#warriors: starry destinies

[yandere-wishes]

｡⸝❀Desert Rose ❀⸜｡

𐙚 Yandere! Paul Muad'Dib Atreides x Reader x Yandere! Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Plot: You miss the desert. Miss the sun and the sand and the place where they buried your heart. So you run and pray that they won't catch you. 

⁀➷Warnings: Yandere behavior, obsessive tendencies blood and gore, bloodplay, knifeplay, injuries, Feyd being Feyd. Paul is high on spice for 60% of the story. Part two will be much more fluffy. 

The thing they don't tell you about the desert is that it's alive. A breathing creature with feelings and a beating heart.~💜

There's blood on the Sietch floor, red and thick and sacrilegious. 

You thought you had run far enough, fast enough. You thought you had escaped. 

How terrifying it is to be betrayed by that which you love most. How terrifying it is when you've forgotten how to harmonize with that which love most. 

That applies to the desert.

That applies to people too. 

There's something about the sun that's never been more poetic. It's harsh in its lashes, a cruel master, reminding you of what you'd been born into. It beats down something terrible and you can't help but suppress the frantic giggle that escapes your dry lips."You're so mean" you mumble, the glimmers muddle your focus. You see silhouettes of blue-eyed warlords and tar-painted gladiators. Feel phantom kisses rummage across the hollow of your bones. 

All of this is too familiar.

It makes you sick. 

Back then your father had reveled in Muad'Dib's coming. Proud to meet a warrior such as he. He'd spent hours refining his war plans, polishing his battle tactics. It's always such a strange site to see excitement in such a strict man. 

He introduced himself as destiny's child when he arrived. Dissolved and dehydrated with curls coated in sand. He was the desert's golden boy sent to fulfill every prophecy you'd ever been told. 

And yet, to you, he'd simply looked like just another heartthrob.

Just another boy's name to whisper to your friends during blasphemous games under the starry night sky. He had been no different than any tribal leader or warrior's son. That was truly such a miraculous time, back when such an atrocious thing had been merely a girlhood toy. 

Your father hadn't proposed marriage or alliances. That's not the Freman way, not during war. That doesn't stop the renegade gaze you've felt since he arrived. There's something stalking the desert, something too powerful to contain. You feel its chill, like the space between breaths before the breaching of the shai hulud. 

"You can call me Paul..." 

Lisan Al Gaib

The desert is a cacophony of dreams and nightmares. Deadly once the blood-deep navigation atrophies from constant complacency. You try to remember the prom of each foot. When to straighten, when to bend. Each step feels like treading through a mirage, murky and viscous. Too thick, too loose, you think you might sink. Fall through a false bottom into something great and endless. 

There is no bottom, no end. 

Only darkness, vast and perpetual. 

You wonder if that's what it feels like to be swallowed by a sandworm. If there is security in its infinite stomach. If it's better than the Arrakeen Palace. Daunting, soulless structure, home to monsters and killers. 

The sand grows thin. 

It's always the thinnest nearest a Sietch.

You made it...

You wonder why it had all felt so gruesome, so unholy. Paul's cacoon of naivety was breached, its remnants nesting underneath his feet, their spines snapping with each ground-quaking step he took. Arrakis had given birth to something monstrous, something ravenous. Yet all you had seen was a youthful face that tells not of horrors or suffering. It only promises freedom. 

Freedom was supposed to taste sweet, satisfying. The first sip from a childhood oasis. And you guess it had, for a little while. Before the realizations set in. Anyone who so openly grants freedom can take it away too. 

Paul inhales the reverence of the crowd. Savors the saccharine taste of victory on his tongue, before he spits out the essence of his hatred. Watching the blood scorch away under the desert sun. 

He swears he sees the sand dunes bow from the corner of his eye, they're towering magnificently bestowing something lethal onto him. Something they've yearned for, something fragile, something ancient. He deems it responsibility, duty, divinity and spins it into an enamelware crown.

Paul had become king. Not emperor, not sovereign, not overlord. Not yet at least. He's not the boy-prince from a distant planet anymore either. There no longer exists a boyhood carved of temperamental weathers and jagged salt-covered rocks. No more fairy tales of great dukes fighting bulls by the seaside and young princes running off on fighter jets to save mystical witches. There is only the sand and the giants underneath it, only a prophecy cracked whose ichor covers him in gold and stardust. 

He is Muad'Dib, savoir of Dune. 

Paul's eyes rummage through the crowd. Hungry, desperate

seeking out something, someone whose devotion does not show. 

He memorizes the scowl on your face, the dip of your lips. How he longs to feel them under his thumb. 

Duels concluded in death. When the ground has been fed its blood depts. When Jannah and Jahannam are granted another soul. That is when the victor arises. Duels end in death, in a chipped knife and a broken body on the floor. 

This one did not...

The memory still haunts you. 

Not in its breach of rite.

Nor its contradictions to morality.

But in what comes after.

The fear of the thing that was allowed to live...

Paul hadn't killed Feyd. Beaten, mauled, tamed. But not killed.

There is a rostrum made of sand and burnt bones. It was meant to serve as a victory throne, a symbol of a war and a revolt. You aren't so sure about that anymore. Not when it's being desecrated, by a survivor of the very thing it vowed to eradicate. Atop the dias, Paul stands, fingers swathed tightly around a pale, maimed wrist. The crowd stares, speechless as the prophetic son appoints a battered and bleeding Harkonnen Na-baron as his aid, his duke.  

Feyd-Rautha is all jet blacks and blood reds. His eyes hold daggers, impaling anyone who dares to look into them. You can not fathom why Paul, the one who promised a paradise and an end to the Harkonnen oppression would do such a thing. You never thought him holy, you didn't consider him cruel either. 

Paul hands over the spice trade to Feyd. He speaks of concentrated zones away from life. Somewhere deep and forgotten. He says "virtuous" as if it's a sermon only he can comprehend. "We need the funds, we need to rebuild, to fight. The spice is valuable and it will not hinder the awakening of Dune. My cousin will oversee its harvest and trade. The finances will be brought back to Arrakis, back to the Freman."

Maybe it's sorrow, a slithering nuance that won't leave. Maybe it's guilt twice folded and misplaced. Desperation for a kinsmanship

with a family, he had thought all lost. The way he looks at Feyd speaks of hope and trust and everything else a little boy feels when he's dragging his friend by the hand through a forest made of splendor and ideation. But Paul isn't a little boy anymore and Feyd has never been naught save a killer. And you, you can't help but notice how the Muad'dib begins to lose his golden hue. 

The Sietch is cavernous, domed ceiling that expands into the rocks and sandy tiles that stretch as far as the eye can see. Unaltered spice particles dance in the gentle filtered rays of the sun. It feels like home. Like freedom and paradise and everything else those two men had stripped you of. Your body slumps by one of the etched walls. Awaiting your fellow Freman to find you. 

There is a stiffness in the Freman, an elegance that must be mastered. You'd once thought it inherited, a mere bone structure passed on from mother to child. You're not so sure anymore. The stiffness reverberates off the Sietch walls, it's obvious now that it's never been about straight spines and high-held heads. It's the ideals, the loyalties that Fremen carve into their souls. Sooner or later someone will inform the king of where his darling hides. 

All of Arrakis knows who you belong to. 

One of the older women tunnels water down your throat, she cradles your head and shushes you when you try to speak. She spills advice, motherly advice, into your veins. Telling you of how blessed you are to be chosen by the Lisan Al Gaib and his blood. Her embrace is a vice, coddling suffocating and not at all unpleasant. There is a sleek comfort between the witherd silk of her chador. It heartens fatigue residing stubbornly between your bones. It causes your eyes to fade and your mind to race. You forgot the terrors that lay outside, the advancing menace carrying crystalknifes and a voice that shakes worlds. Darkness beckons, a welcomed change. For the first time in months, you feel safe...

You are still a Freman, born of sand and spice. There is a future somewhere with palm trees and rosa persica. You intend to find it, to hold it between your hands running tired fingers over soft cloud-light edges. Arrakis has stood for longer than most planets have existed. You refuse to abandon its fate to a spice addict and a manic.

It's obvious, isn't it?

Maybe it always was...

Arrakeen palace is shaped like a heart, something eternal ungraved. It was young when you first marched through its grand gates. It had felt no less threatening than the sandworms beneath your feet. The spice that flew through the halls was suffocating, a distant, permutated relative of the elixir that had raised you. 

Paul's chancery is something empty, a cut out of Kaahgel masquerading as a citadel of dominance and perspicuity. It, much like the rest of the palace is novice and new. Paul sits in an awkwardly placed plush parlor chair, one retrieved from Caladan no doubt. He squirms in his seat as if his body has too many angles to fit properly in the rounded chair. He's far too accustomed to soft sands and jagged boulders. To sitting cross-legged on something loose and malleable. This luxury is unwelcomed, uncomfortable. You only notice Feyd when his demonic eyes suddenly land on you. He's languidly draped on the carpeted floor. His back half propped up by a quarter-painted wall. He's feeding slices of fruit into his mouth, savering the nick of the knife along his tongue. 

They look so innocent. Sinless, carless little boys playing in a sanctuary fort. Hiding from life and its crushing expectations.

Paul follows his cousin's gaze, he's out of his seat and across the room before you have time to knock. You note the blackness under Paul's eyes, how the synthetic blue feels distant and sunken. Almost as if they're looking at you from meters inside a cave. He's wandering through the twilight of exhaustion. Paradying awakeness like a lost bat caught in the afternoon sun. He's only surviving on artificial energy from the spice he so readily consumes. 

There is an exhilarating lilt in the timber of his voice. A galvanization in the way your name spills from between his lips. "What brings you here?" Paul's fingers dance across your shoulders, gripping them as one does their favorite toy. His eyes hold a fragile reverence, something unstable, denating with the slightest breath. "Lord Usul..." you begin, eyes bouncing between the sandy beiges of the walls. "You don't need to be so formal. Just say my name, like the first time we met." His nails start to dig into your arms, a jovian strength only a divine may possess. You don't remember leaving a deep impression. 

"Paul, I-I need to talk to you about..." Your vision cuts to Feyd, a hidden flare penetrates his legs, you don't dare look the Harkonnen in the eyes. He's far too feral for such raw exhibitions of hate. Yet you want him to feel your abhorrence, your detest. Paul understands, he knows what you're going to say before you've even finished rehearsing in your head. "Feyd doesn't mind, you can talk freely in his presence, I promise you, he won't bite." You swallow the need to argue, to protest, he bites, he definitely bites, and lacerates and kills...

It's easy to fall between the crevices of his voice, to allow the gentle nudges to sway your decisions for you. You wonder if the words coming from your mouth are even truly your own. They had sounded so absolute in your head. So firm. Now they sound dented, feeble, like a child begging to remain awake. You tell the king of how you disapprove of the spice trade, that it should be ceased. Its termination can only benefit the war, hindering the galactical navigation of your enemies. Paul listens with a distracted sort of attendance. His eyes melt into you, tracing your features with a delicate precision. You feel like a map, laid bare, feeding him information. Information he ignores, opting to busy himself with tracing continents and oceans. "Paul please listen" you beg. "Please". You notice an ignited flicker in his eyes, snapping him out of his lucid trance. "You know, since you feel so strongly about...everything. Maybe, maybe you should stay here. With us. Be the queen or duchess or whatever. You can help us rebuild. You can-" 

"What?" Your body jerks back, his fingers don't leave your forearms, pulling you back, closer. "Lord Usual...Paul...what are-" Something slithers between your bones, your skin, your muscles. Pushing past the cracks and sliding inside you. His mind grasps yours, echoing his desire, mapping out its constellation between your crux. 

Paul feels in blues, blues that make up the nuance between worlds. 

The ocean behind the largest dune

The lake beneath the greatest mountain.

The lamination of spice over one's eyes. 

It somehow ends with you. Covered in a color that mimics ambitions and dreams and something practically attainable. 

You feel him reach out, pushing you back into the physical world. Away from the luminous tints and flickering landscapes. 

"I'm saying that everything I do reminds me of you. It's hard not to dedicate every single breath to your memory." Paul's eyes are blown wide, there's a lament carved into his voice. He's pleading, desperate, like trying to chisel rock with a pebble. You don't like where this is going, don't like the mania, the love that's painted so vividly on his face. Your stomach churns, false ecstasy pumping in agonizing doses. This is wrong, you shouldn't feel flattered, gleeful. This isn't a miracle or a blessing. It's a curse, you know this, you have to run to escape. But something in you freezes, a sickly silver of devotion, of habit, a tradition force-fed into your soul keeps your legs stiff and still. 

Devotion is such a slippery thing. Always so close to suffocating. Sometimes all it's good for is a knife that kills. Just a grain of salt in a pulsing wound. 

