neck almost completely detached from the rest of his body.

The ghastly sight made you feel like you were about to vomit. You gagged, a few coughs following after before you wrapped your arms around your middle and hurled up your half eaten breakfast. More coughs followed and you wiped your lips with the hem of your ragged dress.

A sense of panic welled within you as you realized what you had just done. You scrambled away from the dead body of a Mondstadt nobleman. A few helpless screams left your mouth, loud enough to alert a group of knights nearby. Your throat was burning, your screams coming out in hoarse chokes.

Finally ripping your eyes away from the man’s maimed body, you stared down at your shaking hands. Your vision blurred as you tried to steady your breathing. It was to no avail. The air in your lungs felt thin, and your throat felt like it was closing up. Your lungs tightened, and it became increasingly harder to breathe.

At the lack of oxygen, you panicked even more. One of your hands reached up to claw at your throat, leaving trails of crimson stains in its wake.

A soothing voice pierced your ears amidst the loud ringing.

“You are not alone. I am here. Breathe. In… and out…”

You attempted to follow their instructions as best as you could. When your eyes opened, you finally caught sight of your savior— it was a green-clad figure. The voice made it hard to tell their identity, or perhaps they were just androgynous. The image of them was blurred from the tears gathering in your eyes, but you could briefly spot their lips pulling up into a kind smile.

You glanced behind them at the dead body. The air in your lungs felt thin once more. You wanted to leave, to run far away and never have to see such an ungodly sight ever again.

Fate had other plans as a comforting hand rested on your back. The androgynous figure was now gone, replaced with a dashing woman whose features were threatening in appearance only. Her pitch black eyes with crimson X’s in the center showed deep concern, accompanied by a frown.

She gently wiped the tears from your eyes. You blinked rapidly as she did so, the sharpness of her nails just barely stabbing you in the eye. You were able to get a better look at her now that your vision was cleared.

She was a most gorgeous woman, with fair skin and her hair a mix of black and white. She wore blood red lipstick that contrasted her skin tone. She wore a gray suit with black and crimson accents. The cuffs of her sleeves looked similar to swan feathers. A pin in the shape of a butterfly sat on her collarbone, the deep ruby red gems glowing like menacing eyes under the light of the moon.

Her hands, also black like the night, were careful as they settled on your shoulders. Three of her nails on each hand were painted red. The other two were black.

This woman appeared scary, but her comforting touch and her kind words were far from that. Just from her presence alone, you could tell that she was not a threat to you. She was not here to harm you or drag you into the knights’ custody.

You could tell just from her expression and her aura.

“Relax,” she whispered.

Her voice was authoritative, commanding, but there was an underlying softness in the way she spoke to you— as if she knew how to handle children your age. She brushed the hair out of your eyes.

“There is no need to cry anymore. There is no need to be afraid. You are safe.”

The kind words of this strange woman surged through you right to your heart. Your lip trembled, and your eyes gathered with tears once more. You shuffled towards her kneeled body, grabbing onto the blazer of her gray suit with fervor. You dug your face into her hold, your cheek resting against her stomach.

Sobs racked through your tiny body. She did not push you away like you expected. Instead, she knelt into a more comfortable position and gently patted your head as you cried.

You did not want her to leave. You were desperately hoping that this was not a dream. If this was a dream, it was a cruel one. A child of your age needed a parent right now, and your young mind latched onto the only adult figure that cared enough to show you sympathy.

“Shhh. It’s okay.” She shushed you. “I won’t be going anywhere.”

You snuggled into her further. Despite your attempts to cling to the only adult figure that showed you mercy and comfort, she did not reciprocate affection like a parent usually would. She had the ability to calm your nerves and soothe your mind, but she did not seem capable enough to coddle you like a mother would to her newborn baby.

She opted for little physical affection and let her words do the talking instead of her actions.

It was very fatherly. Not like you would know; you never knew your father— or your mother, for that matter.

“Come home with me.” She muttered. The words came out more like a statement, a demand, instead of a question. “I will raise you like a strict and unfeeling father.”

That was how you ended up in a foreign nation’s orphanage, more commonly known as the House of the Hearth.

The House wasn’t the best place. You came to find that many of the children were wackjobs— some more than others. But the orphanage was better than being thrown into jail for murdering a Mondstadt aristocrat.

The woman— Arlecchino, her name was —assured you that your background would be wiped clean. She promised you she would take care of everything regarding the matter of the aristocrat’s murder. You did not know whether to trust her judgment or not, but seeing as there was a roof over your head, food on your plate, and clean clothes at your disposal, you chose to trust her for now.

After all, this was the most attention you have received from an adult in your entire life. You never had more delicious food. In fact, you have never had this much food in your life. Instead of scrounging for scraps in alleyways and stealing more than a few apples from a vendor’s stall, you had three meals a day— including some snacks.

You no longer had one article of clothing. Arlecchino gifted you with lavish dresses that your younger self could only dream of wearing in her wildest daydreams. You were finally able to wash your body regularly without relying on the nearest river. In fact, you had a whole bathroom with a pristine bathtub, a fluffy towel, and hair and body wash that completely cleaned your whole body.

Instead of bunching up newspapers to sleep on and shivering in the brisk night breeze, you had a twin sized bed with comfy sheets and a bouncy mattress. Your pillow supported your head and neck, and you got a proper night’s sleep.

It was like a dream come true. You wondered when this fantasy would end. Indeed it did end— but briefly.

A few weeks after you settled in, Arlecchino came to have a chat with you. She ushered the other children out of the room and they obeyed without hesitation. She told you the first day she took you in to call her “Father,” to which you did so. But you couldn’t truly start addressing her as such when you did not know how a parent acted towards their child. It was something you would have to get acquainted with over time.

Of course, she was not going to force you to do anything until you were ready. Except this…

“This orphanage belongs to a Snezhnayan organization called the Fatui.”

She did not sugar coat her words, and perhaps that was a greater mercy than lying straight to a child’s face.

Your frown deepened. Ever so sharp, she caught the action. However, she said nothing. You let out a sigh and looked down at the polished marble flooring of the playroom. Your feet dangled off of the chair you were sitting on, not quite reaching the ground. You always were a bit smaller than your peers.

Perhaps it had been because of your previous living conditions.

A soft, “I see” left your lips.

You knew all about the Fatui. They paraded around the streets of Mondstadt as if they owned the place. The talk of the town always gave you information you wished to know. By hiding in the shadows and listening in on conversations, you quickly learned that the Fatui had close dealings with Mondstadt.

They were even close allies with impeccable trust five hundred years ago. The same could not be said today.

Today, they used Mondstadt’s mistakes as leverage for their own gain. You had been tossed around one too many times by a snobby Fatuus that barked at you to “watch where you’re going” and threatened to throw you in jail.

Their threats were no more than harmless jokes in your eyes. You did not care about their words. You were more scared of the Grand Master of the Knights of Favonius than you were of some high ranking Fatui officer. After all, what authority did a Snezhnayan officer have over a Knight in Mondstadt?

Nothing; Unless they blamed someone else for their wrongdoings and chalked it up to being another one of Mondstadt’s mistakes, further getting their Harbingers or even their Queen involved. That would then lead to foreign affairs with paperwork and more work that had the Knights complaining about how much they hated the Fatui.

“So you must be a Harbinger then.”

Arlecchino was surprised by your ability to catch onto things quickly. She silently praised you in that regard.

“Yes, I am.” She answered your rather rhetorical question.

“I know what the House of the Hearth is,” you heard about it a few times in passing, “you take in children from all over and raise them to be foot soldiers and sleeper agents for your poor excuse for a Queen.”

The way you spat out those words was commendable. Arlecchino couldn’t scold you for your raw display of distaste. After all, you were a child of Freedom. You were used to having free will and free speech.

“I would rather work as one of those deplorable Knights than be a part of your organization.”

Arlecchino decided she would let this one slide. You hadn’t become an official member of the House yet, so it was unfair to punish you for words of betrayal if you didn’t even officially belong to this organization. So… she let it get swept under the rug just this once.

Next time, she wouldn’t be so forgetful… nor would she show any mercy.

She opened her mouth, a deal ready on her lips, when you abruptly continued. “However… you have given me a bed to sleep on and healthy food with proper meals. You have given me a place to bathe and you even let me play with real toys. I suppose… living here wouldn’t be so bad.”

You were only a child. She thought you were a bit more mature for your age before, but considering how you completely disregarded the House’s initial purpose, she now believed otherwise.

You were looking forward to living in a real home with a real family. You did not consider that you were selling your soul to the devil— that you would be bound to this organization for the rest of your life. If you tried to leave, well… betrayal wasn’t taken lightly here.

“If you stay,” Arlecchino began, her voice stern like usual, “you can never return to the life of freedom you once lived.”

Was she giving you an out? It sure didn’t sound like it earlier. You searched her eyes, only to find nothing. She was adept at masking her emotions.

A sigh left your lips. “I would take here over how I lived before. I had nothing.”

“You had freedom—“

“How much of that did I really have if I was slowly dying before you found me?” You looked up at her, a hopeless expression dancing in your pupils.

She reconsidered her thoughts once more. Maybe you were smarter than what she gave you credit for.

With the deal sealed, she stood from her seat next to you and nodded curtly. “Alright,” you were now one of her children, “welcome to the House of the Hearth. From this day forward, I am officially your ‘Father.’”

The other children in the House were more than excited to have a new sibling. However, you wanted nothing to do with them.

To you, they were crazed animals with unusual interests and an unwavering loyalty to Arlecchino. Most of them, actually. Not all of the children saw her as their savior.

Even so, you were not intending to make friends or get close enough to call anyone your sibling. You stayed in your corner, staring at the wall more often than not, and wondering why you chose to stay.

It was not like you had anywhere else to go, though. You were a child, you could not support yourself in the real world yet. And if you were sent back to Mondstadt, who knew what would happen to you. You might not even make it that far out of Fontaine before getting killed.

Based on the way you mutilated that aristocrat though, you might have a chance. But your option to leave was now severed. You were officially a member of the House. If you tried to leave, you would lose your life. That was one of the most important rules of the House: betrayal was punishable by death.

Your legs dangled off the side of your twin sized bed. Gently knocking your feet together, you stared down at your flats. This was the first pair of shoes you ever owned, and Arlecchino had been the one to give them to you.

White with black lace trimming and a small black bow on top. The design engraved into the sides of the shoe resembled that of a swan’s wings. The flats fit you perfectly, as if they were made for your feet only.

A small smile graced your lips as you continued to study the shoes with a great deal of admiration. You would cherish these shoes with every ounce of care you had left in your heart.

Two figures stood outside the doorway to the bedroom that you shared with three other girls. Arlecchino had her arms crossed over her chest as she watched you silently. You refused to talk to any of the children, and although the desire to be alone was something she greatly understood, she felt a small ounce of worry settle in her gut.

If you did not make friends, then you would have no allies… and no allies in a world filled with threats coming at you from every angle meant you were completely alone with no one to help you in times of need.

Problem children were a common occurrence in any family. You happened to be the newest one on her roster. Your refusal to just about everything was beginning to make her aggravated. She tolerated it the first two weeks because of your upbringing and severe trust issues, but now it was getting out of hand.

Disobedient children had to be punished.

“Stop staring daggers into the back of the poor girl’s head.” The pompous voice of her coworker entered her ears.

Signora crossed her arms over her chest and sent you a sympathetic look. A sigh left her lips. “The poor girl. Another child abandoned by the Wind. If she harnesses that hatred and fuels it into revenge, she—“

Arlecchino let out a long sigh and briefly closed her eyes. “She has no need for revenge, Rosalyne. I am merely giving her a home. If she desires to be great, then I will make her great.”

The blonde woman let out a scoff. “Why am I talking to you like you’re a proper parent? You’re not even twenty years old yet.” She waved Arlecchino off. “No matter. I shall talk to her.”

With that, Signora sauntered her way into the bedroom. Arlecchino’s eye twitched involuntarily. The two did not get on like close friends, but Arlecchino still respected Signora greatly. She watched as the much older woman knelt down in front of you.

Maybe her words could finally persuade you to make some friends.

