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kpoplrcfiles · 1 year

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[Single] DANI (박혁진) & Kei (케이) - New York

[Single] DANI (박혁진) & Kei (케이) - New York Release Date: 2022.03.23 Genre: Ballad Language: Korean Track List: 01. New York Download .lrc file here:

DANI (박혁진) & Kei (러블리즈) – New YorkRelease Date: 2022.03.23Genre: BalladLanguage: Korean Track List:01. New YorkDownload .lrc file here:Link 1

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phantoms-world-and-more · 1 year

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Danny big brother to damian

Danal is a prodigy, he can adapt to any situation, follow muscle movements with ease. He has a laid back, sassy and cheerful personality, and is the nicest person in the league, but you piss him off may god have mercy.

When damian was born Danal fell in love with him and became more of a caretaker than talia when it came to damian.

Whenever damian had trouble with a movement Danal patiently helped him, when he hit his 'why' phase as a child Danal was the only one who could be around him. He was the only one who could get damian to smile, damian adored Danal and wanted to be like him. Strong and deadly but that didnt stop him from being kind and helpful.

Ra saw that while yes Danal and him butt heads more often than not, he was far more perfect as an hair than damian and decided to use that.

He planned to execute damian in front of danny to break him. What he didnt expect was for Danal to interfear and take the killing blow for him.

Damian had to watch his big brother, the person who tought him what love is, cared for him, gave him the best training, and now Danal gave his life for his. Danal told him in his last words how much he was proud of him. How damian is stronger than he thinks and how loving him was worth it even if it got him killed.

Damian believes a peice of him died with Danal that day.

No one checked if danal was alive after the final blow, but if they did they wound see there was a little bit of life left on him, so when talia took Danals body to the Lazarus pit it did something else.

DAMIAN:

After Danals death damin became the most aggressive person in the league, attacking anyone who came to close or bad mouthed Danal

He has a box in his room with things Danal owned/ made together / gift from him

When Bruce took damian and introduced him as brothers to the rest of the batfam he lost it, started yelling saying that their not his brothers

Damian resents talia for not helping Danal or at least not stopping him

Damian hates Ra more than anything

After damian warmed up to the batfam he refused to call them brother, he called them family but not brother

Damian refuses to tell bruce that he had another son, as a form of punishment for not being there for him

Damian has a map of the stars because Danal loved space

Damian tries to incorporate Danals fighting style into his, but since he didnt learn much he failed alot of the time, whenever anyone asked about it they were met with a knife

Damian agreed with bruce on how to love and is more familiar with love, and it confuses everyone where he learned to love

Damian is fearsomely protective of anything to to with Danal

There are 2 days of the year that people leave damian alone no matter what Danals birthday and his death anniversary

Danal showed damiam pictures of different animals as a kid and thats why he loves them

After a few years damian learns to some-what accepts danals death

Damian refused to blam himself for danals death even if he believes it to be true, danal wouldnt want that

Danals last words ring in his ear " loving you is worth eveything little brother, even my life, I'll never stop loving you

DANAL /DANNY

Danal woke in the ghost Zone after talia put him in the Lazarus pit with no memory of before, but subsequent knowledge of everything before; knew how to fight/cook/write/read/ be assasin/ what the Lazarus pit is but dosent know how he knowes this or have any memories

Danny wanders around encouraging ghosts till he finds the perfect place for his lair and builds it

He finds the fenton portal and decides to go through it

He discovered his obssession was protecting people he cared about

He traveled between the ghost zome and human relm with a lot more subtlety than the other ghosts

During his years as amity park protector he discovered new powers, he can change into a human form, ice powers, duplicates, something similar to clockworks ability to see everything, ghostly wail and how to control it, how to make portals throught the infinite realms and alot more

He always felt like something was missing and after protecting amity for a while he made a truse with the other ghosts and decided to traved the infinite realms

For reasons he cant explain he continues to train his physical body in the martial art style he knowes

He loves animals for reasons he cant say and loves to play with them

He has more allies due to them knowing what his obssession is

#danny phantom #fic prompt #daily prompt #dc x dp #danny fenton #batman #dp x dc #damian wayne #ra al ghul #talia al ghul #Danal al ghul #damian al ghul

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boobsthief · 4 months

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#Danica danalli

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biteghost · 8 months

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Commission: Waist-up sketch for Necrologist featuring their character Danal Librod (he/him).