Your eyes flicker across the room, trying to look at something, anything but him, anything but the Muad'dib who could make you grovel at his feet like a doll without even opening his mouth. It's only in your frantic search for an affix point, that you notice the beast is missing. His dominion left empty. You feel a chill in the room. Something stalking closer, something lethal and rogue. You scream shriveling into Paul's arms as someone grips your waist from behind, encaging you. "You were right cousin, she's as beautiful as you described...and as brave." Your breath hitches, he's touching you. Your body twitches as a cold sweat breaks. "Paul" you plead looking up into his electric blue eyes. He only smiles, contorting his features into something they're not, something soft and arrogant. You see triumph shimmer through his mind. He's won a game you didn't know you were playing. Crowned victor by fate and circumstance and...

and prophecy.

Paul cradles your cheek in his hand, tilting your head up to look at you. 

 "The first time I set eyes upon you, I knew you were the girl in my dreams. The desert rose beckoning me to Arrakis, to Dune. Don't you see, we've been bound by fate?" 

No. 

Feyd slowly licks the shell of your ear, he hums in satisfaction, an action you didn't know could be laced with so much malice. He murmurs something into your jugular, something too violent to decode. 

No.

Please no. 

It's easier to love than to be loved. 

There's a jolt that rings you awake, something violent crawling under your skin. You feel it before you witness it, witness the cold and loneliness not viable in the desert temples. 

The halls scream in silence, 

Hollow, employed out. 

"Hello?" The eerie reverberation of your words leaves you shivering. Scraping along the walls, tumbling into doorless rooms trying to find someone, anyone. You can't remember the last time you'd been alone. 

Utterly alone.

You didn't notice it at first. Didn't notice the unnatural stillness and the deafening silence. there is no life here, but it takes a practically mangled corpse for you to look down at the floor. 

There's blood on the Sietch floor, red and thick and sacrilegious. 

You thought you had run far enough, fast enough. You thought you had escaped. You turn and you run, back from that which you came, feet thundering across the sand-dusted floor. You don't know where you're going, why even run? Helplessness swells inside you, coiling in intricate knots. Only to snap violently when you cross the third threshold. 

The corpses lie at his feet. your frenzied brain tries to count them, only going up to eight before it forgets what comes after. There is more, more bodies, more blood...more bones? But you can't focus on anything else except the glabrous man standing over them, knife pointed downwards, dripping into an endless sea of red. 

Your father used to tell you tales of rivers made of blood. Of mad men claiming divine crusades as they fed bodies into the endless stream. 

You never thought you'd witness it.

It shouldn't feel as conflicting as it does. 

"Darling..." Feyd's voice is gravel on gravel. Rough and coursed. It grinds against your skin reawakening every half-healed scar. 

"no, dear maker, please no" Feyd's gaze rakes over you, lingering on every detail. Toying and probing, much like a predator sizing up its frightened prey. "I missed you" his voice is purely threatening, mocking, he wants you back, needs you back. You can't be forgiven for this deliberate offense.

You try to bolt passed him, it's like a gallon of adrenaline has been shot straight into your chest. There's a scream in the air, you're not sure who it belongs to. you make it to the hallway leading to the contraction arena. Where the bearers of the water of life are nursed. You can see the stone-carved stairs and someone sitting there...

The ground slips beneath your feet, the red liquid having leaked under your soles. In the next breath, you're plunging into redness, shrouded and engulfed and bathed in the blood of your own kind. It feels warm and safe and disgusting. Like watching the stars of your favorite constellation collapse within themselves. It's a destructive kind of comfort, one that only ends in pain and bruises and fractured bones in places you can never wholly identify.

You're drowning, 

the more you thrash the harder it gets to stand. 

You feel the blood entangling you, weaving around your body like a net. 

and then like a shadow, he's over you. 

Looming with the promise of pain, of the misery of the savagery only he can offer.

"Feyd..." his name is razorblades upon your tongue. Your eyes catch his, distant voids colliding. Since when did you start looking into his eyes? When did the torture become worth it? His fingers ensnare your jaw, pushing cheeks and bones together. Feyd straddles your body, knees splashing into the blood. He tugs your head forward violently, before pounding it onto the floor. You moan out in pain a mangled, distorted noise. He only chuckles. Before repeating the motion. "You ran from us, you left us. I should kill you here and now. Bleed you out with the rest of these traitors!" it's hard not to notice the pain his voice harbors, odd how even a monster like Feyd can have his feelings hurt. He lifts his knife, wrapping both hands around the handle before plunging it into your abdomen. You choke, on a shriveled scream or a throat filled with blood you do not know. The colors are dulling and pulsating, somehow too dark and too bright at the same time. Everything feels like it's made of flowing water. Precious streaming water. You can feel the throbbing at the back of your skull, you feel the giddy patter of your heart, and the nervous ticks of your hips under Feyd. 

Feyd...

Has he always been so beautiful?

Your body feels so hot and your mind feels so distant. 

Everything feeds into his endless beauty. 

Why are your lips pulsing? 

your teeth sink in, trying to still the need to kiss. 

"What's wrong princess, trying to play innocent? I know your tricks."

Feyd traces your lips with his. Fingers snake into your hair, pulling at odd intervals. "my sweet stupid little girl" he whispers, a curse and a blessing. He sucks on your bottom lip biting it harshly. Slipping his tongue between your teeth. His kiss is possessive, and swallowing. You feel yourself sinking deeper, wanting him to consume you whole. When he pulls back you feel like you can't breathe, you only existed within his kiss. It's the last thing binding you to this world. 

But then his head dips down. Leaving open-mouthed kisses upon the gushing injury. Feyd drinks deeply from your open wound, ravaging the blood and pushing in silver of a forgotten moonlight. The way his tongue laps at the gaping hole and torn ligament sends a shutter up your spin. When he lifts his head again you watch mesmerized by the way your essence drips from his lips. He kisses you again ferocious and deep and all conusiming. 

You feel so lost and so found.

Grounded and afloat. 

It's only when a scream, a familiar one, in a distance distorted sort of way, rings across the hall that you start to pull away. You push yourself up, palms slipping on the liquid life. From behind Feyd, you notice a man and a women. Young, scared. There is revulse in their blue eyes, yet you can't navigate its direction. You're sure if you weren't bleeding out you could identify them, you're sure you knew them in this lifetime. You hear the blood gushing, hear the crisp whistle of the blade as it slices through flesh. 

Once

Twice. 

Only then does the alluring migraine sober. The metallic tang of blood wafting through the air makes you sick. It's odd how the repugnant scent had alluded you until now.  Even if you'd been lying right in it. You wonder if such a scent would bother them. You doubt it, they tend to revel in the red glory and its hypnotizing associations. 

"Took you long enough, cousin" Feyd's head is turned watching as Paul steps past the corpses. His eyes are vibrant, a sapphire blue that cuts through time and space. He kneels next to you, gaze devouring you in your pitiful state. "why did you run?" he is cold, hurt. His blue eyes betray a degree of relief hidden by a defrauding glower. "I-we love you, you mean everything to us." You look away too exhausted to put up an argument. "I missed being home." You mumble. You swore for a minute something akin to comprehension ripples through the air. You're too delusional to believe in anything solid anymore. But maybe Paul understands, maybe he yearns for the desert too. Maybe he'll go easy on you...

Paul's fingers glide across your stomach, scattering the dust particles that have landed on your still form. The light from the high windows glimmers off the three of you painting something holy, something right, in another world, in another lifetime. When he sees the wound Feyd created he chuckles. " Stars Feyd, at least try to keep her alive." Paul's nails gently rack across the torn ligament, idly playing with the loose skin. Feyd laughs deep and psychotic -is it wrong to say you missed it?- "I couldn't help myself, you should have seen her. Eyes blown wide covered in blood. Stars I just want-" you interrupt him with a low moan. Paul rubs his calloused thumb over your wound, soothing the cut before he presses down. Hard.  

 when he hears the moan he presses harder. Making you wither and hiss. "This is a punishment, (y/n), you're not supposed to be enjoying it." His fingers slither into the open wound, stretching out the ligament " You jolt and holler and cry, begging him to stop. "You're my oasis, the only thing I love in this world. But you ran. YOU LEFT US." His words glitch and crack, the voice shining through penetrating you with a knife seeped in guilt. "I'm sorry." you choke out, only to be rewarded by another harsh cut from Feyd's knife. "I'm the daughter of the desert..." you protest, tears slipping past your hooded eyes. "You're our lover" Feyd barks defensively, aggravated. When the tears begin to leak the pain stops. "Don't waste your water" Paul mutters, wiping away a tear and sucking it between his lips savoring your delicate taste. 

Paul cradles your bleeding head in his lap, lowering his to kiss your crimson-soaked lips, "I love you" he mumbles against you, trying to press the core of his words into you. Making you feel him, making you believe. Feyd tucks your hair out of your face. Slowly pulling you up by your shoulders. The thin smile he offers is such a rare sight it makes your heart explode.

Why did you run away?

Why did you leave the ones you love most?

Your heart is laying on a bed of nails.

Somehow that feels fitting. 

Feyd pulls off the top of his stillsuit, discarding the armor-like pieces. Slowly he lays in the gore, he pulls you over him. His motions slow, mesmeric. You follow just another wave trapped in the current. You're so torn and hurt, broken in ways that can never properly heal. You let it happen, it's easier this way. Slowly he licks his blade clean of your blood, he grabs your wrist places the hilt in your hands, and tucks your fingers over it. "Hold on tight," he advises as he draws your hand back and brings the knife down between his defined muscles. The moan he lets out is profane, it makes you feel euphoric, filled to the brim with the merriment of guilt. Feyd kisses you again, his tongue pushes past your teeth, his conquest of you feels Harkonnen in every way. His tongue down your throat feels like a heavenly bliss. From behind Paul breaks the back of your stillsuit, he licks a strip up and down your spine. You moan into the kiss with Feyd. Slowly Paul starts to whisper firefly kisses into each vertebrae. Sucking melodies into the frail bones. His teeth snick between the cartilage, all scorpion stings, and cobra bites. It feels so right.

Feyd is a cannibalistic star, relishing in the way your wounds bleed into his. He feeds off your pain, feeds off the pain you grant. He's delusional with a cosmic kind of lust. Pulling celestials from their homes to burn into his own body. He loves you, loves how you penetrate him with a knife clad in anathema and adherence too turbulent to understand. 

Paul is, in many ways Feyd's opposite and in many others his equal. The quintessence of the path to hell being paved with good intentions. His kisses are the desert's curse and it's love. He's an entire solar system revolving around the only two people he has left to love. 

Slowly the world grows dark. You feel it hard to remain awake. "Sweet dreams princess" you hear Paul whisper as Feyd shuffles under you. You fall into his expecting arms. Safe and strong. The day has been so long and bootless. so tiring. so vexing. 

Yet somehow, in the endlessness of the moment, it matters all so little. Paul is here and he can hang the stars upon the night sky. Feyd is here and he can slaughter the universe and call it entertainment. You are safe with them, safe and happy and satisfied. 

ngl this is the longest tag list I've ever gotten. THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH!!💜💜 Let me know if you want to be added to future taglists

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Guilty as a sin

This is a scene of Elain inspired by the song 'Guilty as a Sin.' I hope you enjoy it ❤️

Elain stood alone in her room at the townhouse. She often preferred to spend time here for some privacy. The moonlight streamed through the window, casting a glow across her delicate features. Her heart ached, a deep pain that seemed to echo the loneliness of the night. Her thoughts were a mix of desire and doubt, all centered around one person: Azriel.

She leaned against the window frame, her fingers tracing the cool glass as she gazed out into the garden below. The flowers were bathed in shadows, the same garden where she had spent so much time with him, sharing comfortable silences. She often wondered how his rough, dark warrior features contrasted with the garden, yet he seemed to fit perfectly in it. Her mind replayed every stolen glance, every brush of their hands, every moment where their eyes met and spoke a thousand unspoken words. She missed him... missed their little conversations, his understanding, gentleness, and sense of humor that matched hers. She hated how they had just pretended nothing happened that night and how their relationship had become so formal.

Elain shuddered at the memory of that night: the way his eyes had darkened with hunger, the way she couldn't do anything but yield to his touch, the way he had made her body react. Heat spread through her as she recalled the memory. She longed to feel his hands on her skin again. What would have happened if they had kissed? Would they have stopped there or craved more, done more? But did it really matter? It was a mistake, he had said.

She belonged to Lucien. The bond that tied her to him was undeniable, an unbreakable thread by fate itself . What she felt for Azriel, what she wanted to do with him, was wrong. It was unacceptable. It was a sin. She should feel guilty, shouldn't she? What would the others think if they knew she was aroused by another male in the family room while her mate was sleeping upstairs? Shame.