The sound of footsteps made you look up from your shoes. Your gaze met the icy cold eyes of a mature woman with long blonde hair that reached her knees, and rose colored lips. She wore a long, red and white dress that hugged her curves, with a slit on both sides, exposing her long legs. Her black heels clacked along the marble floor as she came to stand in front of you.

A large, white coat with black fur lining the hood hung around her shoulders. She was elegant and poised in everything she did, even as she knelt down to be eye level with you.

Her white earrings jingled at her movement, as did the chains on her winter coat. You did not know why she needed a winter coat when it was currently summer in Fontaine. Surely she had to be sweating right now.

Her gloved hands came to rest in her lap delicately as a kind smile tugged at her lips. You found it to be somewhat genuine. A trace of uncertainty laid underneath, like she had not smiled in years.

“My name is Rosalyne,” she spoke, her taunting voice entering your ears, “may I know yours?”

You hesitated. What was this woman trying to do? Did she want information out of you? You did not have any to give. Why was she here? A friend of your Father’s perhaps?

“(Name).” You muttered.

The woman, Rosalyne, nodded. “That's a beautiful name. What does—“

“Why are you here?” Your brows narrowed. What was she trying to achieve?

You barely knew her, and yet you could already read her like a book. She was not as kind as she seemed to be. She was holding up a mask, effortlessly hiding behind it.

Rosalyne huffed, her annoyance apparent with the slight twitching of her eye. She simply smiled. You were willing to test her patience to see how long she could keep up the nice guy act.

Instead of allowing her anger to take over, she took a deep breath. Her smile vanished, replaced with a frown that you assumed to be the real her. Her voice grew softer as she spoke.

“I was also born in Mondstadt.” That line alone grabbed your attention. “But I would not consider myself a child of the Wind like other Mondstadt natives.”

There was a passion in her voice, along with a deep rooted hatred. Every word that left her lips pertaining to the Nation of Freedom was spat out as if she could not even stand the thought, let alone talk about, her home.

You did not love the people of Mondstadt. They treated you like a disease. But the Wind always favored you. You found yourself curling up on the soft grass near the tree in Windrise more often than not. You even considered Windrise your home for a time.

The fresh breeze was refreshing. It cooled your skin and warmed your heart. It comforted you on nights where you could not stand to survive any longer. It wrapped its arms around you and gently shushed you when you cried.

You did not love the people of Mondstadt… but you sure as hell loved the Wind and the scenery of your home. You missed the open fields and the jutted cliffs. You missed the wide, cloudless, starry sky and the outline of Celestia in the sky when the moon crossed behind it.

You missed the afternoon breeze and the tolling of the bells on top of the cathedral. You missed dandelions, and picking fresh berries on sunny days. You would forever miss the atmosphere of the streets of the city, and the lively songs of the bards on each corner.

But you would never miss the people— their words spat in your face and the way they wanted nothing to do with you.

Unlike Rosalyne, you still considered yourself a child of the Wind. You thought of yourself as such because of your close connection and love for the Wind. You assumed she did not want to associate herself with the title because of some resentment she harbored towards the Anemo Archon and the people of Mondstadt.

You were indifferent in your thoughts about the Anemo Archon. What did it matter that he did not rule Mondstadt personally? The people could take care of themselves just fine without the guidance of a god. So why did some harbor hatred towards him for his absence?

To you, his absence was all you knew. Besides… didn’t he return every harvest season to bless the wine and the land? What more did the people want from him?

He had always been an absent Archon, as far as you were concerned, and you would much rather have him be absent than be a helicopter parent like Inazuma’s Archon.

“Do you miss Mondstadt?” you found yourself asking, out of pure curiosity.

Rosalyne’s pretty gray eyes widened significantly, before she looked away from you. She stood up and took a seat next to you on the neatly made bed. She shimmied out of her winter coat and folded it delicately beside her. She placed her hands in her lap.

“It has been quite a while since I returned,” she said. Her voice cracked a little, so fleeting you almost missed it. Her shoulders slacked. “But I wouldn’t say I miss it. I do miss the memories I made there… but that was a long time ago. Dwelling on the past won’t do me any good.”

You looked up at her, studying her stoic expression. There was a hint of sadness that flashed in her eyes, but it was gone as soon as it came. She cleared her throat, regaining her composure. You noticed her shoulders tense once more.

It seemed as long as she put up that mask, she could not fully relax.

Her tone switched to one filled with affection. “I have something for you.” She dug through the pocket of her large winter coat and sent you a smug smile. “Close your eyes.”

Instead of closing your eyes, you opted to turn your head away. You did not trust closing your eyes. The last time someone told you to… —no, you could not remember that now of all times. You wish you could forget it.

“Hold out your hand.”

You did as told. Something fluffy was placed into your hand, and you turned around to face her once more. Sitting in your hand was a wolf plush. It had gray fur and black beady eyes. Its tail was bushy, and its snout was long.

A look of confusion crossed over your face as you looked up to meet Rosalyne’s gaze. A genuine smile rested on her lips as she placed a hand on your shoulder.

“When your Father told me a child from Mondstadt arrived, I simply had to bring you a gift.” She told you, her voice dripping with affection akin to the kind a mother held for their child. “Since wolves are highly prominent to the nation, I decided on this rather than a Windwheel Aster.”

Truthfully, you would have loved any gift she gave you.

This was the first time you were ever receiving a gift. To say it touched your heart had been an understatement, as your lip trembled and you broke out into uncontrollable sobs. Is this what it was like to be thought of in a good light? Is this what it was like to be cared for and loved?

Rosalyne, who barely knew you for more than a half hour, had spent her own time and money on a gift for you when she did not know you yet.

She panicked a little as you cried, her hands reaching out to grab your shoulders. You could hear her mumble “what should I do” under her breath a few times before she pulled you closer to her and patted you on the back.

You eagerly wrapped your arms around her middle and dug your face into her side. Her whole body was oddly cold to the touch. A shiver ran down your spine from the severe drop in temperature of her body compared to Arlecchino’s extremely warm one.

Her bare skin was even colder. The gap in the sides of her dress that revealed her fair skin made that clear. As soon as your arm touched her skin, you pulled it back to rest on the back of her dress. The freezing cold lingered on your own skin for a while after, chilling you to the bone.

Her awkward pats on your head turned to slow strokes of her fingers through your hair, and her uneasy mutters turned to a soft hum of a lullaby from her lips. Her arms felt secure, like a warm fire in the middle of winter.

She cradled you as if you were her own, and in a hushed tone, whispered resolutely,

“We’ll show them. We’ll show them all.”

#— [ EMPIRE OF BLOOD 🥀 ]#dividers: saradika graphics #lyney #lyney genshin #lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyney x y/n #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n

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sparkly-sediment · 3 months

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Tf2 Mediscout headcanons pt 1

This was requested! If you have any little tf2 desires, my asks are open, as are fanfic commissions! Feel free to dm

Personally this ship awakens a beast within if you catch my drift

It started off just like the others. No jarring attraction, no electricity, no 😩🫦💦. Just two dudes who are now very weird coworkers

Medic def has a type and Scouts fit the bill. Skinny lanky boy toy! During various experiments and totally inconspicuous injections (he told Scout it was penicillin) he notes the slender frame and the lean muscles but he is a professional after all

Scout, however, is not

He’s initially unnerved by Medic and attributes it to the threatening, could-vivisect-you aura, but the tightness in his chest when Medic comes too close or Scout catches a hint of his french cologne isn’tfear

They work fairly separately for a while. Yes, they live together, but they also live in a chaotic team of nine with very different jobs. Their conversations aren’t close like Medic and Heavy or Scout and Sniper

Different peers groups yk? And with the age gap, Scout isn’t exactly knowledgeable in whatever the fuck old people talk about

Scout isn’t a little bitch. He got his ass beat as a kid, so he could handle a bloody nose or split lip, and going to the med bay means close contact with a man who makes him feel funny (like, more than any chick ever had), so Scout keeps out

Medic doesn’t like that. Medic usually corrals someone onto the operating table, and Scout becomes his main target. The others don’t mind since they aren’t being sliced up but there are a few comments between Engineer and Heavy about it

They aren’t uncomfortable, but they notice. No one had made it weird so Engie wasn’t about to do so and neither was Heavy. They just notice an uptick of scout/medic conversations, the two bumping into each other a bit more, and the brutality of experiments on Scout decreasing

They’re highkey jealous LMAO who knew the doctor wouldn’t hurt you if he thought you were hot

Medic starts insisting Scout come in the med bay more. That doesn’t last long, because Scout quickly starts going on his own will

“I uh, need a bandaid” absolutely bitchless and unsure of himself it is pitiful! Medic finds it endearing

By this point Scout is aware he finds Medic attractive but is repressing the shit out of it. Internalized homophobia, tragically.

The way Medic towers over him, with his broad stature completely enveloping Scout haunts the runner and Scout starts having some silly little thoughts he just can’t control

During fights with BLU, he watches Medic haul the medigun and really starts spamming E ifykyk

What if Medic was rough with him? What if Medic held him down, or pinned him against the wall? Scout can’t help the images that pop into his head despite his best efforts, and he really can’t help the flush his skin takes when Medic touched him or speaks in a low tone

Scout is folded like a five dollar lawn chair and foolishly thinks he’s hiding it well

Medic knows and is toying with Scout like a cat. Bats at the mouse, holds his leg a little too long after looking at Scout’s ankle. He backs off and acts like there’s nothing tense about leaning over Scout for something on the counter

Medic is surprisingly chill if he’s in his element. Find him in the med bay, cleaning or tinkering with something fleshy, and he is really just vibing. If you’re Scout sitting on the counter watching, then Medics dropping knowledge of the human body

Medic exercising his intelligence sends Scout into heat highkey. Boy has no idea what the fuck he’s talking about but damn those hands that accent the big words!! He is desperate!!

Apologies for the set up rather than active relationship head canons. I’ll post some getting together, fluffy, and maybe nsfw headcanons for this pair!! Didn’t want a too long post and am tbh exhausted 😜

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 headcanons #tf2 scout #tf2 medic #mediscout #tf2 engineer #heavy tf2 #medic x scout #yk that alskan dog that ran medicine to the villagers?#should be their ship name

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moonlight-tmd · 3 months

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Unicron and Primus meeting Bee's Partners in the god sparkling au?

Been a while since i talked about this old thing-

Hmm well, I suppose i coulld pull together the very unstable story i've put together for this AU. But let's skip to the "Meet your in-laws" scenes, shall we?

ProwlBee!

The first time Prowl met Unis (Unicron) he was scared for his life cuz this guy was huge. Not to mention the danger aura invading his EM field whenever he was near. Bee has always felt like a little trouble magnet to him but this guy was that x1000. Unis on the other hand tries his best to not squish the black boring bug his beloved bitty chose as a mate- this guy doesn't even know how to tell a joke for frag's sake! How is he supposed to entertain his bitty when all the stuff he does is boring... Oh well, he supposes he makes Bee happy and safe, but if he ever makes his sweet supernova cry then he will regret it.

Prisma (Primus) was a whole lot different as you imagine- sure he was still big, maybe bigger than Unis, but unlike him he almost didn't feel threatening. There was something about him that made everyone calm down. Prowl was quite happy that this one actually likes him and even shares few of his interests. Prisma was also happy that his bitlet found someone who can take care of him and make him happy. Although it might have hurt him a tiny bit seeing how similar Prowl and Bee are to him and Unis... he'l keep an eye out just in case something goes wrong.

ShockBee!

When Bee introduced Longarm to Unis there was this awkward moment of just them staring at one another. Bee couldn't tell what's wrong but Longarm was momentarily trapped in his own hell- He stood before the God of Chaos himself and could do nothing as the disguise he had faded away before he snapped back to reality with Bee and Unis. Longarm generally avoids Bee's Papa, he believes he doesn't like him... and he does! Unis knows perfectly what "Longarm" is and does and, despite loving the thrill of danger and betrayal, he DOES NOT like that he is his bitlet's mate. There's so much things that could go wrong and he is not willing to risk anything and have Bee cry because of this double-agent. He makes sure to let him know he's not welcome and hopefully breaks up with Bee.