Commission Info 🔹 Patreon

#commissions #waist up commission #not my characters #art #sketch #necrologist #Danal Librod

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khuantru · 1 year

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opening song for 📺: 'One Dollar Lawyer': MV I 김경호 (KIM Kyung Ho) - 천원짜리 변호사 (1000won Lawyer) | 천원짜리 변호사 OST Part.4 or search for '1000 won Lawyer by Kim Kyung Ho'

channel: Danal Entertainment

#Danal Entertainment #One Dollar Lawyer #KIM Kyung Ho #1000won Lawyer #OST

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therandomartmaker · 2 months

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DPxDC, of dead hearts and brothers.

danny is damian’s older brother au; reincarnation type. danyal is the soft-hearted but still exemplary heir, but convinces ra’s that it is better to have him be the right-hand to damian, losing his heirship. ra’s, having danny as his favourite (cough danny and his inability to not be involved with old creeps lmao) allows him this; thinking that it’d allow danyal to be protected and also give him another option for youth (taking over damian’s body, afo-shigaraki style /hj)

this is all fine and dandy until ra’s decides damian has reached an equal skill to danyal’s stagnant training, and sets up a fight to the death. the lazarus pits are always there for the al ghul family, after all. he expects danyal to win. he expects damian to learn that all of his children are disposable. precious, but tools for ra’s’ use (all except precious danyal, the heart that kept giving).

danyal dies, damian’s sword stabbed into his heart, his last advice to “drive it in harder.” and his last words, “congratulations, brother.”

they bring him to lazarus pit, but it takes him. he sinks into the pool of acrid green and they wait; hours. a day. a week. he doesn’t resurface. they continue waiting because what else are they to do? they are al ghuls, not danal. not precious danyal who could mourn.

this proceeds, a sigil at the pit’s edge once a month, waiting for the lost son to return; but eventually damian is brought before the bat (far less dramatic, ra’s was tired of damian’s growing frustration without danyal to soothe him but no assassin’s had the same emotional state as danyal to provide a pseudo-sibling to play the same role; thus the bats’ family was the next option)

the bats only find out abt danyal when damian sets up for a day of fasting, facing the direction of the pit.

it’s dick who asks why he is fasting, and damian explains calmly. They learn of the boy who knew kindness, of the al ghul’s heart, of the prodigal heir turned advisor to damian. they learn of damian’s brother. when they find out why he’s dead, horror drips down their spines, at damian being forced to kill someone who’d only done good for him.

damian has one thing to say; “Danyal’s advice was not ‘how to kill’. i killed far better than he, after all. i was efficient, but danyal worked cleaner. Danyal’s advice… was ‘to kill your heart.’”

time moves on; damian is adjusted to ‘outside life’ far easier, danyal taught him how to interact with others and understand that words are rarely literal. the lazarus pits are quiet, madness unlikely in those brought from it, and jason affected far less in the long term. until one day there is a knock at the manor door.

alfred opens it, to see a dark haired young adult, assassins’ garb, injured. he does not seem conscious. alfred brings him in; calling the rest to reach a decision on how to treat him, and what his intentions are.

Damian wakes up to the sight of his brother in the moment that damian killed him.

#randomartmaker rambles #randomartmaker writing #dpxdc #dcxdp #dpxdc prompt #short story #small story #btw damian is suffer survivor’s guilt so bad #sometimes he wonders if the fact that he’d crushed danny’s heart so much that the lazarus pits chose to punish him for harming a kind soul

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witchdantaleon · 7 months

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Ominis and Danale being cute during pregnancy 🥹

She is pregnant with two cute twins.