Why? she wondered, her heart aching with anger and sorrow. Was it her fault to be bound to a stranger she had no feelings for by a bond she neither wanted nor asked for? Was she even allowed to cry? It wasn’t fair. She hadn’t chosen Lucien, the Cauldron, or whatever cruel twist of destiny, had decided to bind her to him without her consent. She was a pawn in a game played by forces beyond her control.

"I'm no one's property," she whispered fiercely. "I have the right to fall in love, to give my heart to whom I choose." She looked up at the sky, as if it held the answer, as if someone were witnessing the battle in her mind... the Mother, perhaps.

In a moment, she was in a different place, under a starry night in a field of roses and violets, standing in front of Azriel, who was dressed in one of the suits he wore on special occasions. 'Sorry? You're sorry? It's not about apologizing. I thought you understood me!' she said, her voice breaking. Azriel looked at her with a pleading expression. She couldn’t bear it anymore. 'I didn’t choose it, and it doesn’t define me. I thought you, of all people, would understand that,' she said, frustration filling her voice. 'I want you. I want to be with you. And I thought you wanted the same, but it was a mistake, wasn’t it?'

"Elain, you don't really understand," he said, his voice tight.

"No, you don't understand!" she shot back, stepping closer, her heart racing. "I have spent too long being told what I am and who I should be with. And you..." She shook her head, "You have no right to stand here now and act as if I misunderstood."

He closed his eyes, his jaw clenching as if he felt offended. She turned her back to leave, but then he grabbed her arm and pulled her against him. She gasped at the contact of their bodies, the heat of him sending shivers through her. He looked at her, his gaze so intense she could see the different hues of his eye color under the moonlight. Then he grabbed her jaw, leaned in, and captured her lips in a burning kiss, all the anger and desire, the time they had spent holding back, resisting, poured into the act. It was consuming, almost punishing, but she met him with equal fervor, standing on her tiptoes and holding his neck as she pulled him closer. The kiss was a delicious clash, as if each of them were trying to prove something to the other.

Azriel buried his hand in her hair and pulled it until he broke the kiss, causing her to open her eyes and whimper in protest. 'You think I don’t fight myself every damn day?' he growled. 'You think I don’t dream each night about you, about touching you, holding you? You think I’m not dying each day for not being able to spend time with you, to talk to you like we used to?'

Why can’t you? she wanted to ask, but she couldn’t voice anything at the moment. "You think I wouldn’t fight the world, damn the Cauldron, just for a taste of you?"

"Is that what you want, Elain?" he whispered softly, his breath hot against her mouth, his cedar scent filling her lungs. "To be consumed by this? By us?"

She scanned his eyes, searching for any sign of what he was feeling, she saw a storm of longing and desperation, a deep ache that mirrored her own. There was a a raw intensity that spoke of how much he yearned for her, and a hint of resolve, as if he was finally allowing himself to act on his feelings. "Yes," she breathed, her voice barely audible. She saw a flicker of relief in his eyes before he leaned in and deepened the kiss further, his tongue exploring every inch of her mouth. She arched against him, her breasts pressing into him as his hand gripped and kneaded her ass possessively. Then he pulled up her dress parted her legs, gripping her thighs as he lifted her. She immediately crossed her legs around his waist, careful not to touch his wings.

Gods, she could feel his arousal pressing against her core. She broke the kiss and looked at him, her breath quickening. He smiled at her, his eyes so luminous. At that moment, She was lost in him, she didn’t know where she was or who she was, all she knew was that Azriel was claiming her, and she was gladly surrendering her heart. This was everything she desired, no one else could ever make her feel this way. She only realized she was biting her lip when his teeth replaced hers, and she moaned into his mouth as his tongue soothed the sting. Shadows gathered around them. Would they lay here in the grass, or was he taking her to his bed?

Elain blinked and came back to reality, frustration washing over her. She was alone in her room. Her legs shook with need, her skin felt unbearably hot, and she could feel the silkiness between her thighs. Why did it feel so real? His touch, his scent, the kiss... Was it a vision or a dream? Was she losing her mind? Her fingers tightened around the window frame, her knuckles white with the effort to hold on to her sanity.

"What if I'm just being selfish?" she wondered, guilt stabbing through her. "What if I'm hurting everyone around me by wanting something that isn't mine to have?"

But another thought rose defiantly. "It's my right to choose my own happiness. What if the bond is just a cruel trick, and I deserve to find love where my heart truly lies?" She held her head, trying to concentrate for a moment, then made her decision: If she was doomed to be shackled for the rest of her life to someone she didn’t love, she would at least let herself live the desire consuming her. How could she be guilty as a sin when she wasn't even touching Azriel?

She turned away from the window and crossed the room to her bed. She lay down on her back, closed her eyes, and placed her hand on her throat, gently stroking it with her thumb while recalling how Azriel had done it that night. She remembered exactly how it had felt, never forgetting the way her knees had trembled with desire and how he had easily made her soaking wet. She moved her hand from her neck to her breast, squeezing it until she gasped, imagining it was Azriel instead. She began slowly pulling up her nightgown with the other hand until it reached her stomach, drawing lazy circles around her belly button. She could feel the pressure building in her core as her heels dug into the mattress.

Her hand reached her underwear. She slipped two fingers underneath it and audibly moaned,oh she was ablaze, then rolled onto her stomach. She had never dared to say his name out loud, but here she was, screaming it into her pillow: "Azriel, Azriel, please," she whimpered. She could vividly picture him moving inside her, her hands gripping his arms, her nails digging into his biceps, drowning in his eyes, his glorious wings spread behind him and moving with each thrust. He growled, "Come for me, Love," and waves of pleasure crashed through her as she whispered, "You're mine, Azriel."

He was hers, even if it was only in her mind.

She opened her eyes, breathing heavily and sighing. Her cheeks and chest were flushed. She was still unsatisfied, but deep down, she knew the answer. What if Azriel reciprocated her feelings? What if what she saw earlier was real? Even if it was just a dream, it was a dream that made her feel alive and gave her hope. She had always been a quiet dreamer, hadn’t she? If there was even a small chance that this forbidden love could become a reality, it was certainly worth the risk. Maybe, just maybe, dreams could come true. And if they did, no matter the cost, she would choose him… Religiously.

[dangermousie]

List of completed cdramas I plan to watch/rewatch

I’ve seen a lot of them in whole or in part (tho most so long ago it’s like starting from scratch, also I am terrible at finishing) but I haven’t a bunch, either.

Here is what you might see in this tumblr (it will take me probably two years to get through all of this tbh, also I am sure I am forgetting stuff)

The Advisors Alliance both seasons

As Flowers Fly and Fade Across the Sky

Beauty’s Rival in the Palace

Bichunmu

Big Shot/Da Ren Wu

Bu Bu Jing Xin

Chinese Paladin 1, 3, 5

Cuo Dian Yuan Yang

The Dream of Chang’an

Dugu (both dramas)

Empress of China (I have uncut version with Russian subs)

Gong 1-3 seasons

Female Prime Minister

The Firmament of the Pleiades

The Four

Four Women Conflict

General and I

Glamorous Imperial Concubine

God of War Zhao Yun

The Great Ambition

The Great Shaolin

Handsome Siblings 2005

Ice Fantasy

The Imperial Doctress

The Investiture of the Gods

The King’s Woman

The Lady and the Liar

Lan Ling Wang

The Legend and the Hero

Legend of Banshu

Legend of Condor Heroes 2008

Legend of Fuyao

Legend of Heavenly Tear

The Legend of the Military Seal

Legend of Mulan

The Legend of Qin

Listening Snow Tower

Little Fairy

Longest Day in Chang’an

Lost Love in Times

Love and Destiny

Love and Fight with the Terracotta Warrior

Love Better than Immortality

Love and Redemption

Novoland Eagle Flag

Novoland Tribes and Empires

Orphan of Zhao

Patriot Yue Fei

The Promise

The Promise of Chang’an

Qin Dynasty

Rebel Princess

Red Dust

Return of the Condor Heroes 2006

The Rise of Phoenixes

Rouge Snow

Siege in Fog

Singing All Along

Secret of the Three Kingoms

The Shanghai Bund

Song of the Clouds

Sound of the Desert

Song of Glory

Starry Night Starry Sea (period season)

The Story of Han Dynasty

The Story of Minglan

Three Kingdoms 2010

Too Late to Say I Love You

Under the Power

Untouchable Lovers

Vigilantes in Masks

The Virtuous Queen of Han

Wu Xin

Xuan Yuan Sword

Young Blood

The Young Warriors

Zu Legend

Man, I have enough to cover me until inevitable WW3 starts and we all have to depart for our bunkers.

[etherealiss]

Midnight Whiskey Confessions.

Izogie x Black!OC

Summary: After a hard day of training, Izogie’s daily whiskey indulgence led her to a face-to-face confrontation with her destiny.

Warning: There’s romantic yearning, good old fashioned pining, some whiskey-induced fluff kisses.

Word count: 4.3k

A/N: For all of my Izogie stans, I see you. This is for you. It is a simple addition into the beautiful pond of writing I’ve seen so far in the tag alone. I hope my contribution is enough. The gif credit belongs to filmreel. Enjoy! 😊

Starry nights spent under the Dahomey skies were beautiful. As the stars danced against a dark blue backdrop, the moon cast her milky white light over the entire village. The townsfolk bathed in her wonderful glow, feeling eternally grateful to see her performance up close.

Around this time, the Agojie—Dahomey’s strongest female warrior brigade—had successfully wrapped up another long day of sword combat with its newest recruits.

Izogie, the head teacher of various combat lessons, took great pride in her reputation of sharpening the senses of each new warrior. They were malleable clay in her eyes.

She was General Nanisca’s firm right-hand. Her relentless spirit in the heat of battle would only add to her legacy. Her brute strength in the daily bouts against the male guards were the talk of the village. Many of the trainees aspired to become like her. Every eye in the village square refused any attempts to make eye contact whenever she sauntered past.

There was a rule spreading throughout the town of how commonfolk were expected to act in the presence of an Agojie warrior.

“The king doesn’t allow us to look upon the Agojie.”

Except there was one person who worked on bending that sacred rule.

Deja was part of the kitchen staff stationed inside of the palace walls. As one of the main cooks on duty, her job was albeit a simple one: feed as many Agojie soldiers and trainees until the night ends. After tedious preparation, she would serve the food alongside another member. But on some incredibly rare nights, she would assume the role alone to scoop up servings into bowls like a well-oiled machine.

Tonight was that kind of night.

The line of soldiers wrapped around the small structure stationed out in the open near the dark red clay buildings. Combat practice ended without a hitch as the women’s stomachs touched their spines from hunger. Without missing a beat, Deja scooped up the portions into the offered bowls, casting a quick upward glance in assurance of its contents making it into their hand before looking back down.

She would usually tune out their passing conversations, respecting the sanctity of the sisterhood’s gossip. Though it was the sound of three distinct voices which made her throw several glances in their general direction.

“Ey, you’ve got to admit it! Nanisca has gotten a bit softer towards Nawi since we scared the Oyo with our tribute!” Amenza laughed, pushing her elbow into Nanisca’s left arm.

The general rubbed her temples with nimble fingers, the weight of exhaustion softening her rough exterior. “She was disobeying direct orders of a plan I set forth. She could have gotten herself killed. Or worse.”

Deja’s eyes flitted towards the third individual standing behind Nanisca and awaited her response with bated breath, not realizing the distraction impacted her usual flawless performance.

“I remember when you would toss me, a little trainee, across the ground if I even parted my lips with an objection. Little Tsetse is clearly buzzing her way around into your heart, Nanisca.”

From Izogie’s lips, she emitted tiny buzzing noises and earned the boisterous laughter of the two women in front of her. It was in Deja’s line they would shed the load of their strong demeanor and embraced the softness of each other’s company.

The sharpness of their spears were replaced by the presence of Izogie’s snide jabs at their obvious character flaws. Even Deja found herself giggling quietly at their banter each time they came around.

Deja’s year-long, one-sided crush on Nanisca’s right-hand ailed her spirits. She couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when these feelings came to fruition. Or how astute her senses were when Izogie floated across the palace floor. All she knew was the sound of Izogie’s stern voice delivering a command rattled her entire foundation. The more she would sneak glances at Izogie, the stronger her feelings grew. Her only choice was to lock them away inside of a cold gated prison. Above all else, Deja knew the rule.

“The king doesn’t allow us to look upon the Agojie.”

It haunted her beyond reason.

Deja shook her head twice to regain her focus of the task at hand. These feelings belonged on a high shelf from her mind’s reach. It was a danger to her work. And Izogie could never see her as a romantic prospect. Their worlds were light years away from each other. That was the natural order.