Prisma was not that different. Longarm felt the same imposing aura and saw his image just like he did with Unis, and it effectively made him doubt all his life choices. Prisma also doesn't like that this mech is full of lies and betrayal, he may not be as direct as Unis but he does give him the cold shoulder. Also he and Unis finally agreed on something together, hooray!

BlitzBee!

Unis almost decapitated Blitz the first time he saw him- Blitz jumped Bee and picked him up, Unis attacked thinking Bee was in danger. Fortunatelly Bee stopped him before anything bad could happen- Blitz, upon knowing that the mech who nearly killed him is Bee's dad... well, he definitely kept himself in line around both. Although not for long as Unis rather quickly took a liking to him- he called him a freak in an affectionate way (?) and seemed to enjoy his company. Unis liked the way Blitzwing was; he was fun, unstable and very strong- perfect recipe for chaos! He was happy for Bee to have found himself someone so good to mate with.

Prisma tho, wasn't as impressed as Unis but he still was accepting. Although in a way one would accept someone disabled or with defects. The first time they were ever left alone Prisma told him he went thru so much and that he will make sure the ones who hurt him will pay the price of doing so. Blitzwing was confused but he didn't say anything. He didn't complain, both of Bee's parents seemed to approve of their relationship. Although it would've been nice if Unis didn't slip and reveal them to the others before they could come up with a plan to do so...

#maccadam #tfa #ask box #blitzbee #prowlbee #shockbee #tfa au #god sparkling au

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luminarai · 5 months

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May we please see pictures of the beast?? 🥺

Always <3

Here she is attempting to intercept any rogue brain cells that might be floating by (she has yet to succeed)

We’re slowly getting more and more sunlight hours here, which means melting time in our household

And finally, the sight that greeted me as I woke up from a nap recently. I cannot put the threatening aura of this image into words. Enjoy!

#cecil blogs her life #mim the cat #black cats #cats on tumblr #she’s currently snoring in the window sill #she’s as elegant as a typewriter being kicked down the stairs. I love her

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imviotrash · 6 months

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The Midfords and the inversion of gender roles

So the Midfords have been on my mind lately, specifically the way they establish themselves within a heavily gendered society.

This already starts when we look at their names. Alexis and Frances are incredibly gender neutral names, meanwhile Edward and Elizabeth are THE boy and girl names of that time.

They present themselves as the ideal family: a powerful husband, a dutiful wife, an ambitious eldest son and an engaged younger beautiful daughter, but if we look closer at the family, we see that they do not fit neatly into those categories.

-Alexis may be a man of high power and status, but he is also very much like his daughter. He's bubbly, incredibly affectionate, crafty and absolutely adoring of his strong wife.

-Francis is very well mannered and proper, but she is strict. She is very open about her opinions (especially regarding men) and is authoritative over the way people present themselves. She possesses over incredible strength (which lead to her husband falling head over heels for her) and acts as the head of the household.

For Lizzy and Edward we thankfully had some internal dialogues, which makes it a lot easier to read them.

-Elizabeth is a sweetheart and a girly girl in every sense of the word, but just like her mother she possesses over a lot of strength and skill. In terms of her behaviour and interests, she takes a lot from her father, being very affectionate and bubbly, but when faced with danger, she takes after her mother: jumping in the face of danger without a second thought and abandoning her image of a helpless girl to protect her loved ones. Her character arc revolves around her struggling to find the balance and connection between her girlhood and her strength. She is tied to the gender roles of Victorian society, but because of her families status as British knights as well as her future husband's job, she is also forced to abandon them in order to protect herself.

-Edward is ambitious gentleman and very protective over his family, but he's also incredibly awkward and his desire to be a gentleman is stretched to a very ridiculous extreme, causing the exact opposite effect of what hes trying to achieve: He doesn't trust other men, He's awkward, hes loud, he is very salty and very sex-repulsed. He does not possess the same strength as his sister and has come to accept that with grace. He takes after his mother in both looks and behaviour, although he fails to have the threatening aura his mother does, because of his awkwardness. He takes a lot after his father in terms of his awkwardness, being a little air headed just like him and being very obedient to Francis.

Overall, this family adheres to gender roles on a surface level, but the deeper you look, the more it is apparent they also stray very far from them. I love the way they are written and I do hope we get to explore more of them in depth in future arcs.

#in conclusion: Edward Midford asexual king #black butler #vio speaks #edward midford #elisabeth midford #kuroshitsuji #elizabeth midford #lizzy midford #frances Midford #alexis midford #alexis leon midford #francis midford

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ptn-imagines · 7 months

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the cute plushies from eve's event live in my head rent free so... sinner's reactions to their s/o getting a plushie of them? with zoya and and langley (although i might come into your inbox asking for more later, it's difficult to choose just a few😭)

Eve's event in general lives rent-free in my head all the time because it had such a profound effect on me (I cried and I know I'm not the only one). Also, hey, congratulations on being the first person to request multiple characters at once! (I filled another request first, but trust me, your ask came in first.)

Reacting to their S/O getting a plushie of them

Zoya

At first, she’s taken aback, because never once in her life did she imagine her image being turned into a marketable plushie.

Once the shock wears off, though, she grins.

“A plushie of me? Kinda cute. More like you than me, though.”

You figure out she’s calling you cute, seeing as the plushie is her spitting image, albeit chibi and adorable.

You kinda figured she’d tease you about it, and she lives up to your expectations. She calls the plushie “Lil’ Zoya” and it’s a near-constant companion for the two of you.

Over time though, Zoya genuinely becomes really attached to the plushie. Your plushie? Sorry, it’s hers now. That’s her child and don’t you dare suggest that it’s any lesser just because it’s felt and cotton. If she had any less dignity she’d probably be buying little outfits for it.

Still, it’s the perfect chance to tease her back. She’ll huff about it jokingly, but take it in good stride. Fair is fair, after all, and as her beloved significant other, you can get away with a lot.

And if you try to tease that she likes Lil’ Zoya more than you, Zoya is more than willing to show you just how beloved you are to her.

Langley

It’s pretty hard to read her reaction at first, so you worry she’s upset with you at first.

Those worries vanish when she finally lets out an amused chuckle and pats you on the shoulder.

“Looks well-made, dear. Where did you get it from?”

You shyly explain that it’s one of Eve’s toys, and Langley nods. “Well, I’m glad this one is just a replica, and not the genuine article, hm?”

You rush to agree with her, a blush forming on your face, and she chuckles again. Of course, she’s just teasing you, you knew that. But you can’t help it. You adore your girlfriend, but she just has this aura…

“You’d best take care of the toy, hm? It would be a shame if something happened to it.”

It sounds like a threat, but you know Langley well enough to know that it isn’t. She wouldn’t threaten a toy. It’d be a very pointless endeavor and you can’t imagine what the plush would have done to earn her ire in the first place. It is, quite literally, just existing.

So yeah, Langley isn’t bothered by the plushie, nor is she as enamored with it as Zoya is. She does think it makes you even cuter, though. Her cute little pet.

#ptn #path to nowhere #ptn langley #path to nowhere langley #langley #ptn zoya #path to nowhere zoya #zoya #ptn headcanons #path to nowhere headcanons #headcanons

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violetevermore24 · 2 months

Text

A Different Pride

So this fic took longer than expected. I tried my best to write Cero here and probably failed miserably at it /lh. This is mainly because it's the first time I wrote an egotistical prick like Cero.

I tried to draw the two for this because why not? Plus it's fun to draw Cero ngl, even if it was a bit challenging.

The sour grape, Cero and Reiba belongs to @eldritch-spouse. Please support the amazing artist/writer, she deserves it for making me interested and simp for her characters! 😄

CW: Mentions of Forced Marriage; Cero is his own warning; Toxic relationship; Mention of Egg-preg; Choking

Heavy footsteps of the Queen of Pride echoed the hallways with the team of imp servants scuttering about and dutifully fulfilling their roles. His towering body felt like an intimidating giant in comparison, one that radiates respect and coldness, fitting for his role as a ruler. The additional permanent aloofness only serves to support it. He didn’t even need to use his sharp violet eyes to know that his presence made the servants’ bodies tense up like statues despite working for him for several months, which was understandable given their King has the patience of a spoiled toddler and the Queen has the aura that screams ‘Test my patience and you will regret it’.

Everyone in the mansion could tell that there was tension between the royal couple, but none dared to say a peep.

Lucian, a name he gave himself for centuries, has long blonde hair tied to the back - showing his smooth square face and forced to wear a face-cringing and stuffy suit in purple and black to match his husband. It was one he hated wearing from the amount of sweat he’d accumulated within the past few hours, and being in a hot environment like Hell doesn’t help.

The purple scales on his hand and arms itched with the temptation to lull him into scratching it. It took all of his willpower to reign himself on an imaginary leash so he wouldn’t try ripping off his clothes just to feel a semblance of coolness brushing through his muscular body. If he did that, Cero would be popping more veins than Lucian growing more strands of grey hair, and while the image was enticing, another round of unnecessary tantrums made him mentally shove it into the depths of his mind.

Quiet frankly, the existence of Cero being the King of Pride was an indirect mockery to Lucian who he considers himself to embody the sin. So much so, that he wants the world to smite the pale demon on his behalf.

The long and wide hallway of the mansion was dawned in hues of purple and black, in contrast to Lucian’s castle that’s in white and purple. The expensive and high-quality pieces of furniture and decorations in every corner and inch of the place would make any lower class cry in awe.

The walls hung the many paintings of the King with his familiar yet disgusting arrogance and sharp facial features that reflected the Pride Ring it represented. The dreaded atmosphere lingered on those braved enough to walk into its unwelcoming embrace that threatened to suffocate you of all your worth.

Always striving for perfection, was what Lucian can describe as his asshole of a husband. He could hardly remember how many times he wanted to knock Cero’s ego down a peg over the course of their marriage. Hell, he sometimes thought of railing him to submissiveness every time he opened his mouth, no matter how much the idea made him grimace. The fucking demon is really edging him this far. It’s almost impressive.

He had no one but himself to blame for his predicament. His cold heart thumped when Cero showed him the contract, albeit a corrupted one, but a good one nonetheless. The way he holds himself. The way he explains the process of the contract, simultaneously expresses his pride for his skills and intelligence. It was the ideal courtship he imagined, minus the kidnapping, and he fell hard for it. Even if he didn’t, it wasn’t like he had any other choice. From what he learned, Icons of Hell are forces that shouldn’t be trifled with, and he could get severely injured in the process. Even if he did won, he had to crawl himself out of Hell and getting more injured from other demons. Whether they care about the death of the Icon of Pride or not is up in the air and Lucian won't take his chances.

Because of these raging fantasies that will lead to his ending, his footsteps quicken to speed walking pace towards the library, causing many of the passing servants to sweat drop from the intense aura he emits mixed with his resting bitch face. It’s a sanctuary for him and the one place he can indulge in his hobby while pretending he isn’t stuck in a prison that he can’t escape from.

For once, he can fantasize a life where he was in a “better” relationship.

With someone who doesn’t say his handmade violet gemstone, an indirect ‘I love you. so. fucking. much’, that it wouldn’t look “perfect” for any artificial trinket. The gall to insinuate a dragon’s gem won’t look magnificent unless it’s turned into a fucking accessory is a personal insult to its creator. Oh if only that demon understood how much he left a crack in his Queen’s heart that day.

Just say my gem is garbage, you fuck. He huffed, brushing his blonde hair back.

Sure, the gem was not perfect, but Lucian had made countless attempts to form his scales into gems in secret for over a month, many of which were wasted because it wasn’t up to his standards, until it was exactly how he wanted to look. All those tiring days to form a singular scale into a suitable gemstone for his mate. Even, the head servant was willing to help keep his project hush-hush from Cero and give her different flavors of puddings for compensation.

The result was an almost palm-sized, smooth purple gem with slight bumps, shaped like an oval. He vividly remembered how his chest puffed up with pride at his creation.

The failed creations still sat in his personal bedroom drawer to this day as a reminder of his endeavor and that hell forsaken reaction.

A part of his mind reminded him that it was a Pride Demon’s love language, to make everything about them and show little vulnerability, but that went one ear and out the other.