Small Gaunt.

Ominis and Danale are eagerly awaiting the arrival of their two babies, they don't know yet if they are boys or girls but they will love them equally regardless of their gender.

Danale took a break from the Ministry of Magic and Ominis works double time at the Ministry (even though he's bloody rich, he doesn't want to depend on the Gaunt's wealth).

She doesn't usually sleep well because her babies are so restless, though she doesn't complain because she's the same way.

#ominis gaunt #ominis x mc #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts oc #hl mc #oc

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dailyexo · 1 year

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youtube

Chen - 221128 SBS 'First Responders’ (SBS ‘소방서 옆 경찰서’) OST 'Heaven for You’ Music Video

Credit: Danal Entertainment.

#EXO #EXO M #Chen #221127 #exo vid #exo m vid #chen vid #official update #youtube update #v:official #music video #heaven for you music video #comeback:Fight

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casuallivi · 2 years

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TTYLTOYD chapter 5

Words: 5178

Enjoy. Comments are welcome and cherished :)

Part 5: Of Friends, Bonfires and Night Creatures

The Vallaghen residence housed a single person, Mrs. Vallaghen.

Mrs. Vallaghen was a short, brown skin elder, with mud-green hair and light green eyes, who Elain liked very much. They first met when Elain helped her to organize and donate her late son belongings, who had perished in battle just like Elain’s father. At the time, the two women worked in silence for a week, hands busy sorting items, grieving the loss of different loved ones. When the job was done, Mrs. Vallaghen invited Elain for tea.

Tea became lunch.

Lunch became dinner.

Mrs. Vallaghen talked.

Elain listened.

Alicia Vallaghen’s eyes were sad as she talked about war, but they wrinkled with a wistful smile as she recalled cherished memories of the gone. The woman spoke dearly of her son, Danall, an adored only child conceived after 276 years of loving marriage, who grow into a fire-spirited warrior. Strong enough to serve in the Second Fae Battalion, following the footsteps of his father. The woman spoke dearly of her husband, Elden, an ex-swordsmith, who became a soldier during a rebellion against the former High Lord. Elain learned that said rebellion was suppressed quickly, but Elden developed a taste for the job, ending up fighting alongside Rhysand in the war that culminate in the construction of the wall.

Both men never returned from the battlefield.

“We cannot bring back those who left us, dear. We can only keep their memory alive, pass their story forward. Whenever we are ready.” she added the last part with a knowing look, as if she knew that Elain had a heart as heavy as hers. Elain only nodded, her wound still fresh to be touched.

Alicia and Elain continue to meet every other week to share a meal, company or knowledge, a precious friendship blooming between them.

Elain taught Alicia how grow a garden, how to tend to chrysanthemum and carnations, how to mix the correct leaves and brew them to eliminate the ache in her lower back, how to bake a light banana tart that allowed an enjoyable afternoon nap, how to keep bottled vegetables preserved for longer. In return, Alicia taught Elain Prythian’s history. Precious pieces of information learned along centuries of careful study.

Much like Nesta, Alicia was a bookworm. She loved them enough to start working as a Reparateur – a person responsible for reconstructing old books. Elain always smiled noticing how much she loved her job, how fascinated she was by the things she learned. Alicia talked passionately about the meticulous work of transcribing knowledge that have been around for a millennium, the different kinds of damage an archive could suffer, the intricate spells used to reveal spent ink, remove hard smudges and revert burn marks.

A delicate job where one could perpetuate of destroy legacies.

Today, as they enjoyed a calm afternoon chatting over tea and biscuits, Alicia made a comment that jolted Elain.

“My friends call me the forgotten librarian for working in the innermost part of one,” she smiled, fond of the nickname, then her eyes grew distant, heavy. “But I’m more than that. I’m an everlasting open door to the future, I know everything that can happen for the rest of my immortal life – a time portal, if you may.”