As the line continued moving forward, the three women finally landed in front of Deja’s pot with audible growls singing from their stomachs in perfect harmony.

“My favorite part of the day,” General Nanisca said through an easy smile. She handed Deja her bowl, watching her scoop the rice and meat with careful intent. Deja glanced quickly at her hand and offered a silent head bow.

Amenza’s mouth watered. “It is a gift to partake in Deja’s wonderful cooking with our sisters-in-arms. Don’t you agree, Izogie?”

After serving Amenza back her bowl, Deja choked on an inhale once the next hand extended forth her dish in pure anticipation. Her acute senses as a cook failed her. She no longer smelled the many spices she used this morning to prepare for dinner.

The heavenly scent of freshly scooped shea butter mixed with palm oil permeated the air around her in silent waves. It belonged to Izogie. It was her signature scent to command.

Deja tilted her head up slightly, even if it meant bearing witness to the illusion of Izogie standing there with trained eyes focused solely on her.

“Yes. Everyone knows I will only eat on the nights Deja cooks. She knows exactly how I like my meat,” Izogie answered, looking straight ahead at the sweaty cook. Their eyes locked on each other immediately.

It didn’t dawn on Deja that Izogie knew her name. Or how the intonation of Deja’s name rolling from her lips reminded her of freshly poured honey. Knots unfurled in Deja’s stomach upon taking an eyeful of Izogie’s hunky appearance. If she was going to commit to breaking a sacred rule, she would relish the forbidden taste of the bounty before it was snatched away.

Izogie wore her warrior outfit with pride. Her biceps protruded from under the gold band adorned on either side, which was accompanied by a simple shell band. Numerous scars from battle and training alike were dusted across the canvas of her rich dark skin. Two particular scars caught Deja’s attention.

One was imbued on the right side of her neck, extending down towards her collarbone. The second scar was carved above her right shoulder blade. Seeing them up this close made Deja question their existence. If they could talk, they would whisper the many tales of Izogie the Conqueror, the undefeated champion of Dahomey.

The gods took their time with this one, Deja thought.

Izogie licked her lips, a dangerous act to initiate as a warrior. Deja was the first one to break eye contact and forced herself to gaze upon her hand instead. Long nails sharpened to a fine point piqued her interest further. Even after she knowingly broke the king’s only rule, Deja’s courage dissipated. She held the bowl out for Izogie to reach and willed herself into breathing normally again.

What the cook wasn’t expecting was for Izogie’s fingers slowly gliding over hers, delivering the final blow to Deja’s resolve. The painful pang inside of her heart resonated through her bones. These feelings only caused trouble. Deja needed their existence extracted from her body altogether.

“Thank you, Izogie,” she finally spoke, taking heed of the rule by casting her eyes downward. She hoped Izogie wouldn’t see through her facade. Their dance would soon be over after this exchange. “I’m always happy to hear any reviews of my cooking. Your kind words are not lost on me. I’ll strive to make an even better meal tomorrow.”

After tidying up the kitchen area on the training grounds, Deja hurried back to her room. The ticking time bomb of tears was uncertain. But being in Izogie’s presence earlier was the obvious catalyst for their near arrival. Once she entered in the familiarity of those four walls, Deja permitted herself to crumble completely.

Large teardrops clouded her vision, which signaled the commencement of her nightly sobbing session. No one ever told her how intense it was to shoulder unrequited feelings. She never weighed the price of losing her physical strength to be in close proximity of her crush. Her heart never carried this big of a burden before.

On beautiful starry nights like this, Deja was curled up in her bed. Her beautiful dark skin contrasted the green patterned dress she wore as she bathed under the slivers of moonlight. She wished for the gods to take away the beating of her heart.

And soon, sleep washed her tears away.

It was well past midnight as most of the king’s guard was snoring the night away. The halls should have remained quiet. But two hours into her slumber, she woke up to a pair of noisy bare feet stomping across the smooth clay floor. Then, a disembodied voice—the same voice she spent an hour crying over—spoke up in a failed whisper.

“Deja, I request your company at once! You and I must speak now.”

As she stirred from her bed, Deja thought it was still the plot to one of her many vivid dreams. Her headwrap fell off in the middle of her thrashing, revealing her messy shoulder length twists. Usually Deja hid them away, but a touch of sleep convinced her this was part of the dream.

She walked to the cloth separating her room from the hallway and pushed it open with one hand, completely unaware of her heart stuttering at the sight in front of her.

Izogie was still radiant in her warrior attire, but her two machetes weren’t attached to either side of her hips. She was never unarmed during her nighttime patrol. Her oiled black skin shimmered in the fractals of lit palace torches, the forbidden sight meant to be consumed by Deja’s eyes. Her usual hardened stare softened the moment she lay her eyes upon the sleepy cook. Something must have happened.

Deja leaned forward to make sure no one else was awakened by Izogie’s loud announcement, fixing her gaze to the ground. “Izogie? This couldn’t wait until sunrise?”

“Y-Your hair,” she coughed. “I’ve never seen it like this before.”

“Forgive me, but I heard how urgent you were calling for me. Have I done something to upset you?”

“Yes. May I come in?”

Her brisk answer silenced Deja. She held the cloth and stepped to the side to grant Izogie access across her sacred threshold. The faint smell of distilled alcohol wafted past Deja’s nose, piquing her curiosity further. She heard from another staff member, Cerys, about the cases retrieved by the soldiers. Never once did she think about how Izogie would indulge in its rancid taste.

Alcohol was known for altering realities.

Once inside, Deja released the fabric and positioned herself to stand in front of the soldier. Her eyes fell again to the red floor. There was a brief silence shared between them, neither willing to break away from it.

Soon, Izogie cleared her throat. “Do you know what you did?”

Deja shook her head slowly, refusing to look up. Izogie blew a large gust of wind from her mouth before letting out a chuckle.

“You looked at me, Deja. You broke the king’s only rule and I deserve to know why.”

She swallowed down the dry bubble in her throat. “I cannot say.”

“You will.”

“Izogie. Please, don’t make me say it.” The tears bubbled to the surface and threatened to fall again.

Her fingers gingerly cupped Deja’s chin, forcing her to meet the pool of chocolate browns she could spend hours getting lost in. The thought of being guided under her slight hand wasn’t lost on Deja now.

Izogie was Deja’s undoing.

“There it is,” Izogie whispered, allowing her shaky thumb to graze the corner of Deja’s lips. She was teetering closer to danger. “The look in your eyes tells me everything I need to know.”

“I’ll get rid of them, Izogie!” Deja blubbered out, fresh tears spilling down past her cheeks. “I’ll banish my heart far away from my reach and never look at you again. If it is my punishment, I will obey.”

Izogie blinked in astonishment and halted her thumb over Deja’s lower lip. She took in Deja’s tears, committing the scene to memory before shutting her eyes for a moment. “Punishment? You thought I came here tonight under the cover of night to punish you?”

“It’s the only reason I can dream you into being in front of me now.”

Izogie opened her eyes. “What do you mean dream?”

Deja brought her hand to Izogie’s wrist, wrapping her fingers around it. “I’ll tell you why I broke the rule. I’m sure you’re dying to know why a second-rate cook took a chance and stole a glance at the general’s best soldier.”

Izogie remained silent as Deja went on. “These feelings inside of me, I can’t quite describe it. All I know is I would like to be in your presence all of the time. I want to feel your fingers caress me and collapse into your warm embrace at the end of the day. I want to be able to make you laugh. I want to be the reason behind your smiles. I want to keep feeding you until you tire of my cooking. I wish to be important to you. I’ll wage a thousand wars and endure punishment from the gods if it means I can look at you. And I don’t want anyone else. My heart desires you. I like you. There, I’ve said it.”

Deja drew out a long breath and dropped her hand from Izogie’s wrist, thinking the dream sequence ended here. But the cloudy haze of sleep robbed her of witnessing Izogie disappear as an apparition. Instead, the real Izogie stood in place with her thick brows raised from shock.

“I am not asleep, am I?”

Izogie shook her head, the same face adorned with pure confusion only few can produce from her.

Before she could explain her way out of the wordy confession, Izogie dropped her hand and fell to her knees. Deja came down to her level and clapped her hands together to slide them in front of her mouth. Whether it was a prayer to the gods or a repentance from the woman she loved, Deja knew everything was ruined.

Her first thought was to shift blame onto the alcohol.

“You drank from the white man’s port, didn’t you?” she questioned, finally scanning Izogie’s eyes for a hint of truth.

Izogie gulped. “It is the only good thing they brought. It is called whiskey.”

“What does it taste like?”

“Bitter at first. Though, I find the taste turns sweeter as you drink more from the bottle.”

“And how much did you drink tonight?”

“Enough to get me here to you.”

General Nanisca’s right-hand was properly intoxicated. She sat in front of Deja, willing to answer any question thrown her way. For the first time ever, the odds shifted in her favor of winning the unofficial war they sparred in.

“Who did you drink with? You couldn’t have possibly had this whiskey drink alone.”

Izogie traced the remnants of the clear liquid with a swipe from her tongue and giggled. Her demeanor was unlike the brute soldier she presented herself as every day. “One of the trainees I brought in from town, Nawi, took a gulp and puckered up her face like a fish. Can you believe it? Finally, I found a way to shut that tongue up!”

“Ey, the poor girl was tricked! She didn’t stand a chance against you.”

“The first rule of training: always obey Izogie,” she patted the middle of her chest, accepting the whiskey’s effects with open arms. “I am Izogie!”

“You are a terribly loud influence,” Deja groaned.

“And you… You are incredible, Deja.”

Deja stared incredulously at Izogie as she swayed side to side, showcasing her drunken smile. She couldn’t understand the depth of Izogie’s reaction.

“The power you exude hasn’t been stolen from you. I can see it,” Izogie said as she steadied herself, eyes holding the cook’s gaze. “How is it that you can stand there and profess your love for me when I’ve come to tell you, the keeper of my heart, that I am rendered powerless against you?”

Deja’s prayer filled hands dropped into her lap, a sigh escaping her parted lips. “Keeper of your heart?”

Izogie crawled forward, resigned to surrender under Deja’s careful, tender touch. She rested her head on top of Deja’s opened hands as the weight of her body relaxed to the floor. Here it was, she experienced the most serene moment of existence. She was home.

“I came here tonight to tell you how I couldn’t hide my feelings any longer. Seeing the way you looked at me during dinner, I was weakened. I win every single challenge thrown at my feet. But for you, I am at your mercy.”

“Izogie, you can’t mean that,” Deja whispered.

“Whether you believe me or not—and I sincerely hope that you do—I have been looking your way ever since you started working at the Dahomey Palace. But you never looked at me. I assumed it’s because you heard of how the townsfolk can never look directly at us,” Izogie paused. “I broke the rules a long time ago when I found myself falling for you.”

Deja pulled her hands from under her crush’s head and fiddled away at her short nails. In the distance, thunder boomed across the sky. The downpour of rain would shower over the village grounds soon. And Izogie’s words were out in the open for Deja to see, but she wouldn’t receive it.

“What does that mean for us?”

Izogie lifted both of her hands and grabbed Deja’s arms. As she tightened her grip, the sharp tips of her nails punctured tiny holes of blood through Deja’s skin. It wouldn’t leave behind any scarred tissue.

“Deja,” Izogie baited her with the likeness of her name rolling off her whiskey coated tongue. She waited so long to hear it from her lips. “I like you. Everything you said in your confession is what my heart desires for us too. You don’t have to banish your feelings away from your heart anymore. I want to be with you. I wish to explore this love by your side.”

“But behind these walls, I am not allowed to look at you. I know the rule. I am not an exception.”

“You are mistaken,” Izogie breathed out a sigh, her hands releasing their hold and returning back to her sides. “The king’s rule only applies to the outsiders. Once you pass through those doors and live within the palace halls, your eyes are free to roam wherever.”

Deja didn’t know that part. “This whole time—”

“We could have locked eyes every waking moment over the past year. There would have been no judgment. And there is no punishment I wish to inflict on you after finally looking at me.”

The air returned to Deja’s lungs once she sucked in a quick breath. There was no special circumstance to a rule given from the inside of a palace. Its existence was nullified. She was free to look at the love of her life without living a life shrouded in shame and tearful regret.

“Then why did you come here?”

“My punishment needs to be delivered by your hand,” Izogie admitted, her teeth sinking into her lower lip. “I should have loved you out loud. You can blame the whiskey if you want, but I wish to make a small, selfish request for my sentence.”

Deja ushered her to continue with a stern nod. “I want to spend a lifetime with you. This time, I’ll be the one waging a war against the gods. If it is my punishment, I will obey.”