The cold air seeps through the faint crack of the large door and embraces the newcomer as the door is pushed open and rumbles through the large and grand library, filled with thousands of books and organized into their categories. Cero had demanded that all of the servants ensure that not a single book was misplaced or damaged, lest they want to face the wrath of the Icon. An act that Lucian appreciates, almost made the edges of his lips tug up when no one was looking.

While he scans through the various shelves, one section catches his eyes and widens like saucers. There’s an entire six rows of novels with a hardcover and arranged in their perspective genres. The humanoid dragon didn’t recall ever seeing this new section and he doubted Cero was the kind to read these books, trying to search his already old memories to find answers, until one event came to mind, a complaint that he made to his husband about the lack of novels in the library and got told that his taste in books was god awful. Another petty grudge to hold against him.

The frown turned upside, forming into a genuine, rare, warm smile, forgetting his frustrations with his pompous husband. “You exceeded my expectations once again” He humored himself, as he took a random novel off the shelf and sat near the windowsill, turning to the first page.

Lucian was already planning out his quality time with Cero in his mind, while simultaneously flipping through the pages and reading the sentences. Maybe he should start creating his second gem. A “perfect” one this time.

A serene ambiance settles into the library that day……

Why does it feel like he forgot something?

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Insecurity is an ugly feeling to have, especially for a proud demon. It will gnaw at them till they do something to prove that little whisper in their heads that whatever degradation it throws their way is completely wrong, a lie that should never be said in the first place.

Unfortunately, Cero can’t entirely control how his feelings and mind operate. Ever since he successfully made Lucian his Queen with the contract, something he put all his blood, sweat, and tears into despite the haste, and feeling waves of euphoria from the smooth process and his obedient (he isn’t) inamorato following diligently to the lessons he planned out to be a fitting Queen of Pride.

When Lucian gifted him the gemstone he put equal blood, sweat, and tears into that Cero’s ego was stroked into a disgusting smarmy smile and chest puffed up to an obnoxious degree. Heck, he even kept the gemstone in a separate safe after admiring it like a love-struck teenager whose crush just gave him a love letter.

While he wished it was better quality, the fact his inamorato offered him physical proof of his race’s eternal love - after a lot of painful waiting on the demon’s side, was good enough. Shame, he missed the flash of hurt and anger that came when the pallid demon expressed how his lovely gem wouldn’t be fitting for any accessories. Apart from their soon-to-be new wedding rings.

He wanted to return that affection, but no matter what he does, no matter how much he shows off his talent, intelligence, and his monologue about how ‘he must be lucky to have him as his husband and King and saving him from that pig’s pen of a home’. Going as far as showing his much softer side to the stubborn dragon, yet he couldn’t make a dent in his Queen’s stubborn walls. It was as if he expected something from him but didn’t know what it is.

What is wrong with him? Is it part of the courtship? Why isn’t he giving his King his usual physical touch? The soft gazes? The genuine adoration? Why is he trying so damn hard to not show it!? Whirlwinds of countless questions without answers were eating the demon alive.

Cero’s sharp claw of his index finger taps away at his forearm, filling the halls with his frustrations that threaten to explode.

Poor Reiba is standing near him like a deer in headlights, being careful with her pose and speech lest she wants to be ripped in half in this minefield. She was also confused why the Queen grew distant from Cero, but she figured it must’ve been a cultural difference or a miscommunication.

The door to the library was left slightly ajar, and only one person would do it.

The cold air from the room made the pallid demon shudder, regretting ever implementing the cold stones into the library so his inamorato wouldn’t melt into a pathetic puddle while he was reading. “That idiot is still doing this?! How many times do I need to drill it into his pathetic excuse of a memory until he understands?!”

Various images of how he will discipline his dumb Queen. Ranging from whipping to overstimulating till the dragon begged for him to stop with big fat tears. It caused his shaft to almost slip out of his slit at the mere thought of it. How embarrassing.

The two demons brace themselves with cold resistance magic before entering the library. Cero strides elegantly towards the spot near the windowsill like it was second nature.

“Is there something you need from me, Cero?” Lucian quips as he raises his head from the book. It’s always amusing to see Cero and Reiba shivering from the cold.

The pallid demon crossed his arms, glared daggers at the dragon, and a scowl plastered his white facade with patches of salmon. “You better have a good reason for leaving the door open again!” Ah here it is, his incessant whining. Classic.

Lucian internally scoffed at it, knowing full well that he did it on purpose to lure him here. Time to flatter him, much to the dragon’s dismay. “I’m so sorry, my beloved King. My carelessness has prevented me from being a worthy Queen to someone as handsome and amazing as you. Is it so wrong of me to wish to see your beautiful eyes and hear your voice that lulls me in like a siren?” He offers a small smile as an extra.

Gods above, he wants to gag and hurl from saying such cheesy lines. He couldn’t believe he stooped this low for self-preservation.

The silence is all the answers he needs. He could see his chest puff up and a slight flush on his cheeks from his ego being preened. Even though Lucian could be bullshiting every word.

Once Cero’s mood has been lifted, the dragon sees fit to clear up something.

The Queen makes a hand gesture for Reiba to leave the two in private, knowing the aftermath could become worse if she stays and he cannot afford to have her get caught in the crossfire.

The pale imp went still as statue, and glanced to her king for his input. Fortunately, Cero waves his hand to dismiss the head servant. It’s done out of curiosity and intrigue on the demon’s side, as Reiba leaves the library.

Once Lucian is sure that the two are alone, he’s the first to break the silence. “While you’re here, I want to clear a misunderstanding between us”

“A misunderstanding?” Cero raised an eyebrow. Attentively listening to what he has to say.

“I’m aware that dragons are rare species, let alone knowledge of us aside from mythologies humans created. The gem I gave you the other day. It’s why I want to explain that it’s used as a vessel to store energy for when the mother requires more stamina before labor to ensure a safe birth and usually the gem is eaten raw” He explains with his stoicness, letting it sink in.

A reminder that they can’t have a biological heir, at least to him. The demon’s face morphs into a look that says ‘So what?’ mixed with impatience and offense. “That’s it?”

Lucian didn’t think Cero would be this oblivious to the message, but he’s not complaining. If anything, the dragon is internally elated for the grand reveal. One that will surely dig his own grave. “I wish to save this last information until I create a second gem for you, my beautiful King. But since you’re curious….”

“Get to it already! I don’t have all day!”

“The gem is also used as an artificial egg for same-sex couples. The process simply needs you to shove the gem into your anus and I-”

Cero immediately grabbed Lucian’s neck in a blink of an eye before he could finish the sentence. The former’s sharp claws, which he diligently filed and maintained to perfection, are threatening to pierce through the skin. If it was possible, Cero’s face went redder than Kalymir’s entire body and radiating that same anger as he does but more mellow and dangerous. Despite this, Lucian’s aloofness never wavered, only making the demon’s blood pressure skyrocket to the moon.

“Choose your next words carefully, pet” The venom is clear as crystal.

“My next words are exactly as I implied, my beloved King. I want to see you glow as the sun when you bear our heir” A rare soft gaze and smile stretch his face. A dragon will not back down without a fight.

#Cero oc #Lucian Oc #Oc x another oc #fanfic #artwork #Reiba Oc

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icarusignite · 1 month

Text

An Eye for an Eye Ch.10

MASTERLIST / ao3 / wattpad

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x OC

"I am malicious because I am miserable. Should I not be shunned by all mankind."

Summary: Lord Boros Baratheon of Storm's End is offered a chance to bend the knee to Rhaenyra Targaryen, and when he refuses, his ambitious daughter is more than happy to sacrifice him for his seat. And who better to support her cause than Daenys, the girl she has built a careful friendship with over the years for this very reason.

Word Count: 5.5k

The grounds of Dragonstone lay bathed in the soft hues of early morning, a tranquil aura hanging in the air like a whispered secret. Dew-kissed grass sparkled beneath the gentle caress of dawn's first light, while the distant echo of birdsong danced on the breeze, and Daenys Velaryon stood silently amidst the serene tableau, her figure a mere silhouette against the backdrop of the ancient stone walls of the castle behind her.

Beside her stood the Queen with a furrowed brow, her expression etched with concern as she gazed upon her daughter, sensing the coils of tension that wound so tight inside of her that she dreaded the moment she wound finally burst.

"Daenys," Rhaenyra's voice finally broke the silence. "Are you sure about this? You've only just returned. I cannot bear to lose you again so quickly."

The princess turned to face her mother, her eyes reflecting the weight of her decision. She reached out, taking Rhaenyra's hand in her own, the touch a silent reassurance. Pressing a tender kiss to her mother's hand, she then pressed it to her own forehead, a gesture of filial love and respect.

"I must do this, Mother," her voice resolute, her words inlaid with Valyrian steel itself. "I will return, and I will not return empty-handed. You have my word."

There was something dark in her tone, the same sort of vicious conviction that had hovered over her for the past few days, and Rhaenyra's heart clenched, a mixture of pride and fear warring within her.

"If this is truly your path, then I will not stand in your way, but before you go, I have something for you."

As Rhaenyra's words hung in the air, Daenys's heart quickened with anticipation, her uninjured eye widening in surprise as her mother produced the unexpected gift from behind her, withdrawing the sword slowly, its hilt gleaming in the soft morning light.

Daenys's breath caught in her throat at the sight of the weapon, her gaze drawn irresistibly to its familiar form. Tears threatened to spill, but she fought against them, steeling herself against the tide of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.

It was stunning; dark grey, almost black, with a ripple-patterned surface that was distinctive to Valyrian Steel. Daenys reached out, her fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against the cool metal, tracing the length of the blade with a reverence born of familiarity.

Elegant in its simplicity, the longsword was devoid of the ostentatious ornamentation favoured by some, yet its beauty lay in the single sparkling sapphire embedded into the pommel, the colour akin to the clearest of seas on the calmest of days. It had been lovingly polished till it gleamed, well-loved and cared for despite the absence of its original owner, and just the sight of it brought back memories of laughter and the image of a smile that seemed permanently etched into Daenys's heart.

When she met her mother's gaze, a silent question lingering in the air between them, Rhaenyra's eyes softened with unspoken understanding, her lips curving into a tender smile as she answered the unvoiced inquiry.

"It was his."

I know.

Of course, Daenys knew. Her father had tried her with the very same sword. She had seen it every morning for years on end, and sometimes when he was feeling particularly generous, he'd let her spar with it. She had been curious about the fate of the sword, but it felt irrelevant in the face of his glaring absence, and she assumed it had been returned to House Velaryon along with the rest of his artifacts.

"Laenor had never been one for fuss or frills, you know that. But he would have liked for you to have it."

How do you know what he would have wanted?

Did you have it the whole time?

Why give it to me now?

There were so many more questions to ask, yet the forlorn princess could not bring herself to utter the words, and for that her mother was grateful. Rhaenyra didn't think she had it in her to provide truthful responses to her daughter's inquiries and she was glad to be spared the impossible task. She still hadn't reached out to Laenor yet, despite Daemon's insistence that having another dragon rider on their side would be useful. It felt too unfair. Laenor deserved to live a life free from the burdens of court that weighed so heavily on him, far away from the prying eyes and wagging tongues of all those who sought to slander him. To drag him back into a war of the Hightower's creation simply felt too cruel, and yet a part of her yearned to have him by her side once more, if only to tame the fire she could see so plainly in her daughter's eyes.

He was the only one who could ever mollify her, and by giving Daenys his sword, Rhaenyra liked to think she might stay her hand. Perhaps the memory of the father she had revered would placate her enough to prevent her from doing anything rash that would only endanger her further.

"Will you name it?"

Daenys realized with some guilt that she could not remember what her father had named the sword. Try as she might, she could not dredge up the memory, and it left her feeling off-kilter. She would have to give it a new name, one befitting all it meant.

"Queenmaker."

The sun was warm against her when Daenys set off for Storm's End, the waters below her were deceptively calm as she flew across. If she closed her eyes, the crisp morning air felt soothing against her face, and for a moment she could pretend that she was simply going out on a leisurely morning ride. The occasional stinging twitch in her face was remedied by the frequent sips from the flask at her waist, where a freshly brewed batch of the Grand Maester's tonic swirled. His words of caution echoed faintly in her ears as he repeatedly warned her not to overdo it, but Daenys didn't particularly care. It kept the pain at bay and if her fifteen-year-old self had taught her anything, it was that she was an expert at acclimating to poisons she wasn't supposed to ingest.