Elain tensed in her rocket chair, tea freezing inside her mug. The crackling fire roared slightly, watching, waiting. “Are you,” she cleared her throat, careful to lower her voice, “are you a seer?” Her mind was racing, full of expectation, question buzzing in her brain.

Are you like me?

Are you my companion?

Are you my teacher?

“A seer?” Alicia repeated, surprised by the question. “By the cauldron, no, I’m not a seer. There are no seers alive since the fall of the eight court, darling. The only thing I can see is the past, for I read about it.” She finished emphasizing the words ‘see’ and ‘read’, her green eyes lit with wisdom.

Unnoticed by the elder, the fire diminished to its original form as Elain slouched in her chair, feeling her hope extinguishing as the small flames licking the stone.

Alicia continued. “What I’m trying to tell you, is that the past contains a trace of every possible future. All that we know, all that we learn, is to be used as inspiration or as a warning sign, because time is like a clock coming in full circle to start again where it once was. Know your past and future is unpredictable no more. Have I told you about king Havien, the conqueror? He was a male who took pride in his understanding of time, using the failures of his predecessors to fuel his success. He was the only king of Hybern to–”

Elain tuned out, listening to her words half-heartedly, a single sentence looping in her mind.

There are no seers alive.

Elain left the elder’s house with a heavy heart, loneliness creping in. A loneliness that Elain worked hard to keep at bay. She shook her head, doing her best to not let the bad thoughts take over. After her love life went downhill –again– Elain kept busy, doing her best to move on. She worked to control and understand her dreams and visions, helped in the gardens around town, taught the children at the orphanage, worked in Mellinda’s bakery, she studied natural medicine, history, new languages. But no matter how much she worked, nothing felt quite right as before. Elain felt numb. Void of something that she couldn’t quite place her head around. The hollow in her chest was a constant companion. No matter what she did, it did not go away.

The wind blew cold and heartless, gloom as her mood, tugging her hair in different directions. She was still living with Feyre when Cerridwen found her in front of a mirror with half of her hair mangled, wrestling with a pair of scissors. "Let it go." The Seer growled chopping the strands, Elain snarling and trying to control her hands, watching herself working the scissor on the outside world as if she was trapped inside the mirror. A memory played in her mind. A maid parting her hair, combing each side a hundred times while her mother smile proudly on the side. “A woman’s beauty lies in her hair. You’ll understand it when you are older.” If her mother could see her now, she would faint. Cerridwen had kindly offer to fix the cut, Elain ending up with a bob, her waves curling above her shoulders without the extra length weighting them down. Since then the hair had grown a little, enough that she could tie it back without the elastic falling down.

Elain stopped and stared at the familiar white gates, surprised to found herself in front of the Townhouse. She wondered how the garden was faring here. It had been months since she last took care of it, and just because no one was occupying the place now, it didn’t mean the house would seat empty for long. She pushed the gate and walked in. Her boots were off the second she stepped into the porch, enjoying the wood temperature swiping through her socks. She turned the doorknob and padded her way through the hallway.

To her surprise, Cerridwen and Nuala were on the floor of the siting room, a mess of papers, parchments, waxes and stamps scattered between them.

“Good evening!” she beamed, happy to see her friends.

Their heads snapped up.

“Good evening, my soft feet friend.” Nuala grinned.

“How did you get in?” Cerridwen questioned.

“The door was open.” Elain answered casually, draping her coat on the back of the sofa. Her eyes fell on the book at the center table. Her book. Valoar Heafther, The Forgotten Tongue Volume 1. She had brought the book here the day the girls went on their mission, thinking the quiet house would be a better place to focus on the new language. Once here, all she could think about were moments shared in the dead of night, the book forgotten in the same page for the rest of the day. “I thought you wouldn’t be back for another month.”

“So did I.” Nuala grumbled. “Nothing but smoke and mirrors, I tell you. Now we’re stuck with a shitload of paper again. Just my luck.”

“Every part of the job is important.” Cerridwen reprimanded her sister.