She placed both of her hands on Izogie’s face, carefully, allowing her thumbs to rub around the apples of her cheeks. Soft patters of a light rain against the roof drummed away the rest of Deja’s worries.

“Punishments can wait. Nothing in this world would make me happier than being yours.”

Izogie’s smile was a sight to behold. Her happiness was infectious to those in her vicinity. “You were always mine.”

Deja’s fingers traveled down to the side of Izogie’s neck and slid over the mark which caught her curiosity earlier. The smoothness of the scarred tissue beneath her touch was nothing close to what she imagined. Deja held Izogie’s attention, her eyes searching for the unwritten answer among the stars.

“I must be honest about my fascination with your battle scars. They are my favorite part of you. I wish to familiarize myself with the existence of every single one of them. Every story behind them will be mine to carry.”

“Ey. Don’t make such bold statements. You are not under the whiskey’s influence.”

“No. Just yours,” Deja said in the midst of a smile, gliding her fingers along Izogie’s hard collarbone. “Since we’re making our requests known, can I ask you for something before the whiskey’s magic spell wears off?”

“My love, you could ask me to burn the world in your name. I would do anything.”

“My world has already been set ablaze,” she chuckled. “Am I allowed to kiss you now?”

Izogie blinked away her surprise. “Do you really need to ask?”

“I’m giving you the chance to oppose your destiny. I was told a warrior’s consent is the bridge used to build the most sacred bond of trust.”

“Who told you that? Amenza?” Izogie arched one of her perfect thick brows. “Are you aiming to be part of the Agojie?”

“No, no, no. I want you to honor me as the keeper of your heart. Now,” Deja leaned down, maintaining a healthy gap between their lips, “do I have your permission to kiss you?”

Uncontrollable laughter bubbled from Izogie’s mouth and shook her entire body, serving as a reminder of why Deja yearned to be next to her in the first place.

“Yes. A thousand times, yes.”

Deja closed the gap between their mouths in one fell swoop, commencing the drums of their heartbeats together on one accord. Even with closed eyes, their hearts guided the movement of the kiss. There was an insatiable craving stirring inside of her. Maybe it was the softness of Izogie’s lips which coaxed it alive. Perhaps, it brought Deja’s hidden desires off of the highest shelf and delivered it straight into her tattered hands.

Their lips parted to regain the rhythm of their breathing, but the dance began again as the bitter, intoxicating taste of whiskey on Izogie’s tongue consumed Deja’s thoughts. She slid the tip along Deja’s upper lip, briefly poking it into her mouth once their lips connected.

The warrior learned how much pressure would be necessary to unravel the poor cook, easily stripping her lover of the strength she once possessed. Deja knew her opponent studied the nature of her delighted reactions, especially when she was this close to her target. She broke away from their intense kiss in a heated daze, pressing a series of pecks along Izogie’s jaw and brought them over onto her right cheek.

Izogie went and found the purest source of unrefined sugar disguised as the gorgeous black angel hovering above her. The unsuspected move to shower her face with wet kisses rendered her speechless. She broke out in fits of laughter, enveloping the two lovers in state of unbridled bliss.

The war ended on a mutual agreement to establish new terms for peace. Kissing Deja was Izogie’s new purpose. And Deja promised Izogie a lifetime of learning the stories behind each scar, old and new. The world would go on without them.

And Izogie savored her reward with great reverence.

Deja pulled herself back, finally mustering enough willpower between the two of them. Izogie’s eyes slowly batted open as her signature sheepish grin wiped away any ill thoughts of the day before. The sight of her covered in the various kiss marks earned a nod of approval from the artist herself. Deja loved her new canvas.

“You should prepare yourself for early morning training, my golden warrior. We’ll discuss the parameters of your punishment during my lunch break.”

Whiskey was a truth-telling serum delivered overseas. It was the only thing the traders deemed worthy because of its magical properties of subduing the tongues of even the strongest soldiers.

“And I will obey,” Izogie said. “All I ask is that you will remind me of this moment. When I wake in your quarters a few hours from now, I fear I won’t remember what damage has been done on this battlefield. Or which one of us emerged victorious.”

Deja dragged one finger over her brow and pressed another kiss against the bone with an air of ease. She watched as her love flipped onto her side with closed eyes, nuzzling her cheek against Deja’s thick thigh. The whiskey’s magic spell was slowly lifting. Sleep would come for her soon.

“I promise you, Izogie. I won’t let you forget to collect your spoils from war.”

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Find the word

Thanks @mjjune for the tag!

My words: destiny, dead, dry, door, dang

Your words: rib, write, expect, spin, person

Tagging @badluck990 @leahnardo-da-veggie @elsie-writes @mk-writes-stuff @drchenquill @rjcopeseethemald @sparrow-orion-writes @cat-esper @mysticstarlightduck @winterandwords @ashen-crest + anyone else

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites (remember y'all can hop on if you want!)

Keep reading for:

I didn't use the word destiny in any current WIPs, but I know I used it in my Warriors cats fanfic because of course I did.

Gwen runs from Jedi and Carmen

Rose reads about her powers

Greyson gives Lexi a candy cane

Woah do you think Noelle is tall?

Destiny - from Warriors: Night and Day: The New Clans

Even though the water was higher up, Sparrowpaw put his forepaws in the water. The silvery river sparkled in the starlight. As the starry water lapped over his paws, he felt himself get drowsy. That’s when he heard the familiar voice. Angrily, Sparrowpaw stood up and turned around to face Rosecloud. “What is it now? I haven’t fallen asleep by the river for ages!” The white StarClan warrior sighed. “You know how you smelled Daisypaw’s scent last Gathering and told Lemonfrost?” Slowly, Sparrowpaw nodded. Rosecloud narrowed her eyes. “Why?” Sparrowpaw shrugged. Rosecloud leaned forward. “Don’t bother with interfering! Daisypaw has her own destiny! At the next Gathering, she will sneak out! It’s your job to make sure she doesn’t get caught!” Sparrowpaw couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Doesn’t get caught? How is her destiny so important she can break the warrior code?” Rosecloud sighed. “I can’t tell you that.” Sparrowpaw unsheathed his claws. “Why not?”

Yes, Sparrowpaw. Fight a ghost. That makes sense.

Dead - from The Secret Portal Part One (Gwen POV)

I heard Dr. Asghar and Dr. Moon run after me, but I didn’t stop. I had a good head start and was faster. I reached the vase I’d seen and gave a mental apology for knocking it over. Dr. Asghar swore loudly as I skidded around the corner and ran down that hall until I realized I reached a dead end. I whipped around but saw Dr. Asghar and Dr. Moon at the start of the hallway. I froze. “Where’d she go?” Dr. Asghar asked, panting. “I don’t know,” Dr. Moon said. He looked around. “She had to have turned here. Her powers must have activated.” I stood there in confusion. Looked behind me, looked back at them. What powers? How could they not see me? I decided not to think too much about it and be thankful that they couldn’t while trying to make my heavy breathing quiet down. “Let’s go back to the lab,” said Dr. Moon after a moment, turning around. “She could be demonstrating several abilities. I can name four off the top of my head.” He smiled. “Actually, seven! I’m curious to see which one it is.” Dr. Asghar huffed, but followed her colleague back around the corner. “Sorry about the vase,” I heard Dr. Moon say. “Who cares? It was my uncle’s. Good riddance!” I heard a sound that implied Dr. Asghar kicked a shard of the vase that bounced off the wall. “Eight!” I heard Dr. Moon exclaim. I could almost hear Dr. Asghar roll her eyes.

Didn't used to have the character moments with Jedi and Carmen here, so I love this little exchange now.

Dry - from The Secret Portal Part Two (Rose POV)

“You’re getting Understanding Dimensiokinesis by Yousra El-Amin since she’s a dimensiokinetic, and you’d want a first-hand account.” “You know me so well,” Issa smiled as she opened up the book. “Which leads me with Inside Class Four Powers by Cormack Cuoco,” said CJ, grabbing the largest book. “Why’s that?” Alex asked. “I dunno, I liked his name,” said CJ, smirking. Alex laughed, then opened up her book. I took that as the cue to do the same. The art of the book was fantastic, but Damian Brown must have been really boring or something because his writing style was super dry and didn’t match the color of the book at all. However, the illustrator did help emphasize the points to make the text engaging, so I guess I couldn’t complain. Brown went into the science behind my power, but I skimmed past the section because I didn’t think that would be helpful. I flipped to the chapter on controlling the powers to navigate the multiverse. I jumped when a ringing timer went off. CJ turned off his phone’s alarm and said, “Alright, gang, what did we learn?”

You would not believe how boring the original draft of this scene was.

Door - from The Secret Portal Part One (Lexi POV)

“Lexi?” Mrs. Korrin asked. “Don’t you have a partner?” I looked around the room. “No, everyone else is taken.” “Hm, I know we have an even number of kids—” The door slammed open, and a kid with messy dark hair was panting in the doorway. “Greyson,” Mrs. Korrin sighed, “is it going to be like this every day?” “Sorry, Mrs. Korrin,” said Greyson, moving to his seat. “Not so fast, we’re partnering up, and Lexi doesn’t have a partner. Get your worksheet, and come sit next to her.” Greyson obeyed and sat in the empty seat beside me. He turned to me, smiling. I didn’t return it. Greyson’s smile faded and he awkwardly tapped his pencil on the desk. My hand moved up to my hair and took off the hairtie. “You okay?” Greyson finally asked. “Yeah, I’m fine, let’s do the worksheet,” I muttered quickly as I undid the braid by running my fingers through it. Greyson pursed his lips, then reached into his bag. “Candy cane?” I crinkled my nose. “It’s August. How old is that?” “Candy canes last, like, years.” “That’s years old?” “No, it’s fresh.” “It’s August.” Greyson still held out the peppermint stick to me. I sighed and accepted his gift, with full intent to throw it away later.

This is an inside joke. I don't care if it doesn't make sense.

Dang - from The Secret Portal Part One (Akash POV)

Jedi was not in the room despite Maddie and Gwen being back. Carmen, however, was muttering to herself as she tapped the screen, freaking out over the dimensiokinetic—Rosalinda, who I assumed was the girl sitting in a chair against the wall. Another girl sat against the wall across the room. Even from here, I could tell that she was extremely tall, especially when Maddie, though short, was standing next to her, and they were practically the same height that way. “She’s not an ultimate,” Robbie suddenly said. “What?” I looked down at him peeking out from behind the desk, looking a bit disappointed. “Look how she’s messing with that hair tie.” Looking back, the girl was waving her hand in front of her, intently watching a hair tie spin around her palm. “She’s telekinetic.” “Then… dang, she’s tall.” “Y’know non-ultimate Alii can get pretty tall, like Parker,” Robbie pointed out. “Yeah, but Parker’s sixteen.”

This was my only use of the word "dang" unless you could "dangit!"

It's getting to the point where I feel like I'm repeating excerpts, but I suppose it may be a good thing! I don't tag *all* the same people each time so maybe some folks haven't read them yet.

[twinflames-rewrite]

wildfire alone can save the clans

As young kits, Princess and Rusty dreamed of the open moors. Their mother Nutmeg took them to WindClan, one of the four warrior Clans that lived in the wild. WindClan's leader, Magpiestar, accepted them into his Clan, setting their paws on the starry path of destiny.

The Twin Flames Rewrite has three main focuses!

Connections - expand and explore the connections between characters and the Clans themselves.

Territory - the Clans are now based in the Northern Cascade Mountain Range, allowing for consistent - and new! - ecology and environments.

Culture - expanding the many facets of Clan life and culture, including some changes to Clan structure, as well as fantastical Territory Powers for each Clan.

Ask box is always open - I love to answer questions and chat!

Clan Structure A guide to the updated Clan structure for Twin Flames!

[bonefall]

Not really a sketch request, but you should draw your fav wc character!

[Image ID: Bluestar from warrior cats. She is drawn in a way that resembles a wolf, with a bushy tail and a light blue mane. The scar on her back is golden, along with her claws, teeth, and nose. She's growling at the starry sky above her and looking directly at the moon.]

I'm completely normal about this woman I promise you can come closer

-I gave her family a wolf motif and I think it works well. My woman can eat the moon. As a treat.

-Her story in the rewrite is that she creates an ideology because of her gay little friend group and I just think that is delightful

-She also defies destiny and destroys the thread of fate so hard Goosefeather stops having visions completely.

-Ok yes overwhelming tragedy that she lost her kits but she also WON. She SAVED the Clan from Thistleclaw. She DID IT.

-The myth of the lone wolf; everything she's ever done has been for the well being of her Clan and her friends. I don't know if that makes sense to others but it makes sense to ME

[silurisanguine]

20 questions for fic writers

thankyou @poetic-poltergeist for the tag!! <3 (starting a new thread as the other was getting looooong.)

okay let's see

1) How many works do you have on AO3

23 currently!