She gazed at the horizon and took a moment to enjoy the delicate pastel colours that covered the sky, a seed of reluctance taking root in her heart. She wanted this to end well it was almost pathetically naive. She wanted Lord Borros to apologize for his disobedience and swear allegiance to her mother, and she wanted to return to her Queen without blood staining her hands.

She just wanted to be her mother's little girl, unblemished and whole. She wanted to live in a world where her brother was still alive, and she was celebrating her name day with those she loved and who loved her in return.

She just wanted-

There was no time for self-pity as the ground rushed up beneath her and her dragon landed in the courtyard with a mighty roar. Daenys felt a flicker of unease when one of the knights stationed outside flinched at her arrival. She had never elicited such a reaction before. She had never been someone to fear, and she wasn't sure how she felt about it.

"I am Princess Daenys Valaryon, and I bring a message to Lord Borros from Queen Rhaenyra," she declared as she climbed off, head held high.

The knight nodded, turning to lead her inside and Daenys felt a strange burst of nostalgia. She had made frequent trips to Storm's End to visit Lady Cassandra, and it hurt to think about how the place that held such cherished memories had become her brother's grave.

Now, instead of recalling the moments of laughter and afternoons spent sprawled on the grass listening to Cassandra's melodic voice drifting through the trees, all Daenys could think about was Lucerys's final hours. She was walking across the same gravel courtyard he did, climbing up the same stone steps, and if she could just reach her hand through time, she'd grab him by the collar and drag him away from those foreboding doors. She'd pull him away before he ever entered, before he faced lord Boros, or her husband, before she lost him.

But Daenys Velaryon was no magician or witch and she could not reach through time. She remained hopelessly stuck in her unfortunate present, making the same journey her brother did, and hoping that this time it ended differently.

"Princess Daenys Velaryon," her accompanying knight announced.

There he sat, Lord Boros Baratheon up on his seat of stone, with a heart hewn from the same unyielding substance. He looked annoyed, a scowl painting his face as if someone had interrupted his breakfast. She met his eyes with an unwavering stare, though inwardly she bristled at the way his gaze lingered on her injury, appraising her with a calculating eye, his lips curling into a smirk

Daenys's hair, pulled back in tightly braided coils, left her face exposed, every line and contour on full display for an audience's perusal. She had allowed Maester Gerardys to pack her wound with salve and wrap it securely, but the scar was still visible no doubt, puckered and angry as it snaked its way down her cheek in a crimson line, a stark contrast against the pallor of her complexion.

"Well, well, well. Look who we have here. Another one of Rhaenyra's pups?"

Do not be rude. Do not be insolent.

The one-eyed princess took a deep breath. She had promised her mother diplomacy. She had promised to at least try and be civil.

"The Queen sends her regards," she uttered calmly. "And in her graciousness, she has offered Storm's End another opportunity to ally itself with her."

Lord Boros raised an eyebrow, propping his chin on his hand, suddenly curious.

"Oh? Is that so? I'm afraid this is no good. The House of the Dragon does not seem to know who rules it, or perhaps it is only a certain faction that is unaware of the circumstances. There is a King now. King Aegon Targaryen, second of his name."

Another deep breath.

"You have been misinformed then, my lord. There is a Queen. There only ever has been a Queen after the passing of King Viserys, and I sincerely request that you pledge fealty to her. Given your late father's loyalty and goodwill, your past impudence will be forgiven, I am certain. My mother is a forgiving woman."

You will find, however, that I am not.

The Lord of Storm's End laughed. He actually had the gall to laugh in her face, and Daenys felt something angry and violent simmer under her skin. She imagined Luke standing here, rooted to the same spot she was now. Sweet, gentle Luke who always needed assurance, who shied away from the mere mention of confrontation, who had been left all alone in this unwelcoming place with no hand to hold.

"I humbly urge you to consider her offer, my lord."

"Well, I never...the insolence!" Lord Borros sputtered. "The disrespect that she shows House Baratheon, reminding me of my father's loyalty, and taking mine for granted."

"This kindness is all you deserve to be shown Lord Borros, particularly after breaking your house's sacred oath," Daenys hissed. "Or did you forget that your family swore their swords and banners when King Viserys named Queen Rhaenyra as heir? Is treason truly that effortless?"

Her patience was wearing thin, and so was Lord Borros's it appeared.

"Listen, you foolish girl. I shall say to you exactly what I said to your brother when he came begging. Tell your mother that the Lord of Storm's End is not some dog she can whistle up at need to set against her foes."

"How dare yo-"

"King Aegon has promised the hand of his son, the crown prince Jaehaerys to one of my daughters. I would be a fool to reject such a generous offer."

"Jaehaerys ?" Daenys looked bewildered, her frustration momentarily forgotten. "He is just barely out of infancy."

"A crown prince is a crown prince. It will still ensure that my bloodline will one day sit on the Iron Throne. A Baratheon will be king in the future."

"I am not here to bargain or barter with you. Only to present my mother's message of goodwill...so one final time, I strongly urge you to accept her terms, my lord."

"Rhaenyra should stop sending more of her children here disguised as diplomats. You would think she'd have learned her lesson after what happened to the last one, but no, that girl was never one for common sense. It is obvious that the progeny of House Hightower is not to be trifled with," Lord Borros sneered and Daenys's jaw tightened, sending a stab of pain through her face.

"That girl is your queen" she snapped, scowling. "Speak her name with the respect she deserves or do not speak it at all! My brother met his end on your lands. If you cannot take responsibility, then the least you can do is show reverence. My mother is the Queen of Westeros and the 7 Kingdoms, and you will refer to her as such!"

Lord Boros's smile grew as if he was dealing with a petulant child, and in that moment Daenys felt like one.

Helpless. Foolish. Pathetic.

"Ah, Rhaenyra really outdid herself this time. She sent me an ill-tempered little girl to argue matters of state. Like mother, like daughter I suppose, and this is why women are simply unfit to rule," Lord Boros waved a hand at her condescendingly as if to dismiss her. "Return home princess, and hope that your husband takes you back after your treasonous display."

This was her breaking point, marking the single moment where Daenys felt something solidify inside of her. It was hard to ignore the primal urge coursing through her veins, a fierce longing to unleash the fury that simmered beneath the surface. Her fingers twitched, the metallic tang of her father's sword calling out to her like a siren's song, its weight a comforting presence at her waist.

She could almost imagine it, the image clear in her head. She would unsheathe the blade, and charge forward, the sword slicing through the air like the Stranger's scythe, each stroke a symphony of destruction as she cut down all who dared stand in her path. The guards, loyal servants of Lord Boros, would swarm around him like a protective barrier, their swords raised in defence of their master, but they would be no match for her.

The clash of steel would ring out like thunder, the sound of metal meeting metal echoing through the hallowed halls of Storm's End and Daenys's blood would sing when she would raze them all until all they lay at her feet. She would survey the carnage that lay in her wake, blood coating her skin from head to toe, a macabre tapestry of crimson that bore witness to the price of her vengeance.

There was more rage inside of her than she knew what to do with.

Still, it would not be enough. Not yet.

The final strike would be reserved for Lord Boros, and she would christen her father's blade with the blood of a lord. Then perhaps the ache would stop, if only to be replaced by the rot of sin.

But, the truth was, Daenys was no knight, no seasoned warrior hardened by years of training and battle. Even at her best, she could never hope to match the skill and strength of the trained sentries that guarded the castle walls. Her hands would tremble and she would find her sword suddenly much too heavy to lift.

With only half-functional vision, her depth perception skewed and her movements hindered, any attempt to confront Lord Boros and his guards would be nothing short of suicidal, and despite her desperate desire to meet the Stranger, she could not do it here. Of all places, Storm's End would not be her grave. Her mother would not lose another child here.

Delusions of grandeur could not change the harsh reality of her situation, and she felt foolish all over again. What did she even think to accomplish by coming here? She should have known this would happen, given the tales of Lord Boros's nature that his daughter had regaled her with.

"Very well, my lord. I do hope you remember that Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen made every effort to avoid bloodshed; to settle things with civility. You should know that only you are to blame for what is to follow."

"Is that a threat, princess?"

"No," Daenys tipped her head in a polite bow. "A promise."

And then, with a final nod of dismissal, she turned on her heel and made her way toward the exit, the knight who had accompanied her inside, far behind. She knew her way around well enough, and just as she turned a corner at the threshold of the gates, the sound of running footsteps shattered the stillness, echoing behind her. Daenys turned, her heart quickening with anticipation, to find a dark-haired girl gasping for breath as she sprinted toward her.

It was Cassandra Baratheon, her face flushed with exertion and her eyes momentarily blown wide with surprise as she beheld Daenys's scarred visage. For a moment, neither spoke, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air between them.

Cassandra felt a pang of concern, a flicker of a flame that might have grown into a wildfire if she let it fester. She wanted to take her face in her hands and peel away the bandages, to inspect the nature of the injury and ask her who had done this to her.

Her dearest friend, one of her most beloved.

She had a sinking suspicion that she knew the answer to her queries already, particularly after the show the one-eyed prince had put on just a few weeks ago. Cassandra had always found Daenys's eyes to be her most striking feature, and even now, she longed to brush away the stray strand of hair that fell over the bandage, to pull the truth from her like water from an old well.

But Cassandra Baratheon knew better than to pry, her curiosity tempered by their ominous circumstances. Daenys was not here as her friend, she was here as an envoy, and she no doubt held her family responsible for the demise of her brother.

"I heard you came," she managed breathlessly.

Daenys gave her a tight-lipped nod in response, her expression unreadable as she met Cassandra's gaze.

"And you're leaving again?"

The Targaryen princess shrugged as if to say, what is there to stay for?

"I...do not share my father's sentiments," Cassandra muttered, her expression darkening. "You must know that."

She didn't know why it was so important that Daenys knew that, but it was.

"You are his firstborn, his heir even," the princess finally spoke, her voice low. "I am sure your words hold some importance to him."

Cassandra snorted, "You don't truly believe that do you?"

Another shrug from Daenys.

"I am not even his heir. He keeps waiting for a son who will never arrive, and he refuses me my rightful inheritance."

As Cassandra's quick steps closed the distance between them, Daenys felt a rush of urgency prickling at her skin. Before she could react, Cassandra's hands were upon her shoulders, her fingers digging into them, practically slamming her into the shadowed alcove, away from prying eyes and ears.

The suddenness of her action caught the princess off guard, her breath catching in her throat as she found herself crowded into the narrow space, the cool stone pressing against her back. It was strangely reminiscent of all the times they had hidden from Cassandra's sisters during their games, but the atmosphere between them now held none of that pleasant nonchalance.

"If I were Lady of Storm's End," Cassandra's words were a harsh whisper, edged with determination, her gaze fierce as she met Daenys's. "I would not make the same mistake as my father. I would swear allegiance to the true queen of Westeros."

Oh.

This was a turn of events Daenys was not expecting. The last thing she thought she would see was Lord Boros's own daughter admitting to treason under his very roof, but perhaps she should have foreseen it. There was a reason that she was known as one of the Four Storms after all, and it had more to do with the fact that she became a force to be reckoned with once she set her mind to something.

Before she could respond, Cassandra stepped back, her demeanour suddenly casual as she brushed imaginary dust from Daenys's shoulders with a bitter smile playing upon her lips.

"After all, who would know better than I what it's like to be scammed out of one's inheritance."

As Cassandra searched for something else to say, the right words to say, a multitude of thoughts swirled within her mind like a tempest threatening to break free. There was so much she wanted to express, so many apologies left unspoken and grievances left unaddressed. But none of it seemed meaningful enough, none of it could bridge the chasm that was quickly forming between them.

With a heavy sigh, she found herself at a loss, her gaze dropping to the ground as she struggled to find the courage to speak. She did not want to dredge up the painful memories of her brother's death and remind Daenys of her grief, so, with a sense of resignation, she settled on the simplest truth she could muster.