“But not every part is fun. Pity we hit a dead end.” Nuala stretched, bracing herself on her palms, a mischievous glint taking over her black eyes. “You know, there were two Peregryns near where I was stationed. They trained every day as the sun came up, fully armed and everything. Those magnificent wings of white feathers, chests covered with a golden armor, gleaming under the sunlight, the sword sequences making their veins pop out,” she sighed theatrically, her corporeal body solidifying further, exhibiting a dreamy expression. “There’s just something about winged males, don’t you think?”

Elain averted her eyes, trying to keep her face neutral, a traitorous flush giving her away. “You are evil.”

Nuala snickered, earning a slap from her sister. Elain hugged her friend as a thank you. “I simple jest, my better half, no need for violence.” The mischievous wraith tuned to Elain, knocking her down in a tight embrace, smacking her cheeks loudly. “Did you come to save me from boredom?” Elain laughed at the melodramatics.

The twins similarities ended in their appearance. Like Elain, Cerridwen was friendly in a reserved and contained manner, tending to observe and keeping her analysis to herself unless she was asked about it. Nuala, on the other hand, was a small hurricane of mischief, adept to interruptions, eager to share and propense to lots of physical contact. The girls had never hidden from her. Once Elain decided to learn how to lead her new life, Nuala and Cerridwen were nothing if not genuine and honest, never treating her like a broken doll, making her feel stupid for having questions, making her feel crazy for not understanding what was happening to herself. Their friendship changed her life in dimensions they could not imagine.

“Stop that.” The more Elain tried to wiggle away, the more kisses she won “Gods, you’re strong. I came for the garden, plants also like to receive attention and love.” She gave two affectionate slaps on Nuala’s bum, finishing with another frustrated attempt to be free. Invoking her best puppy eyes, she called for Cerridwen. “Help. Please.”

The other wraith tugged her sister away, who still tried to cling to Elain, panting, “bring me that pile before you leave!” frenetically pointing at the armchair

Elain placed the papers in front of Nuala, curiosity leading her to scan the chaos, trying to judge how classified it was before going outside. If they had no qualms about her touching stuff, those papers were not hidden information, but what she liked to think as in-your-face-information. The type one had to piece together in order to gain advantage. She opened the shed going straight to her gardening boots and the box of tools, still thinking back to the unsorted paperwork. She had spied piles from Day, Dawn and Spring. The faint mark of a black skull on a few paper corners. A map of the border with the continent. A pen engraved with diamonds. Coded letters. She wrinkled her nose smelling her fingertips. The pile from the armchair had faint scent of melted snow and anger washed by the rain.

She rummaged the soil plucking all the exceeding weed, trimmed bushes, cut twigs and fixed the sprinkles where a part of the hose had disconnected. When she was satisfied with her work, Elain cleaned the tools and put everything back to their original places, returning to the house. She took a quick glance at her friends on her way to the kitchen. The twins worked in synchrony, a strong sisterhood transcending to the work field, perfected by centuries of life. Elain admired them a lot. Her lips shaped in a sad smile.

Elain loved her sisters with her whole heart, and they loved her back. The problem was their bond was strained, disrupted by ugly cracks born during poverty, cracks that never fully healed. The Archerons had an implicit family motto: Be strong. No matter what you are going through, be strong. That’s how the sisters had operated since their father’s downfall, doing whatever was necessary to survive, never letting other see how broken you were on the inside, making them distance themselves from the world – and sometimes, from each other. That’s how they end up hurting each other again and again, waiting for a proper time to slowly come back together. Not to apologize and make peace, but to bury the hurtful things said and done, and pretend nothing happened.

Honestly, the dynamic made her tired to the bone.

Elain was over faking and playing pretend.

Her new goal was to be more honest.

Honest with herself and with the people around her.

Elain was searching the cabinets for provisions, planning on making a simple meal for the three of them when Nuala pushed through the double doors.

“What are you doing?”

“Dinner.”

“Where are you going after?”