2) What's your total AO3 word count?

245,631 and counting...... (as i new chapter of a fic should be going up any day now)

3) What fandoms do you write for?

Starfield, Deus Ex, Vampyr, Dishonored, Thief and one for Destiny2 at the moment.

4) Top five fics by kudos?

Savages, Paradigm Shift, To See Beyond Forever, Starry Starry Night and Take me Away from All this Death. (would love to see some of my Starfield fics get in here by next year! ).

5) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I always do, comments fuel me! Seriously the serotonin boost from getting a comment is often exactly what i need to keep writing.

6) What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Shattered Reflections i'd say. (but chapter wise, it's my new one Chasing Your Star...)

7) What’s the fic you write with the happiest ending?

That will be.... [redacted].

8) Do you get hate on fics?

First fic i published on Ao3 got a unsolicited crit. One point was valid but the other i thought was unwarranted...and in fact incorrect anyway. But other than that, i've had nothing but positive comments.

9) Do you write smut?

haha.....oh ...OH YES. But always with plot and in context of story.

10) Do you write crossovers?

Yes i have one crossover right now - Emerging Shadow (Dishonored/Thief), but i plan another -( deux ex/ Assassin's Creed).

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Probably by AI.....

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, i dont believe so.

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, i'm too much of a control freak for story telling, though i do work with others to work out plot points sometimes.

14) What’s your all-time favourite ship?

Named ships? Emsider and McReid. (also Sam Coe& Spacefarer).

15) What’s the WIP you hope to finish but doubt you ever will?

Im not jinxing anything. I WILL finish all my fics. It just might take a while...But i doubt i will write any more for the Destiny fandom.

16) What are your writing strengths?

Story telling and scene setting I'd like to think.

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

Expanded grammar and finishing stories.

18) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I try to find someone who speaks the language natively to help me with any foreign dialogue i might add.

19) First fandom you wrote for?

Xena, Warrior Princess. Back in my Live Journal days.

20) Favourite fic you’ve ever written? I have to admit i have a soft spot for Obsidian Dreams and Take me Away from All this Death. But i am absolutely loving writing Chasing Your Star Until I Find Home. I tag - @lakritzwolf @eridanidreams @bearlytolerant @atonalginger @fangbangerghoul @booburry @toxiclizardwrites @aro-pancake @aislingdmdt @onewhoturns @lisa-and-shadow @thatsgoodsquishy0 @despicablediet @themortalscout

[mogai-sunflowers]

aurethesia coining to-do list!

aurethi related to…

being an auroracore enchantress

violin music

flute music

pastel rainbow waterlilies

auroracore waterlilies

lindsey Stirling music, music videos, and aesthetics

the scene in ‘abominable’ where Yi plays her violin in a snowstorm

auroracore skies with sparkly auroracore rainbows

sparkly auroracore roses

pastel rainbow roses

sparkly auroracore butterflies

sparkly auroracore dragonflies

starry auroracore skies

starry pastel rainbow skies

auroracore-themed flowers

auroracore + spacecore

auroracore + sparklecore

auroracore + crystalcore

auroracore themes of the sea

an auroracore enchantress emanating auroracore energy/power in an auroracore sky

being an auroracore muse

ethereal music

auroracore twilight aesthetics

ethereal fantasy/auroracore landscapes

crystals, sparkles, magic powers, magic princesses, sparkly auroracore rainbows, and the sky

the following words: etherea, aurora, enchantress, crystal, fantasia, fantasy, magical, mystical, whimsical, fairytale, daydream, everafter, foreverafter, evermore, forevermore, foreverglow, afterglow, wonderland, flower, fleur, petal, lily, waterlily, rose, lavender, iris, blossom, star, stargaze, starlight, starcrossed, starshine, starglow, starchild, luna, moon, moonlight, moonglow, moonchild, moonrise, sunrise, dawn, sunset, day, heaven, haven, realm, sunkissed, dreamy, darling, sky, sweet, dainty, delicate, gentle, tranquil, peace, serene, paradise, romance, aura, lullaby, symphony, serenade, song, melody, harmony, siren, luminous, maiden, belle, dear, grace, hope, lovely, morning, majesty, reign, princess, goddess, fae, fairy, fairyland, storyland, storyteller, story, imagine, imagination, divine, rosetta, morningstar, fate, charming, dreamland, celestial, destiny, idyll, enamor, amore, aerial, wanderlust, bluebird, songbird, birdsong, hypnosis, twirl, romance, effervescent, eloquent, evanescent, serendipity, solitude, ephemeral, kiss, eden, ether, aether, garden, elixir, legacy, legend, eveningstar, illusion, sparkle, glimmer, shimmer, midnight, myth, lore, folklore, rainbow, hiraeth, quest, prophecy, dragonflight, dragonfly, butterfly, willow, aspen, juniper, meadow, artemis, echo, death, everlasting, primrose, nyx, lyric, galaxy, rain, mirror, eternia, and glow

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power

the following SPOP characters/things: Glimmer, Angella, Light Hope, Swift Wind, Mermista, Perfuma, Spinnerella, Netossa, Mara, Bright Moon, the Sea Gate, the Enchanted Forest, the planet Etherea, the SHERA transformation sequence, Mystacor, the SPOP finale, the episode ‘Princess Prom’, the stars in Etherea and what they represent, the SPOP theme song (Warriors), the song ‘Battle For Bright Moon’, the song ‘Ties that Bind’, and the entire SPOP soundtrack

barbie fairytopia

barbie mermaidia

barbie fairytopia magic of the rainbow

elina from Barbie fairytopia/mermaidia

the enchantress from Barbie fairytopia/mermaidia

barbie mariposa

barbie and the Diamond castle

the actual Diamond castle (and the scene where it finally appears) from Barbie and the Diamond castle

the muses from Barbie and the Diamond castle

the universe of tinker bell and especially pixie hollow

silvermist from tinkerbell

rosetta from tinkerbell

the owl house

The video games Ori and the Will of the Wisps and Ori and the Blind Forest

Masque dragon from Dragon Vale

the game Omori

the game Genshin Impact

the game ethereal legends

the game league of legends

the game legend of zelda

MLP

princess Celestia from MLP

Twilight sparkle from MLP

Midnight Sparjle from MLP

princess luna from MLP

the character Sisu from Raya and the Last Dragon

the light fury from HTTYD

the soundtracks of: Raya and the Last Dragon, Abominable, the Ori games, smallfoot, Hobbit/LOTR, Narnia, HTTYD, and Frozen/Frozen 2

the following geometry dash levels and soundtracks: back on track, Time Machine, theory of everything, theory of everything 2, electroman adventures, and hexagon force

ethereal island from my singing monsters

the following songs- crystallize, elements, the phoenix, foreverglow, aurora, stars align, take flight, artemis, guardian, between twilight, something wild (acoustic), lost girls, shadows, love goes on and on, where do we go, what you’re made of, song of the caged bird, and first light by Lindsey Stirling, STAR WALKIN, aurora, lonely world, the ritual, the spectre, SOS, parachute, satellite, pretty, MONUMENT, remember, weightless, forever, forgettable, alkaline, alchemy, radioactive rain, wonderland, strange utopia, ignite, world we used to know, pixies parasol, play, melodies, faded, alone pt. 2, hold on to your love, paper planes, are you happy, break with me, slow, wild enough, lead the way, wonderful life, for you, shine your way, remember, blue, free, how, if you believe, kings and queens, this is the hunt, war of hearts, nightshade, fragile world, show yourself, new way home, lily, different world, end of time, dark side, close your eyes, loyal brave and true, connected, believe, and starlight brigade

the show “trollhunters”

most of these will be posted on @auroras-kiss ! tagging @neopronouns @nepetaisms @queerliom @dreamythism @delusielle !

[shiningdesignersreflections]

Leonid: Dustless Feathers

Designer’s Reflection: Dustless Feathers

Obtained: Angel and Demon hell event

Rarity: UR

Attribute: Blue/Cool

Awakened Suit: Feather of Light

Story - transcripts from Designer’s Reflection

Chapter 1 - Dream of Fallen Stars

Chapter 2 - Orbit of Stars

Chapter 3 - Cry of Demons

Chapter 4 - Dustless Feathers

Chapter 5 - Break of Moonlight

Story - summarized

Leonid is awoken by a memory of his life in Pigeon. He was a hermit who only went outside to buy supplies, but would eventually retreat to his home in a banyan tree to observe the stars. He was always fascinated with them, and he studied their beauty and their destiny.

A nightmare of the stars falling to darkness finally snapped him out of his trance. He had fallen into the abyss after seeing a vision of the starry sky collapsing. Now, he was surrounded by darkness and noise. It overwhelmed him.

He got a momentary respite when a figure of beauty and desire approached him. She called herself the Goddess of Desire, and she offered to destroy the old world to make a new, more beautiful one for Leonid. One that would preserve the beauty of the stars forever.

It was exactly what he wanted... so why was he still missing something? Leonid backed away from her and kept trying to isolate himself from the noise.

Then, he saw a memory of a flower. It was alone on a branch, longing for water and sunshine. It was dying, but it still held onto that hope. Leonid was stunned. The flower never got its wish fulfilled... but it was still beautiful. He peeked out at the darkness surrounding him, and he recognized some of the noises as his old neighbors: the starving fisher family, a young man who desired love, the little boy who desired to be a warrior.

None of them had their initial desires fulfilled... yet there was still beauty in their fate. Leonid realized that he had been trying to predict and preserve the ending beauty when there was already so much more in the ordinary moments leading up to it. Beauty and disgust, life and death, light and shadow, were all part of the same thing.

That revelation allowed him to complete his manuscript of the angel design. By accepting the darkness as well, he gained enough power to break free of the abyss. A resulting war of the gods ended with him returning to Miraland to observe and protect fate.

And he does this by taking on Modric as his newest student.

Connections

-Leonid lived and worked in a banyan tree. Yexiao used to live and work near a banyan tree years ago before she lost her memories in the Reflection for Spring Forest. Since Cloud and Pigeon are neighboring countries, it’s possible that this is the same tree.

-Modric and Nikki are both students of Leonid’s. His “interference” is crucial to setting up the chain of events leading to the arrival and defeat of the Goddess of Desire: he paved the way for Modric to get access to the hidden chamber of the Original Crystal, and he gave Nikki the enchanted necklace that helped light the way out of the abyss.

-Twinkle Twinkle is the Reflection where Leonid first discovers the Ocean of Memories; this is the Reflection where he explores the Ocean’s depths and sets up the path for Miraland’s destruction; and his latest Reflection (the VIP suit Prophecy), is the fitting end that explains why he did what he did and where he is now.

Fun Facts

-The idea of everything being impermanent yet connected is a central belief of Buddhism. It also explores how to end human suffering and seek enlightenment, much like Leonid’s quest at the beginning.

-Another core belief of Buddhism is that one of the causes of suffering is desire or illusion. Leonid is able to escape the abyss after he breaks through the Goddess of Desire’s mirages.

-The Goddess of Desire had Leonid’s desire all wrong: he didn’t want Miraland to be destroyed, he just learned to accept that destruction is as important as beauty in the way the world works.

-It’s not clear yet when Leonid had time to make the manuscript before giving it to the woman in Twinkle Twinkle, but the Ocean of Memories seems to exist outside of space and time, allowing some leeway in the timeline.

[dandelionfairywish]

monster Squad

Everything monsters

1 .viki dramas and movies  

2. Netflix original dramas and movies 

3.  viki take of dramas and movie sometimes without warning and you might not see them depending on where you live  so   enjoy while you can and I'm going to keep them on the list if they do get removie because sometimes they put them back on.

My Love from the Star.

Blood

Tale of the Nine-Tailed

Orange Marmalade

I Cannot Hug You

Zombie Detective

Love Between Fairy and Devil

Doom at Your Service

Happiness

Kiss Goblin

Kissable Lips

The Sweet Blood

My Amazing Boyfriend My Amazing Boyfriend Season 2 Rattan Ghost Doctor Oh My Ghost Bring It On, Ghost The Legend of the Blue Sea 49 Days With a Merman The Witch's Diner The Master's Sun Witch's Love

Sell Your Haunted House

The Witch Store

The Witch Store Reopening

Mirror of the Witch

My Chilling Roommate

The Untamed

Goblin

Hotel del Luna

Ashes of Love

Wu Xin: The Monster Killer

Eternal Love

Ancient Love Poetry

The Blue Whisper

My Girlfriend Is an Alien

My Girlfriend Is an Alien Season 2

Meant to Be

Angel's Last Mission: Love

Bride of the Century

From Now On, Showtime!