"I missed you."

I wish you had not married him.

As Daenys made her way towards the waiting form of Silverwing, her massive frame dominating the courtyard like a titan of old, Cassandra found herself rooted to her spot, unable to tear her gaze away from the majestic creature before her—and her dragon.

The dragon's silver scales glinted in the sunlight, each one shimmering like a star in the daytime, and it waited patiently for the command to take off, large unblinking eyes fixed upon its rider with a mixture of anticipation and impatience.

The moments stretched into eternity, but Daenys remained motionless, smoothing her hand down the beast's side, deep in thought. The dragon shifted restlessly, her massive form trembling with pent-up energy as she shook her head and unfurled her wings in a silent plea for departure.

Still, Daenys could not make herself climb on and take her leave. Not yet anyway. Not when Luke's pitiful face swam in her consciousness. Her encounter with Casandra had left her feeling hollow. Gone were the violent thoughts of setting the place ablaze, because while her enmity with Lord Boros ran hot in her veins, she had nothing against his daughters.

She could not return home empty-handed though. She had made a promise, and of all the things she was, she was not a liar.

Briefly, she wondered if Cassandra was making an attempt to convince her father, and how effective her words were going to be for a man who held no regard for daughters, even if they were his own.

Daenys must have stood there for hours on end, and eventually, the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the courtyard, tension hanging thick in the air like a storm waiting to break.

Finally, the gates of the castle swung open with a heavy creak, and Lord Boros stormed out, his expression thunderous as he made his way to stand right in front of the massive dragon's agitated form. Flanked by four knights, his presence was imposing, his authority palpable in every stride.

Daenys's gaze flickered with curiosity as she noticed Cassandra trailing behind her father, her expression unreadable as she watched the scene unfold. But instead of joining Lord Boros at his side, Cassandra veered off towards a corner of the courtyard, beckoning for one of the knights to follow her. Daenys found the placement curious, but she had little time to dwell on it as Lord Boros's booming voice shattered the silence.

"You must leave at once. Your presence here is unsettling to my household, and I will not tolerate it any longer!"

Daenys met Lord Boros's gaze with a steely resolve, her jaw set in determination as she squared her shoulders and stood her ground. She knew that her presence was a thorn in his side, a reminder of the simmering tensions that threatened to boil over at any moment. But she would not be intimidated, not by Lord Boros or anyone else. She had a mission to fulfill, a duty to her family.

"I will leave when I am ready, my lord, but not a moment sooner."

Lord Boros's face darkened with rage, his fists clenched at his sides as he struggled to contain his temper.

"This is certainly no way to convince me of an alliance."

"I am done trying to beg for an alliance with a man who has no honour," Daenys voice came out soft and measured.

Perhaps it was a foolish thing to say, but her grief was her rage and rage made one foolish.

"You come into my home and threaten me. And then you say that I am the one without honour? It seems as though Rhaenyra needs to teach her children manners."

Manners? Where had manners gotten any of them? Her mother in all her sweetness had been betrayed by the one she called a friend. Her brother was the most well-behaved child there ever was, and he too had met his end.

No, Daenys was done being well-behaved.

"King Aegon will not stand for this," the Lord of Storm's End fumed. "The Baratheons are his allies. He will send men to deal with you. You will face severe repercussions for your rash behaviour. He will send his brother the Kinslayer to defend us even. One does not cross the likes of him and live to tell the tale. just ask your foolish brother, princess."

"I will deal with Aemond Targaryen when the time comes," Daenys spat, her husband's name poison on her tongue.

"You are no match for him. They don't call him the Kinslayer for nothing."

Daenys's fingers clenched into fists, her nails digging bloody crescents into her palms.

"Killing my brother earned him that title! It is not a fearsome thing to be boasted about. It is a brand for killing a child. A child!"

"Blood is always shed at war, princess. This is the way of things. You would know if you were older and less naive."

If Daenys was capable of it, she would have laughed at him. She would have laughed at his suggestion and the ideas he put into her head, ideas of his own annihilation. It would have been amusing if it wasn't so horrific, if the thought of her desires didn't make her sick.

Beside her, her dragon let out a growl, a jet of steam bellowing out of its nostrils and up into the sky. Behind her, Cassandra's words floated through her ears once more.

If I were Lady of Storm's End, I would swear allegiance to the true queen of Westeros.

Her brother's baleful last words echoed in her mind as well, as he tearfully asked her when he'd see her again.

You can't be the one to go first. I'd never be able to bear it. Just the thought of not seeing you for a few days is making me sick, forget an eternity. I'd never survive.

In a twisted sort of way, she had obeyed his final wish. She had not been the one to leave first. He had, and for that, she'd never forgive herself.

If blood was always shed at war, then she'd show him just how true it was, consequences be damned.

"Qēlos," she muttered to her dragon, using the High Valyrian name she had given it, though seldom used. "Dracarys."

The command was uttered so softly that only the great beast could hear, and it wasted no time, her instincts honed by centuries of obedience and loyalty. With a flare of its nostrils as the only warning, it unleashed a torrent of flame from her gaping maw, the searing heat engulfing the figures stationed directly in front of her.

There was no time for them to react, no chance for them to flinch or flee as the flames consumed them with merciless efficiency. Their eyes widened in realization, a silent scream of terror frozen upon their lips as the inferno consumed them whole.

The smell of acrid smoke and burning flesh filled the air, a sickening miasma that clawed at Daenys's senses and threatened to overwhelm her. She recoiled in horror at the sight before her, her stomach churning with a wave of revulsion.

She was now a monster, a purveyor of death and destruction, and the weight of that realization bore down upon her with crushing force. She had never taken a life, and now she had taken four. Tears pricked at the corners of her eye as she surveyed the charred remains of the men who had dared to oppose her, their once proud forms reduced to nothing but smouldering husks amidst the wreckage of the courtyard. Their screams had been cut short before they even had a chance to begin, their lives extinguished in an instant by her merciless fury.

Then, Cassandra strode forward with purpose, her expression resolute as she pressed a sealed letter into Daenys's trembling hands. The princess raised an eyebrow in question, her gaze flickering between the letter and her friend's determined expression.

"You may take this to Queen Rhaenyra," she commanded, her tone unwavering. "A letter from the Lady of Storm's End, swearing our allegiance to the true sovereign of Westeros."

How curious. Her father's charred corpse had scarcely cooled, but here she was already prepared to take his place. Daenys had to admit she was impressed.

"And in return," Cassandra continued, her meaning clear in her piercing gaze, "we hope that as our ally, the queen will support our house in its future endeavours against our enemies."

Daenys nodded in understanding, "Then I leave House Baratheon in your capable hands, my lady."

"I hope that you will return to visit...often...to commemorate our new alliance."

"Perhaps."

"That will have to do for now, I suppose. Thank you, and farewell."

The lady took the princess's hands in her own, holding on for a few moments before she had to let go.

"Try not to feel too guilty about it, princess. In times of war, extreme measures must be taken for the good of the people. And besides, he was never very good at being a father," she murmured into her ear.

Daenys was unsure if she truly deserved Cassandra's gratitude or her words of assurance, and they did little to put her at ease, but she accepted it nonetheless. What else was there to do? Her guilt would not absolve her. What was done was done.

As Daenys flew back to Dragonstone, she took several gulps of the Grand Maester's tonic, exhaling sharply as her wound throbbed anew. She thought this would have made her feel better. That it would fill the ache in her chest where the memory of her brother resided but somehow it had only made it worse. The emptiness became sharper and she wondered if Luke would think her a monster after learning of her actions. Would he have hated her if he had known that she was capable of this? She supposed there was a twisted comfort in not knowing. The fact that her darling little brother would never have to witness her becoming this horrific thing and that he only ever had good memories of her.

She was no longer her mother's little girl, unblemished or whole. The world no longer contained Lucerys Velaryon and she would never again celebrate her name-day, because now it was the day he perished.

Turning nine and ten had never been lonelier.

She was a murderer. She had taken a life. She had killed a man in the courtyard of his own home, but at least she was bringing home a victory, she was bringing her mother Storm's End, and consequences be damned, she would be the scapegoat and bearer of every wicked deed the Blacks would have to commit to win the war.

A/N: likes/reblogs/comments are highly appreciated, would love to hear your thoughts <3

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maria-from-ga · 2 months

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Raven, the Empathetic Sorceress Part 2

In Part 1, I mention how TT03 Raven is an empath like in NTT living off & struggling to control her emotions. Now, I wanted to talk about other powers from NTT Raven also has in the show.

Here's Part 3 that covers TT03's Raven healing, conventional uses of empathy, and her use of magic

(Sources in Pink)

Soul Self, Her Greatest Weapon

In my opinion, there is where the biggest misconception arise.

Like in NTT, Raven's primary "weapon" in battle in Teen Titans (e.g. those dark circles of energy like in the picture above) wasn't magic, but her soul-self.

(1st image: DC Comics Presents #26- Raven 1st appearance and she uses her soul-self to battle the enemy and 2nd image: Teen Titans 4x07 "The Prophecy"- Raven utilize her full soul-self to defeat a Trigon-powered Slade who was threatening her friends)

Raven in TT03 just primarily used pieces of her soul-self. She states explicitly in the 1st season finale she uses pieces of her soul to utilize her powers, thus that her soul is also the basis of her powers

(Teen Titans 1x13: "Car Trouble" - Raven explains that her soul is the basis of powers to Cyborg. As an aside, "I become a part of it & it becomes a part of me" is a beautiful detail of her soul-self powers in the show that I wish to see incorporated in the comics. In TT03, Raven develops this connection w/ all living things she encounters when she uses her soul, an extension of herself)

In Raven's first appearance (as shown in the image from DC Comics Presents #26 above), Raven's soul-self is called an ebony aura, like the black projections she employs in TT03.

Raven's soul-self is because her soul-self & its powers comes from her demon dad, Trigon, and is thus of dark energy.

(Image- New Teen Titans (1980) #29- Raven is tricked by Phobia to see Wally, who she loved and he loved her, as Trigon so she attacks and almost kills Wally with the full strength of her soul-self. Wally describes her soul-self as cold & death. GIF- Teen Titans 1x06 "Nevermore"- Dr. Light pushes Raven too far and Raven unleashes her soul-self & almost kills him. Light shivers because she is so cold and describes her soul-self as near-total darkness)

To be fair, I get this misconception because NTT Raven uses her whole soul-self, not pieces of it.

However, TT03 Raven also uses her full soul-self. It just usually require more focus/power from her.

(Teen Titans 3x05- Haunted - Raven access more of her powers by uttering Azarath Metrion Zinthos to use her whole soul-self to find Robin)

There are several other instances in Teen Titans where Raven uses her whole soul-self:

(Teen Titans 1x01- Final Exam - Raven uses her whole soul-self to teleport Jinx to the top of Titans tower to the final confrontation. Jinx shivers from being in the soul-self because she experienced the cold, dark aura of Raven's soul)

Collection of other instances (non-exhaustive):

(1st Row: 1) Teen Titans 4x03 "Birthmark" - Using her soul-self to escape Slade chasing her. 2) Teen Titans 4x07 "The Prophecy"- Using Her Soul-Self to travel to Azarath, which is in another dimension. 2nd Row: 3) Teen Titans 4x07 "The Prophecy" - Confronted Slade about what he wanted to get him to stop attacking her friends. 4) Teen Titans 2x01 "How Long Is Forever" - Teleports to the final battle against Warp. 3rd Row: 5) Teen Titans 2x05 "Fear Itself" - Absorbs the manifestation of her fears back into her soul-self and regain of her soul-self. 6) Teen Titans 4x03 "Birthmark"- Slade taunts her to release her full soul-self to bring about the prophecy)

It's more rare in the NTT & TT03, but Raven's astral form, her soul-self, can also take the shape of her body

(1st image: NTT (1980) #8- Raven's astral form resembles her body as her soul is desperately trying to reconnect to her body; 2nd image: Teen Titans 4x11 "The End Part 1"- Raven mediates to use her astral human form to end the fight against Plasmus 3rd image: Teen Titans 5x12 "Titans Together" - Raven uses her astral human form to escape the dimension trap Psimon tried to put her in)

Raven's Soul-Self in both the show & comics is like a Swiss Army Knife:

Beyond the general utility of getting her out of tricky situations:

(NTT #8- Raven uses her soul-self to escape from Green Lantern's cage)

(Teen Titans 2x05 "Fear Itself" - Use her soul-self to escape from the elastic tapes of Control Freak)

1. Soul Self can also capture people within itself:

Either to save:

(1st image: NTT (1980) #21- Raven uses her soul-self to save an unconscious Starfire after an bomb exploded. 2nd image: NTT (1980) #17- Raven uses her soul-self to save Cyborg from Francis Kane going out of control.)