“Home.” The wraith grinned. “What?”

It felt like someone had gathered a thousand fireflies and released them in the same place. The small colorful creatures zoomed in the air making it seem like she could touch stars, their presence illuminating scant path in the woods.

“Where are we going?” Elain breathed in awe.

Nuala and Cerridwen traded arms with her, guiding her through the sinuous trail.

“You’ll see.”

They walked in pleasant silence, the tranquil sounds of nature accompanying their steps. The twins were fully corporeal tonight, silky black hair flowing straight behind them, glowing dark skin contrasting beautifully with a combination of white. Mini white. The skirt ended along with the curve of their asses, and the blouse – if Elain could even call that piece of fabric a blouse – was a white spaghetti strap crop top completely embroidered with pearls, the look paired with silk golden sandals. Her friends were all toned arms, shaped legs and flat bellies in display. Elain looked down at her covered tummy.

They had dressed her in similar manner, except her skirt length went all the way to her calves, and her blouse had larger straps with just the hint of a V neckline. Still, when Elain saw the outfit, she tried to run from it, Nuala begging her to give it a try, promising she would give her a jacket if Elain felt too uncomfortable. Elain checked herself in the mirror turning to a tomato seeing so much skin exposed, pulling her skirt high enough cover her belly button, the evident contour of belly and hips making her nervous. At least her breasts were small, making them perfectly covered by white and pearls.

Her ears twitched, capturing the lazy sound of waves crashing.

They emerged on a beach.

“Welcome to Sehyr. Well, Sehyr’s beach.” Elain remembered seeing the name on a map. If memory served, Sehyr was a small city situated in the coast of Night Court.

The first thing Elain notice was the smell. It smelled delicious. A mix of roasted meat and spices mingling with burning fire wood, a whiff of rosemary and garlic butter making her stomach growl. As the scents filled her nose, music filled the air. Guitars, drums, flutes, singers, a mismatched combination that somehow went well together, coaxing the fae to dance and sing along. Long wood tables were set opposite to the water, foods and drinks from every shape and color covering the surfaces, dozens of bonfires extended along the beach, logs and colorful towels spread around them, males and females lazing in the cushion –eating, drinking, talking…making out.

Nuala took her to the food table before easing around one of the bonfires, sitting on a colorful pink towel and pressing their backs against a log. Her cheeks flushed when she spied a particular couple rolling on the sand, the male’s hand having disappeared under the female’s dress, Elain’s keen ears capturing her moans and the soft slap of flesh. She averted her eyes, looking up, finding sparkling little blue flags dangling from the sky.

"You'll crack your neck bending like that, my friend." Nuala sang, entertained by her attempt to gaze away.

“What are they celebrating?”

“We are celebrating Ayala.”

“Who is that?”

“A small goddess from The Forgotten,” Cerridwen answered appearing beside her holding a suspicious bottle of yellow liquid with a scorpion siting on the bottom.

“Why can’t you get us a normal drink?” her sister complained.

“There’s no fun in that.” Her attention returned to Elain. “Ayala is worshipped by the lesser fae as a river goddess, blesser of sailors, but also a patron of conception.”

“One of those things is not like the others,” Elain commented, interested in the story. “What sailing has to do with conception?” She took a bite of her meat, moaning. It was delicious.

“A Thousand of years ago Ayala fell in love with a fishermale, a simple lesser fae. She started to provide him with extraordinary skills. The fishermale, who had never caught a thing before, turned in to an amazing sailor and an even better fisher in the blink of an eye. He could fish anything, even creatures not native from our coast. He thought he had discovered magic.”

“The kind of magic only they High Fae possess,” Nuala took the lead. “His ego blown. He boasted everywhere he went, calling faes from the whole court to watch him. The tides were never violent if he was on the water. One day, a lord from another court took interest in him, setting the male to marry his daughter, thinking he would be able to bread the power into his family. When Ayala realized he married another, she cried for seven days and seven nights, stopping only because the full mon appeared. The goddess saw her reflection on the moon, and as revenge for the pain he had cause, she decided to give him pain. From that day on the seas turned so turbulent no fishermale was able to go inside, the city started to starve, and when the people begged for mercy, she sent a storm to destroy his village.”