The Great Shaman Ga Doo Shim

Half Bright and Half Rain

The Bride of Habaek

The Psychic Duo

Hi! School - Love On

Moonshine and Valentine

The Legends

Lovely Horribly

Missing: The Other Side

Black Knight: The Man Who Guards Me

Love and Destiny

Miss the Dragon

Scripting Your Destiny

My Dear Brothers

Lovers of the Red Sky

Legend of Fu Yao

Immortal Samsara

Phantom School

Aono-kun ni Sawaritai kara Shinitai

Nana's Game

Romantic Warriors

Eien no Kinou

The Silence of the Monster

The Fox Fairy

My Fantastic Mrs Right

I'm a Pet At Dali Temple

Be My Cat

My Girlfriend Is a Gumiho

My Husky Boyfriend

Meow, the Secret Boy

My Roommate Is a Gumiho

Legend of Nine Tails Fox

The Legend of White Snake

Fox in the Screen

Kokdu: Season of Deity

Three-Body

76 Horror Bookstore

Twelve Legends

The Investiture of the Gods

The Great Ruler

Mirror: A Tale of Twin Cities

Novoland: Pearl Eclipse

Ice Fantasy

Ms. Cupid in Love

Love and Redemption

Ever Night

Ever Night Season 2

The Ghost Bride

A Korean Odyssey

The Uncanny Counter

The Uncanny Counter Season 2

Mystic Pop-Up Bar

The Devil Punisher

School Tales the Series

Sweet Home

All of Us Are Dead

Kingdom

Alchemy of Souls

Alchemy of Souls Season 2: Light and Shadow

Arthdal Chronicles Part 1: The Children of Prophecy

Arthdal Chronicles Part 2: The Sky Turning Inside Out, Rising Land

Arthdal Chronicles Part 3: The Prelude to All Legends

The Starry Love

Warm on a Cold Night

Deep Sea Mutant Snake

Golden Spider City

 Immortal Vampire

The Starry Night, the Starry Sea 

[valerieeei]

“Red Thread of Fate”

genre: romance

synopsis: In Liyue, the mythical warrior Xiao encounters you, and a connection is formed. As you spend time together, the concept of the Red Thread of Fate is explored, leading to the realization that your souls are bound by destiny. Love blossoms, defying the constraints of time and fate in the enchanting world of Liyue.

a/n: this was rushed and I'm still writing my unfinished works ahuhu😭

Among the ethereal mountains and misty landscapes of Liyue, a tale whispered through the ages spoke of a celestial thread that connected two souls destined to be together. This myth, known as the "Red Thread of Fate," wove a tapestry of love and destiny that even the jaded warrior, Xiao, couldn't quite ignore.

In a bustling village square, as the vibrant lanterns swayed gently in the wind, you caught Xiao's attention. Standing amidst the crowd, your eyes met his for the briefest of moments. And in that serendipitous instant, a spark ignited, as if an invisible thread had silently bound your fates together.

Curiosity piqued, Xiao cautiously approached you. His silver hair and enigmatic aura made him an alluring figure, but it was his unmistakable crimson eyes that hid a deep longing within.

"You," Xiao's voice was low, yet laced with rare vulnerability. "Do you believe in fate?"Startled at his question, your gaze met his, uncertainty mingling with a glimmer of hope. The concept of destiny and the Red Thread of Fate played at the edges of your mind.

"I... I don't know," you stammered, caught off guard by the gravity of the moment. "But I believe that sometimes, paths cross for a reason."Xiao's eyes softened, as if he found solace in your words. "Perhaps... fate has intertwined our paths," he murmured, clearly conflicted yet entranced by your presence.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, as you and Xiao spent more time together. With every shared moment, the threads of destiny seemed to tighten, bringing your souls closer. Yet, fear and doubt held Xiao captive, his heart guarded by the shadows of his past.

One evening, while perched on a cliffside, gazing at the expanse of the starry night sky, you mustered the courage to touch upon the myth of the Red Thread of Fate."Xiao, have you ever heard the story of the Red Thread of Fate?" you asked softly, your voice carrying the weight of your emotions.

His eyes shifted, a mixture of curiosity and trepidation filling them. "I have," he replied, his voice laced with an undercurrent of longing. "I have always wondered if such a thread exists, connecting me to the one I am meant to be with."

Tentatively, you reached out your hand, letting your fingers trace an invisible line between your souls. "Maybe it does," you whispered, your voice filled with gentle hope. "Maybe, just maybe, we were destined to meet."

Xiao's stormy gaze locked with yours, and in that moment, the barriers around his heart began to crumble. The Red Thread of Fate, once an ephemeral myth, now held the potential to become a reality.

As the moon cast its gentle glow upon you both, Xiao cautiously reached out, his hand finding its way to yours. Two hearts entwined, the invisible thread of destiny began to glow beneath the starlit sky.And as the myth of the Red Thread of Fate reached its zenith, it became clear that your souls were forever bound by a love, strong enough to defy the trials of time and fate.

[radioinactivity]

Your ZenosWol art makes me go feral in the best of ways. Do you have any lore you've made up for your WoL that hasn't been shown in one of your comics yet?

sob sob thank u so much i'm glad people like my blorbo and all of her capital P Problems. as for additional Retica lore, other than her family, her legs, and her everything with Zenos... 1. Her actual specific combat style is Garlean Lancer that's been influenced by Ishgardian Dragoon techniques over the years. But Garlean Lancers are their own breed of crazy, an extremely aggro and physical form of spear combat that usually involves some kind of gunhalberd (see: Nael van Darnus's Bradamante). You're just as likely to be kicked in the teeth or shoulder checked across the room by a Garlean lancer as you are run through by a spear. It takes a very specific kind of lunatic to become one because the training is grueling and the techniques are hard on the body - a lot of flinging yourself into the lion's maw that means people generally wash out of it. Retica is an exceptionally talented Lancer... which made going to Eorzea and pretending to be a starry eyed adventurer in the lancer's guild in Gridania very funny and very awkward lol. 2. She is nine times rejoined. The memoriate crystal in the Lunar Subterrane held Golbez's memories, ether, and essence... So at the end, all of that was folded into herself. 3. It's been mentioned in passing here and on twitter (I am also @radioinactivity there btdubs) but the Azem Memory Crystal was a poison pill that not even Emet-Selch was aware of. Azem's magic was a weird and special beast that involved "tying" her destiny to the people that swore their friendship and loyalty to her - which in turn allowed them to be summoned by her essentially plucking that thread of magic woven between them. When she was Sundered, those threads remained - equally sundered across the Shards, giving any wielder of the memory crystal a functionally infinite number of souls to call upon. The drawback is that every time those threads are plucked, a little more of Azem's aether flows back into the summoner. Retica, being eight times rejoined, is already Pretty Azem By Volume. So there's a contamination effect happening, where more of herself is being supplanted by Azem. All it would take to stop it is simply not using the crystal and hucking it into the nearest ocean... But that would mean she wouldn't have the ability to surmount the insurmountable anymore, she'd essentially stop being the Warrior of Light, and she can't accept that. She wants to help people, she wants to put some good into the world. She's TRIED to do it without the Crystal -- she 1v1'd Rubicante and it almost killed her. So she's still using it and hunting for a way to halt any additional contamination, accepting that she can't undo the damage that's already been done. I'm toying with the idea, if 7.0 lends itself to it, that Dawntrail is about that for Retica - going to the new world in search of a way to fix this. lol i could probably keep going but that's enough for now i think

[uridestiny]

The Warrior of the Moon Chapter 1: Roots.

This is the story of my own Wol, a story probably not very cute and friendly, but its origin.

Destiny Urih, if you had to tell your story, where would you start?

I would start from my origins, where I was born within the territory of Black Shroud. But at that time I lived with my parents and had another name... A'riane.

When I began to remember, I was between 5 or 6 summers old when my father took me for walks with him and taught me to take care of our forest, the animals and respect the elementals; I also remember how he taught me how to grow beautiful medicinal flowers. Flowers that are currently very rare to find due to their fragile life and specific care. I could never remember their name, but I do remember clearly their appearance, they were not small, but they did have large petals and they shone, white as the moon and always hidden in the shadows.

¨Remember my daughter, these flowers are the legacy of our family, your great-grandfather brought them from a foreign country and we were given the task of taking care of them. But you should know that, even if it is just a flower, this one is very special because of its powerful healing. Drinking a tea with the petals of these flowers will heal any internal illness you have.¨

Dad always spoke about great-grandfather in a special way, and he always told me how to give the best care to the flower even if I was still very small and somewhat neglected.

Dad said that the flower required special care at night; we are Keepers of the Moon, therefore, we could care for the flower while being allowed to enjoy the beautiful moonlight.

My mother on the other hand, she educated me to read and write, she was very good at teaching me complicated topics, she even taught me how to count. She planned to teach me how to cook, but only when I was a little taller like her. Although she was always strict, she always managed to show me her love in one way or another.

She tucked me in at dawn and sang me a sweet song while we both looked at the starry sky together. Sometimes she and I would sing together and the night seemed to shine brighter than the day.

My parents were always very loving, but they never talked about other family members; my mother only told me that her parents were alive but that she couldn't go see them. And on the other hand, my father said he had a brother; but other than that, they never wanted to tell me why I couldn't meet him or meet anyone else in my family. Not that I really wanted to know them.

Our home was humble and small, but we were very happy...

But... What doesn't the saying say... That all happiness must come to an end soon?

I was 8 summers old, I was returning from collecting wood to be able to prepare the night bonfire, I remember that it was already past noon, and there were only a few hours left until the sky would darken. When I arrived at the entrance of my house, I saw a well-dressed Miqo'te man with an annoyed expression, his frown was very noticeable on him.

I walked past him, but when his gaze focused on me, I felt deep fear as well as enormous contempt for me. I remember looking back to look at our house, because I thought the look was not at me but behind, but there was no one and I ran straight to the door of the house calling my mother about a “strange man” outside our house.

When she opened the door, my mother's face turned to me and then to the man and I saw how she paled in the presence of this person. She asked me to enter the house and not leave.

When she closed the door, I peeked through one of the poorly positioned and loose boards in the house to see my mother and that man.

He was with his arms crossed, and he still looked more annoyed when my mother approached him, I don't remember how much time passed, but they were both standing there talking and the man seemed to change his posture and behavior from time to time, from angry he seemed to go from looking calm and then back to looking angry.

Near the sun was setting, my father arrived home carrying with him an adult Coerl that he had just hunted for dinner that night... As soon as my father saw my mother and that man together, he ran and put himself between them, protecting my mother.

That's when I understood that this person really wasn't good.

They both continued standing there, talking, but at some point the unknown man raised his voice towards both of them and I managed to hear him.

¨DON'T SCREW ME! You know that Father always treated you like his favorite son and that's why he left you all his inheritance and land! IT WAS ALWAYS YOU AND NOT ME!¨

Dad stood in front of this person showing a straight and intimidating posture and also shouted at him.

¨FATHER I ALWAYS LOVE US BOTH!, but you always focused more on yourself, you lost yourself brother, on your own ego and greed; YOU SEPARATED FROM US TO GET BY FORCE WHAT IS NOT OURS!¨

There was a great silence, the man said a few more words, but I couldn't hear him and after that he left on his own accord.

When the man left into the shadows and night finally fell upon us, my parents hugged each other and I heard my mother sob.

After a while my parents came into the house and explained to me, that man... He was my uncle, my father's brother.

My dad told me that they were both very close before, they helped grandfather plant flowers, protect and preserve life in the forest, but one day, my father saw how his brother began to distance himself, first they spent hours wandering alone, then there were days of absence, and then... They were months that turned into years.

Before I was born, he returned to his old home, but not to apologize for his absence, but to settle down with a woman and to boast about his achievements and new fortune built by himself. To show my father and grandfather the great achievements and gifts he had for them. But my grandfather just looked sad and disappointed.

As if that were not enough... My uncle also returned to claim the territory that belonged to him by right of inheritance, since he would use it to sell it to a person with whom he would form a larger business. But my grandfather denied him, saying that from the moment he dared to abandon them without telling them anything, was the moment he lost his right to the inheritance.

¨A clan is like a family, that stays together, in good times and bad, we tell each other everything, from the greatest joys and the greatest anguish, but you didn't say anything, and you left without saying goodbye, we you left me with a broken heart and now that you bring good news you want to take something that no longer belongs to you... I have lost a son...¨

After that, my father received letters from my uncle just to insist that he convince grandfather to grant him the inheritance, but he never wrote an apology.

And now that he has appeared again, he continues to insist on his right.

But when my dad told me these words, he looked worried, I could say... He was afraid.