("The End Part 1"- In the fight against Plasmus, Plasmus hits Robin and Raven envelops Robin in her soul-self to save Robin from a deadly fall)

Or to harm (as NTT Wally & TT03 Dr. Light can certainly attest):

(Image: NTT (1980) #21 - Raven uses her soul-self to envelope and incapacitate criminals who planted bombs in a baseball stadium; GIF: The Prophecy - Raven uses the full extent of her soul-self to seriously attack and harm a Trigon-empowered Slade after he tried to kill her fellow Titans)

2. Cover Great Physical Distances Fairly Quickly:

(Image: NTT (1980) #9 - After her fellow Titans were taken over by the Puppeteer, Raven uses her soul-self to quickly cover from NYC to Blue Valley, Nebraska to get Wally's (Kid Flash) help; 1st GIF: Teen Titans 3x01 "Deception" - After defeating Brother Blood at H.I.V.E. Academy, Robin asks Raven to help the Titans quickly escape the crumbling school and travel back home. Raven does so by enveloping the Titans in her soul-self; 2nd GIF: "Birthmark" - To herself and Robin to escape Deathstroke, Raven uses her soul-self to travel far away from Slade)

3. A Defense & Shield Against Enemy Attacks

(Image: NTT (1980) #17 - As Francis Kane, a friend of the Titans, is taken over by Dr. Polaris and starts to manipulate and throw around heavy metal objects. Raven uses her soul-self as a shield to absorb the heavy metal objects so they don't hurt innocents. GIF: Teen Titans 3x08 "Wavelength"- Raven uses her soul-self energy to shield attacks from H.I.V.E soldiers)

4. And of course: Telekinesis

(Image: NTT (1980) #8 - Raven uses her soul-self to carry away bombs from a school before they kill a bunch of students and teachers. GIF: Teen Titans 1x02 "Divide and Conquer"- Raven uses her soul-self to carry a bunch of metal canisters to attack Plasmus)

Aside: Energy Projections

In NTT, it was more rare but Raven did employ energy projections from her soul self

(Tales of Teen Titans #46 - Raven, enraged, lose controls and Trigon takes over, so she releases energy projections that incapacitates and nearly kills HIVE soldiers and Aqualad)

In the comics, this was usually occur when Raven was close to losing control to Trigon, so it can be rare to see from Raven. But in TT03, again tied to Raven being able to use pieces of her soul-self, she has more control over her soul energy and can release these energy projections more frequently.

(Teen Titans 5x07 "Hide and Seek" - Raven releasing her energy projections of her soul-self to blast Monsieur Mallah away from the kids she is watching over)

Therefore Raven's soul-self act very similarly in TT03 and NTT comic, just that TT03 Raven has more control and creativity in some of its utilizations, including:

Teleportation

Raven's primary mode of transportation in NTT was teleportation (don't tell her you call it that though lol)

(1st image: NTT (1980) #14 - Raven teleporting to the epicenter of an earthquake that Brotherhood of Evil arriving there faster than Wally West; 2nd image: NTT (1980) #28 - Raven explaining to Wally that she doesn't teleport but travel between dimensions* and that Beast Boy is being overdramatic so she is not teleporting to him**)

However, most people remember Raven flying in TT03, not teleporting:

( "Hide and Seek" - Raven flying around a monastery to find the kids she was watching over after she realized Mallah had found out where the kids were hiding)

Pure speculation, but I wouldn't be surprised if TT03 made flying Raven's most common mode of transportation similar to 1940s Fleischer Superman cartoons did so for Superman*** - flying's easier to animate

But this doesn't mean Raven never teleported in TT03, she actually did teleport quite frequently:

Be it in a form of a raven closer to the comics:

(1st GIF: "Fear Itself"? - Full disclosure I didn't make this gif so I am not sure of the exact episode it came from, but I believe it is from "Fear Itself" where Raven was teleporting across the tower to see where Cyborg was taken to after he was kidnapped; 2nd GIF: "Calling All Titans"- Raven uses her soul-self to travel to the dimension where Herald, an Honorary Titan, resides and tries to find him)

Or more frequently in simpler forms like circles (again likely again due being easier to animate) :

(1st GIF: a) 1st scene is Teen Titans 3x03 "Betrothed"- Raven teleports using circular forms of her soul energy to investigate why Blackfire is forcing Starfire to get marry and hides when Blackfire approaches. b) 2nd scene is Teen Titans 3x04 "Crash" - Raven teleports in a circle to stop Gizmo from leaving to force him to help Cyborg . 3rd scene is Teen Titans 3x09 "The Beast Within" - Raven teleports away in an oval shape of her soul energy to escape Adonis who is pinning her down and being creepy. 2nd GIF: a) 1st scene is Wavelength- Raven teleports in a circle to leave her room after Aqualad trips the tower's alarm. b) 2nd scene is Teen Titans 5x12 "Titans Together" - Raven teleports into Brotherhood of Evil's secret lair with the kids she was watching c) 3rd scene is Divide and Conquer- Raven closes the prison doors and teleports through the prison door to tell the prisoners that they aren't escaping)

As as aside, in TT03, there was no smoke with the teleportation like the comics but again I wouldn't be surprised if it was again just a decision to make animation easier.

As mentioned in the NTT #21 image above with she attacks the bombers, Raven's Soul Self is powerful, deadly, yet ill-defined, so there's potential for a lot of creativity with her soul-self powers.

Now of course, TT03 Raven doesn't use her soul-self exactly as NTT Raven. Aside from being able to use pieces of her soul, a prominent example is how Raven doesn't use her soul-self to knock people out unconscious in the show as often as NTT Raven did (but TT03 Raven has utilized her soul-self that way)****. TT03 Raven also has much greater control & creativity over telekinesis and soul energy projections than NTT Raven did.

But it's clear that TT03 Raven's soul-self is clearly modeled after, and very similar to, NTT Raven's soul-self while using the inherent creativity in power utilization her soul-self possesses.

Raven is the most powerful Titan and the one with the most diverse skill set, so there's still one more part about her TT03 powers lmao. And honestly it might be my favorite part because it is about Raven was also a healer like in NTT, her empathy in TT03 & how she was the most understanding Titan because of that empathy, and the misconception about her TT03 magic, which is in line w/ NTT. But I ran over the image limit again lol, so here's Part 3!

Asterisks:

*Raven's teleportation really being inter-dimensional travel is what she was referring to in Tales of the New Teen Titans #2 image in Part 1 where Young Raven spent time learning the secrets of inter-dimensional travel

**NTT Raven being rude about Beast Boy might be surprising, NTT Raven can be a bit of grouch (sounds like someone we know lol? Maybe I will do a post about how the personality of TT03 Raven is a modernization of NTT Raven)

***Trivia: Fleischer Superman cartoons canonized flying for Superman, who before the cartoons couldn't fly, only "able to leap tall buildings in a single bound!"

****in Part 3

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hiddentrails7 · 6 months

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I gave the BG3 origin characters Pokémon teams and put way too much thought into it, so I thought I'd share my nerdish thoughts. Maybe I'll do non-origin characters at some point, but eh, we'll see.

Oh, and there's some spoilers for the character stories, so read at your own risk.

(Teams under the cut!)

Lae'zel

(I couldn't not use this gif, sorry girlie)

Kommo-o

"When it spots enemies, it threatens them by jingling the scales on its tail. Weak opponents will crack and flee in panic." (Pokémon Sun)

An intimidating, armored warrior, just like Lae! Its shiny also reminds me of her, haha.

Zangoose

"It has feuded with SEVIPER for many generations. Its sharp claws are its biggest weapons." (Pokémon Diamond & Pokémon Pearl)

Just like the Githyanki's fued with Mindflayers, it has a big issue with Seviper's mere existence. They also give the same attitude vibes.

Scizor

"SCIZOR has a body with the hardness of steel. It is not easily fazed by ordinary sorts of attacks. This POKéMON flaps its wings to regulate its body temperature." (Pokémon Ruby & Pokémon Sapphire)

They're both well-armored! It is,, also just her vibe.

Bisharp

This pitiless Pokémon commands a group of Pawniard to hound prey into immobility. It then moves in to finish the prey off." (Pokémon Black 2 & Pokémon White 2)

A hardened warrior, like the rest of the team. It not only plays into the fact that she likes to take charge, but I don't think she'd ever evolve it into Kingambit due to her whole awakening with Vlaakith and learning about the prince in the prism, lmao. She's content with Bisharp.

Falinks

"The six of them work together as one Pokémon. Teamwork is also their battle strategy, and they constantly change their formation as they fight." (Pokémon Shield)

The ultimate unit. She doesn't care if they're little guys, they're forces of nature! Not to be trifled with!

Charizard

"CHARIZARD flies around the sky in search of powerful opponents. It breathes fire of such great heat that it melts anything. However, it never turns its fiery breath on any opponent weaker than itself." (Pokémon Ruby & Pokémon Sapphire)

Even if she doesn't agree to become Vlaakith's chosen, she seems like the type to get a dragon herself just to spite Vlaakith.

☆

Shadowheart

(Oh my beloved Shart)

Umbreon

"When exposed to the moon's aura, the rings on its body glow faintly and it gains a mysterious power." (Pokémon Platinum)

It is so she coded. She worships the moon/darkness, no matter what path you go down with her, so Umbreon is perfect!

Absol

"Although it’s said to bring disaster, in actuality, this Pokémon possesses a calm disposition and warns people of any crises that loom." (Pokémon Moon)

Another dark, kind-of moon-esk vibe Pokémon. They also have similar haircuts!

Trevenant

"Trevenant is very kind to Pokémon living in the forest. It doesn't even care if these Pokémon take up residence in the greenery on its head." (Pokémon Violet)

A Pokémon I just think she'd like. I like to think it'd try to protect her from wolves in the forest, but when she came into contact with Sharr for the first time it was only a Phantump.

Hatterene

"This Pokémon can read the emotions of creatures over 30 miles away. The minute it senses hostility, it goes on the attack." (Pokémon Sword, G-Max form)

I think it's a really funny image. Shadowheart wouldn't mind watching with a wine glass in-hand as her Hatterene beats the shit out of someone that won't leave her alone. Its interaction potiental with Astarion is peak.

Mawile

"It chomps with its gaping mouth. Its huge jaws are actually steel horns that have been transformed." (Pokémon HeartGold & Pokémon SoulSilver)

Has her vibes. Good for both versions of her. Has her ponytail (kind of). Makes sense to me!

Zoroark

"Each has the ability to fool a large group of people simultaneously. They protect their lair with illusory scenery." (Pokémon White)

While kind of leaning toward Sharr, it works for Selune as well! Shadowheart is also naturally a Trickster Domain Cleric, so a Pokémon known for tricks is great!

☆

Astarion

(My personal favorite character. I love him. He's soggy.)

Hisuian Zoroark

"With its disheveled white fur, it looks like an embodiment of death. Heedless of its own safety, Zoroark attacks its nemeses with a bitter energy so intense, it lacerates Zoroark’s own body." (Pokémon Legends Arceus)

Its a very Astarion Pokémon. It not only has wonderful hair, just like him, the entry above sounds a bit too similar to the start of the Cazador fight... heh.

Gliscor

"It dances silently through the sky. When it approaches prey, it can land a critical hit in an instant." (Pokémon Black 2 & Pokémon White 2)

Of course, it's vampire coded, and it also just has Astarion's smug, rogueish vibes.

Thievul

"It secretly marks potential targets with a scent. By following the scent, it stalks its targets and steals from them when they least expect it." (Pokémon Sword)

Astarion is a fancy man! Former magistrate! Thievul fits the high-class vibe and, of course, the thief aesthetic.

Froslass

"A Pokémon inhabited by the soul of a woman who died bearing a grudge in the snowy mountains. Legends of Froslass placing deathly curses on misbehaving men send shivers down my spine." (Pokémon Legends Arceus)

I think it'd be funny, if this Pokémon saw Astarion and related. Like. It feels empathy for this poor mf and just kinda sticks around. It REALLY wants to kill Cazador, but doesn't for Astarion's sake. It's cute.

Crobat

"The transformation of its legs into wings made it better at flying, but more clumsy at walking." (Pokémon Platinum)

Ugh the thought of Astarion befriending a Zubat in Cazador's palace and getting it to evolve via friendship is so nice. Also another vampire-esk mon.

Liepard

"Their beautiful form comes from the muscles they have developed. They run silently in the night." (Pokémon Black 2 & Pokèmon White 2)

It's him. As a purple and yellow cat. What do you want me to say.

☆

Gale

(My favorite boot-eater)

Alakazam

"While it has strong psychic abilities and high intelligence, an ALAKAZAM's muscles are very weak. It uses psychic power to move its body." (Pokémon Emerald)

Okay, Mr. 45 Defense 135 Special Attack. The og wizard Pokémon. Of course Gale has one.

Meowscarada

"This Pokémon uses the reflective fur lining its cape to camouflage the stem of its flower, creating the illusion that the flower is floating." (Pokémon Scarlet)

While, yes, it's a Magician, not a Wizard, I still think it works. Gale has a sassier side, which I thoroughly enjoy, and it reminds me of Tara in a weird way.

Delphox

"Using psychic power, it generates a fiery vortex of 5,400 degrees Fahrenheit, incinerating foes swept into this whirl of flame." (Pokémon Y)

Literally a wizard. Gale would love a little Fennakin.

...also, uh, Fireball.

Ditto

"With its astonishing capacity for metamorphosis, it can get along with anything. It does not get along well with its fellow Ditto." (Pokémon Moon)

Gale loves his duplicates: no need for spell slots if you have a Ditto!

...unless he needs Ditto to speak, of course, but Ditto can probably write instead!

Meowstic (Male)

"When in danger, it raises its ears and releases enough psychic power to grind a 10-ton truck into dust."

Another lovely Psychic type! It's also cat-shaped so that's a bonus for Gale. Simply a little guy.

Chandelure

"This Pokémon haunts dilapidated mansions. It sways its arms to hypnotize opponents with the ominous dancing of its flames." (Pokémon Sword)

I wanted a magic item reference, and I think he'd think it's cool! There's quite a few myths surrounding it.

☆

Wyll

(My first romance. He has a special lil place in my heart.)

Gallade

"A master of courtesy and swordsmanship, it fights using extending swords on its elbows." (Pokémon Diamond & Pokémon Pearl)

THE BLADE OF FRONTIERS—

Aegislash

"Apparently, it can detect innate qualities of leadership. According to legend, whoever it recognizes is destined to become king." (Pokémon Y)

THE BLADE OF FRONTIERS PART 2—

Oh, and I also think he got his from his father.

Corviknight

"This Pokémon reigns supreme in the skies of the Galar region. The black luster of its steel body could drive terror into the heart of any foe." (Pokémon Sword)

Haha. Ravengard. Get it.

It's also another knight aesthetic. Yippee.

Sirfetch'd

"Only Farfetch'd that have survived many battles can attain this evolution. When this Pokémon's leek withers, it will retire from combat." (Pokémon Sword)

Oh, another knight! What do you know.

...Blade of Frontiers part 3.

Lucario

"Not only does it perceive auras, but it has also gained the power to control them. It employs them in battle." (Pokémon Sun)

It's very him coded. I also really like the jokes where people compare him to a puppy. Lucario is a bipedal puppy.

The thought of a younger Wyll with a Riolu also brings me joy.

Ceruledge

"The fiery blades on its arms burn fiercely with the lingering resentment of a sword wielder who fell before accomplishing their goal." (Pokémon Scarlet)

Ah, finally. The Warlock pact Pokémon. It really fits him after getting his pact, imo. I like to think Mizora didn't give him a chance to evolve it into Armarouge instead, which upset Wyll at first, but he gets attached to Ceruledge. It's still his, after all.

☆

Karlach

(My favorite female character! She brings me such joy)

Emboar

"It can throw a fire punch by setting its fists on fire with its fiery chin. It cares deeply about its friends." (Pokémon Black)

She'd love this fucker, especially as a Tepig! They're both bulky as shit and deserve the world.

Haxorus

"While usually kindhearted, it can be terrifying if angered. Tusks that can slice through steel beams are how Haxorus deals with its adversaries." (Pokémon Shield)

Haha big axe. Haxorus is just very Barbarian coded.

...Also Karlach with an Axew <3.

Tinkaton

"The hammer tops 220 pounds, yet it gets swung around easily by Tinkaton as it steals whatever it pleases and carries its plunder back home." (Pokémon Violet)

Another big-weapon Pokémon, but I think she'd also just think it's silly.

Imagine Wyll meeting her with this little menace, since he has a Corviknight.

(Yes, I might've done that on purpose)

Arcanine

"Arcanine is known for its high speed. It is said to be capable of running over 6,200 miles in a single day and night. The fire that blazes wildly within this Pokémon's body is its source of power." (Pokémon Omega Ruby & Pokémon Alpha Sapphire)

Loyal fire puppy. Essentially Karlach.

Bewear

"This Pokémon has the habit of hugging its companions. Many Trainers have left this world after their spines were squashed by its hug." (Pokémon Moon)

THEY CAN TAKE EACHOTHER'S BACKBREAKING HUGS. THEY DESERVE EACHOTHER.

I also just really had a fun time running Bear-Rage Barbarian Karlach.

Darmanitan

"Its internal fire burns at 2,500° F, making enough power that it can destroy a dump truck with one punch." (Pokémon Black)

A very Karlach mon, in my opinion. She appreciates how angry it can be. She is also quite angry.

#balders gate 3 #bg3 #spoilers #pokémon au #pokémon crossover #i spent way too much time on this #lae'zel #shadowheart #astarion ancunin #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #wyll ravengard #karlach #i often question my mental health

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heybrownieboy · 4 months

Text

CHAPTER THREE: WAS THIS ONE POINTY?

POV: Written. 2nd Person.

— Word Count: 1,196.

Author’s Note: My first written part :) If there’s any grammar or spelling mistakes, I am sorry. I don’t have a beta reader so I might miss things while proofreading.

Achoo!

You groaned, pulling your face out of the elbow you just sneezed into and sniffled a little.

“Someone’s talking about me,” you mumbled.

Nicholas and you sat outside in JYP University's main courtyard. It was one of the nicest days there's been this year. The sky was a clear blue, only a few fluffy white clouds could be seen and the sun was high overhead, casting warm rays down on everyone below. The two of you had been lucky enough to snag one of the few benches under the courtyard's massive weeping willow. It offered the perfect amount of shade from the sun and much to your pleasure, a great view of the gorgeous three tier marble fountain that sat directly in the middle of the courtyard.

“We’re outside in the middle of Spring,” Nicholas chuckled. “You sure it’s not just the pollen? Or is this another one of your 'psychic intuition’ moments?”

You pouted a little. "It better be my psychic intuition. I don't feel like sneezing all damn day."

You adjusted the chain of the cross necklace that hung around your neck. It had just been returned to you, not even fifteen minutes prior to this. Earlier you had offered it to Nicholas when you meet up with him outside the chem lab's bathroom. The taller man took it with a grateful look, proceeding to then mutter something about having to "incorporate one into every outfit from now on" if he was going to continue to be your "emotional support bitch". That had caused you to break into a fit of laughter and you thanked him for his "services".

Nicholas laughed. "Maybe someone is talking about you then," he said. "Maybe someone walked past the bathroom earlier and heard you threatening someone with holy water. They're probably gossiping about you to their friends right now."

"The only reason I had to pull out the holy water was because that thing didn't want to leave!" you protested. "It just stayed in the vent staring at me. And then got angry when I pulled out the vile! You felt how hot it got in there. It left like some pissed off little kid that didn't get its way."

"It did get hot as fuck in there for a moment," Nicholas agreed. "Was this one pointy?"

An image of the entity you saw earlier popped into your head. You grimaced. "Yeah," you said. "It was just tall and... sharp, like a lot of them are."

"Why was it here anyway? I thought demons don't come out in broad daylight?"

"I mean, they definitely prefer the night. But, just because the sun is out doesn't mean they're powerless. Plus, Lily and the others were definitely on to something earlier. It was probably here to attach to someone."

"A university does seem like the perfect hunting ground for those things," Nicholas said. He took a sip of his iced Americano. "Jake was one lucky bastard that it didn't choose him.”

"Nah," you said with a wave of your hand. "That guy radiates nothing but good energy. He has a pretty strong aura and a sound mind. So, it'd actually be harder for it to attach to him."

"Okay yeah that makes sense..."

You swirled around your iced latte mindlessly as you listened to Nicholas talk. But, soon you noticed how quiet it went. How quiet nature went. The light breeze that had been blowing over campus a moment ago, stopped and all of the birds in the area had gone completely silent.

That's when you felt it. Your whole body went rigid and your eyes peeled away from Nicholas. His voice began to drain in the background as you looked for whatever you had just felt.

Then, as soon as the fountain came back into view is when you saw him.

The man stood in front of the fountain, facing you and Nicholas. He completely ignored all of the other people moving around him, his blood shot black eyes locked in on you. He had a strong build and beautiful, almost cat-like features. The blue plaid pajama set he wore was practically in shambles— torn up, covered in mud, and splotches of blood. His whole body was littered in cuts, bruises, and bumps. The deep gash that wrapped around his neck made you wince. It was ragged, dripping puss from infection, and surrounded by a large, splotchy purple bruise. It made you wonder if he was strangled to death by a rope of some sort.

But, as you fully took him in, that is when you noticed them. Chains. Each one of his wrists and ankles had thick chains and all four of them were connected to massive iron balls at the ends.

What the hell?

What kind of spiritual debt does he have to warrant every one of his limbs to be chained down?

Your eyes connected with his and you could almost feel the dominance. His stare was just as intense as the heavy aura rolling off him. You immediately sat up a straighter, the feeling of intimidation hitting you head on.

He is human... right?

Wait...

Why does he look so familiar?

"Y/N? Yo! Earth to Y/N!"

Your eyes snapped towards Nicholas, slightly alarmed. He tilted his head at you, a look of confusion scrawled across his face.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

You blinked at him a few times, feeling almost like you were in a daze.

"Y/N? What did you see?" Worry laced his voice now and he shifted closer to you on the bench.

You stayed silent though, your eyes slowly traveling back over to the fountain.

"He's gone," you muttered.

"He's gone?" Nicholas questioned.

"A man. He was standing at the fountain, staring at me..." You trailed off, eyebrows drawing together.

Why?

Why did he look so familiar?

Nicholas's eyes scanned over your face. “Y/N...” he said, reaching out and placing his hand on yours. “Are you okay? You look and sound really out of it.”

He was right. You did feel out of it. Something about that man threw you completely off kilter. It didn’t help that his aura was so… dominating. So intimidating.

“I’m okay,” you said. “I feel a little out of it, yes, but I’m okay. He had a really strong aura, that’s all.”

"Was he human?" Nicholas asked, warily.

"I don't know. Maybe?"

You clicked your tongue in mild frustration.

Why can't I remember who he is?

Think Y/N, you chided yourself silently. Think! Where have you seen him before?

Suddenly, a flurry of memories popped into your head— dozens of past news segments, reporting on two missing people and flyers stamped on every corner around the city.

"Oh my god," you breathed, a cold chill running down your spine.

Slowly, you turned back to Nicholas, your eyes wide and pupils blown. He tensed immediately at your expression, his hand beginning to grip yours.

"Nico," you said, voice grim. "It was one of them. It was one of the men that disappeared last year."

Nicholas stared at you in shock. “What?” he croaked. “Which one?”

“The older one. Lee Minho.”

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