That night I couldn't sleep, it was almost time for dawn, and although my mother insisted that I sleep with her, I didn't do it, I really didn't want to, that man's look... He really looked like that of someone capable of doing damage.

I heard my father's presence approach me while I was looking at the starry sky from the top of a tree, and he asked me to come down. When I was in his arms, he held me safely and strongly and said some words to me that I will never forget.

¨Nothing in the world is perfect, it is big and very scary, but I want you to know that even so, there are wonderful and beautiful things, you just have to know how to find them, appreciate them and treasure them like the stars of the night. You and your mother are my stars, my greatest love and my greatest pride.¨

"If you need me, I will always come back to you"

I hugged my father very tightly that night... And if I had known, I would have wished that moment would last forever, because... It was the last time I hugged him.

[ygo-monster-type-tournament]

By the way, here's the full bracket in text form. I haven't finished the images yet because the way i'm doing it takes a while but looks really cool (it's got rainbow!)

BRACKET A

Shinobird vs. P.U.N.K. vs. Impcantation

Noble Knight vs. Infinitrack vs. World Legacy

Chemicritter vs. Fire Fist vs. Kuriboh

Mikanko vs. Guardian vs. Tachyon

Black Luster Soldier vs. Blaze Fiend vs. Icejade

Hole vs. Crystron vs. Cat (Rush Duel)

Shaddoll vs. S-Force vs. Mekk-Knight

Scrap vs. Digital Bug vs. Drone

Bujin vs. Nimble vs. Tri-Brigade

Beast Gear vs. Charmer vs. Nemeses

Subterror vs. PSY-Frame vs. Orcust

Therion vs. Nordic vs. Branded

The Weather vs. Gorgonic vs. Mythical Beast

Neo-Spacian vs. Predaplant vs. Traptrix

Fire Formation vs. Bystial vs. Kashtira

Dark Magician vs. Mathmech vs. Majestic

⁂

BRACKET B

Madolche vs. Mannadium vs. Skiel

Number vs. Tindangle vs. Crusadia

Numeron vs. Jinzo vs. Live☆Twin

Speedroid vs. Jointech vs. Mayakashi

Dragonmaid vs. Poker Knight vs. Tron

Flamvell vs. Entity vs. Zefra

Ritual Beast vs. The Agent vs. Appliancer

Arcana Force vs. Dark Scorpion vs. Yang Zing

Vernusylph vs. Timelord vs. Evil Eye

Rokket vs. Ogdoadic vs. Umbral Horror

Sky Striker vs. Triamid vs. Aquaactress

Crystal Beast vs. Unchained vs. Voidvelgr

Kaiju vs. Virtual World vs. Synchro Dragon

Heraldic Beast vs. Chrysalis vs. Yubel

/Assault Mode vs. Battlewasp vs. Ghoti

Malefic vs. Fortune Fairy vs. Endymion

⁂

BRACKET C

Blue-Eyes vs. Inzektor vs. Mist Valley

Gravekeeper’s vs. Star Seraph vs. Sunavalon

Evil★Twin vs. Fossil vs. Despia

Code Talker vs. Malicevorous vs. Meklord

Beetrooper vs. Purrely vs. Generaider

Dragon Ruler vs. Iron Chain vs. Genex

Sportsdragon vs. Ancient Gear vs. Aesir

Gaia vs. Constructor vs. Armed Dragon

G Golem vs. B.E.S. vs. Excutie

Music Princess vs. Dark World vs. T.G.

Krawler vs. Prophecy vs. The☆

Batteryman vs. Magistus vs. Thunder Dragon

Magical Musket vs. Strike Dragon vs. A.I.

Swordsoul vs. Talismanic vs. Ojama

Majespecter vs. Vision HERO vs. CAN:D

Infernity vs. Void vs. Volcanic

⁂

BRACKET D

High Tech Dragon vs. Gunkan vs. Gagaga

Megalith vs. Sushi Fairy vs. Anti

Ninja vs. Earthbound vs. Gladiator Beast

Frightfur vs. Archfiend vs. Synchron

Dinomist vs. Ursarctic vs. Gouki

D/D vs. Helixx vs. Raidraptor

Witchcrafter vs. Gold Pride vs. D-Scale

Gimmick Puppet vs. Cloudian vs. Mermail

War Rock vs. Utopia vs. Armatos Legio

Drytron vs. Gandora vs. Infernoid

Steelswarm vs. Battleguard vs. Superheavy Samurai

Blackwing vs. Smile vs. Cyber Dragon

True King vs. Cyberdark vs. Alien

Magician Girl vs. Koa’ki Meiru vs. Performapal

Parshath vs. Galactica vs. Vylon

Cubic vs. Fairy Tail vs. Reptilianne

⁂

BRACKET E

Galaxy vs. White vs. Skysavior

Thorn Prisoner vs. Supreme King vs. SPYRAL

Burning Abyss vs. U.A. vs. Melffy

Phantom Knights vs. Simorgh vs. Red-Eyes

Destiny HERO vs. Mokey Mokey vs. Evilswarm

Fusion Dragon vs. Zubaba vs. Frog

Clear vs. Adamancipator vs. Fire King

Dogmatika vs. Jersey vs. Duston

Floowandereeze vs. Valkyrie vs. Abyss Actor

Prediction Princess vs. Magikey vs. Six Samurai

Wind-Up vs. Danger! vs. Lightsworn

Gishki vs. Xyz Dragon vs. Vanquish Soul

Altergeist vs. Machina vs. Springans

Spellbook vs. Magnum Overlord vs. Nekroz

Herald vs. Arts Angel vs. Rikka

Evolsaur vs. Performage vs. Cynet

⁂

BRACKET F

Eldlitch vs. Ancient Warriors vs. Penguin

F.A. vs. Codebreaker vs. Kozmo

Evil HERO vs. Topologic vs. Qliphort

Igknight vs. Vampire vs. Dark Contract

Dracoslayer vs. Shiranui vs. Fur Hire

Dododo vs. Kairyu-Shin vs. Toon

Fortune Lady vs. Jurrac vs. Amorphage

Melodious vs. Amazement vs. Thunderbeetle

Evolzar vs. Pendulum Dragon vs. Ice Barrier

Gem-Knight vs. Ewekai vs. Djinn

Gusto vs. Starry Knight vs. Tearlaments

Sevens Road vs. Odd-Eyes vs. Zoodiac

Exodia vs. Super Quant vs. Karakuri

Nemleria vs. Monarch vs. Lyrilusc

Scareclaw vs. Nephthys vs. Salamangreat

Hazy Flame vs. Dracoverlord vs. Vaylantz

⁂

BRACKET G

Plunder Patroll vs. Warrior vs. Butterspy

Libromancer vs. Harpie vs. Runick

Evoltile vs. Symphonic Warrior vs. Gadget

Borrel vs. True Draco vs. Dinowrestler

Morphtronic vs. Prank-Kids vs. Laval

Atlantean vs. Materiactor vs. Dinomorphia

Hieratic vs. Myutant vs. Darklord

Cyber Angel vs. Gizmek vs. Labyrinth

Heroic vs. Phantom Beast vs. Edge Imp

Granel vs. Artifact vs. Constellar

Elemental HERO vs. Goyo vs. Ally of Justice

Watt vs. Knightmare vs. Marincess

Sylvan vs. Elementsaber vs. Photon

Ghostrick vs. Vendread vs. Buster Blader

Aroma vs. Wisel vs. Mirror Imagine

Worm vs. Amazoness vs. Yosenju

⁂

BRACKET H

Metalfoes vs. Flower Cardian vs. Ultimate Flag

Royal Rebel’s vs. Solfachord vs. Dragunity

Rose Dragon vs. New Order vs. Exosister

C vs. Windwitch vs. Spright

Dream Mirror vs. Transamu vs. Metaphys

Naturia vs. Graydle vs. Venom

@Ignister vs. Battlin’ Boxer vs. Lunalight

Junk vs. Time Thief vs. Rescue-ACE

Chronomaly vs. Destruction Sword vs. Phantasm Spiral

Masked HERO vs. Tenyi vs. Tellarknight

Trickstar vs. Gogogo vs. Attraction

Cipher vs. Vehicroid vs. Deskbot

Invoked vs. Elemental Lord vs. X-Saber

Resonator vs. Stardust vs. Fabled

Geargia vs. ZW - vs. Fluffal

Pendulum Magician vs. Shadow Flower vs. Paleozoic

[mz-elysium]

[photo ID: starry deep space, a glowing white title and mysterious emblem, Architects of Destiny]

Guardians make their own fate.

[AO3 LINK]

After the mythological Golden Age came the Collapse. Humanity has all but fallen and the silent dead god known only as the Traveler hangs in the sky. The Last City is protected by Guardians, supersoldiers powered by the Traveler’s Light and risen from the dead — and the last defense of the Sol System against invaders.

The Darkness does not come as an invading army,  though. It comes wearing familiar faces. It promises majesty. It claims to be correct. One Guardian clan finds themselves facing alien gods of flesh and machine, and the Darkness itself before it can bring about a second Collapse.

Origin: Destiny 1 and 2 (mostly canon compliant; video games need some stern words to become narratives; also fandom-blind)

Genre: scifi fantasy, hopepunk, post-apocalyptic, superhero

Includes: sprawling ensemble class, prattling philosophy on human nature, baby aliens, tragedy, love as a superpower, death isn’t the worst thing that can happen, betrayal, corruption and downfall.

○○○

The Architect Clan

[photo ID: a soldier with a rifle fading away into electric blue haze; titled with the name Leo]

Titan // Exo // arc, void, (solar)

I am the soldier in the war-that-never-ends.

A Titan who has trusted in the Traveler to bring them salvation, one day. For three hundred years, he watched a village grow into the Last City. Refugees rediscovered civilization. And, other Guardians became their heroes. He patrolled the walls. Just another faceless brick in them.

Now, he is thrust into the limelight as a hero, his name sung along with the likes of Saint-14, Lord Saladin, Commander Zavala. The weight is more than he can bear.

[photo ID: a cloaked wanderer in a desert with a glowing helmet; titled with the name Q]

Hunter // human // solar, void

Come home.

No one ever damn well asked Q if he wanted to be risen from the dead. He liked being dead. Who wants to be a soldier? Who wants to spend their second life in the mud and blood? He couldn’t give a shit about the hungry masses. They could rot. He would jump into his ship and fly as far as he could. Explore. Map unknown worlds. He had been chosen for a reason. He must’ve been important in another life and damn it, he would find out.

Oh. But why does his clan insist on the most dangerous strike operations? Why must they all be so eager to jump into the pit? Someone needs to ensure they come home.

[photo ID: a woman silhouetted against a stained glass purple supernova; titled with the name Cerys]

Warlock // Awoken // void

Mercy gives teeth to the evil and the weak-hearted.

A thrillseeker and Crucible champion, she was always out of place among the Warlocks. She joined the Praxic Order and their inquisitions out of a dim sense of duty. Without a scholarly pursuit, she figured she should do something. As the threat of Dark-corrupted Guardians grows — and finds a home in her mirror — she comes into a crisis of faith. Rises above it as a devout Praxic. She returns to her training and inquisitions with new conviction.

War cannot be won by the moral bankruptcy that began it.

[photo ID: a man in an ash-storm clutching a fireball streaking like a comet; titled with the name Ember]

Sunbreaker // Human // solar and more solar

The Traveler made Lightbearers. We made Guardians.

The Sunbreaker Clan was myth. Rogue Lightbearers who left the Last City in exodus over heated disagreements on religion and philosophy. Centuries later, their legend is of barbarian mercenaries of the forbidden Titan solar paradigm.

Ember was never the best of them — the strongest, the smartest, the kindest — but he is the last. Brutal and sarcastic, his mean streak earns him few friends. Grudgingly, he returns to the Last City, where he is an exile among strangers.

○○○

Completed Works

[photo ID: an alien warrior in a helmet with a spindly sigil and six glowing eyes; titled as House of Wolves]

Q rises from the dead and challenges the callous doctrine of war, even as his fireteam try to impart their ways. [35k words]

[photo ID: an endless pocket dimension of a flower field; titled as Black Garden]

The mythical Black Garden is open and its Dark heart whispers to the Last City. [13k words]

[photo ID: a macabre alien city with honeycombed windows and pods, almost like an insect colony; titled as The Taken King]

The Hive God-King comes in vengeance for his killed son, bringing a new dimension to the horrors of the Guardians’ war. [61k words]

[photo ID: a robed figure overlooks a series of snowy firepits and stately old flags; titled as Rise of Iron]

Leo’s obedience lands him under the eyes of the last Iron Lord, who asks for help avenging his sacred extinct order. [22k words]

○○○

Art credits: Unsplash for title and characters; Destiny concept/advertising art as made by Bungie/Activsion for work titles.