Elain gasped in shock.

“The fishermale, who had been away for years, discovered what happened to his home and returned. There he kneeled in front of the sea, asked what he had to do to calm the waters that still ragged. Ayala appeared to him, said he should deliver his first born in her hands or else no one would ever know peace outside dry land. The problem was the male’s wife could not get pregnant. “Then bring me your wife.” The goddess demanded. When the wife got there, Ayala braided a crown with seaweed, told her to use it before laying with her husband.”

“Did she?” Elain asked curious. Her friend nodded.

“Ayla forbid them from leaving until they payed, so the fishermale built a cabin near the beach, and the goddess watched them live. The thing is, while watching the couple, the goddess fell in love with the female too. When the child was born, the female cried for mercy, and Ayala, now in love, let her keep the child, promising to bless him with protection from water creatures as long as they stayed in cabin. The couple stay, more people came, a village was born, then a city and Ayala never sent another deadly storm. Now they celebrate a festival in her name during the seventh full moon of the year, and lovers come from everywhere to be blessed by her, especially those who are trying for children.”

Elain was to immersed in the tale to stop the wraith from stealing food from her plate. She thought about how fickle the fae were. A jealous goddess tried to steal a child and now she was a symbol of fertility and bless to newborns. What a joke.

“Don’t make that face, you’ll like it. There’s food and dancing all night long, and when the couples feel her presence, they fuck on the spot, where everybody can witness their love being blessed."

Nuala wicked grin was erased by Cerridwen slap.

"Don't scare her."

"It's true!"

"We don't have to stay for the coupling ritual El, don't worry. We can just participate in the offering and drink our sorrows away."

That caught Elain’s attention again.

"What are you sorrowful about?" she asked curiously.

"Danna dumped her." Her sister meddled.

"No!" Elain cried.

“She didn’t dump me, we had a fight.”

Elain didn’t know exactly how the two lovers met, but she knew Cerridwen and Danna had an on and off relationship because the other was soldier from Day and Cerridwen may or may not have been responsible for her brother, a Third General in Command, being dismissed from the force. She hugged her friend. “Don’t worry Cece, you will work it out.”

“She will drink it out. Come on ladies, the night awaits.”

As the hours slipped past then, Elain relaxed more and more. The three of them happily shared a variety of roasted meat, bread, jam and fruit, laughing and clapping at the musician who found himself too inebriated to sing the right rhymes, slurring his lines and constantly slapping the tambourine player. Elain was relaxed, feeling looser from the alcohol, laughter coming in easier. She grabbed the glass beside Cerridwen, who tracked the movement without lifting her eyes from two females kissing.

“That’s mine.”

“Sharing is caring.”

She chugged the whole thing at once, grimacing at the bitter aftertaste. Mother above, why create a drink this bitter? She wondered. Elain liked red wine much better. Cerridwen filled the glass again, Elain politely refusing the offer to share.

“I want to dance!” Nuala screeched already pulling Elain to her feet.

The full moon illuminated the dancing bodies, the music evolving to a happy crescendo. They twisted and twirled to the rhythm, and for the first time in months Elain felt light. Happy. Her sandals were gone. She smiled and laughed, imitating goofy steps, her feet tangling on the complicated ones. Nuala tried to pull her skirt down to her waist, claiming “beauty should not be covered,” and Elain tried to give her a head lock, like Cassian so often did on every who stand near his big arms. The wraith turned to mist on the last second, Elain falling down as result. She laughed louder, sand clinging to her sweaty skin. That’s when she saw it. A glimpse in the woods. A pair of eyes.

Elain was back in woods. She had no memory of leaving her friends, leaving the beach, but as she looked around, she could not see or hear the festival. Her body move, feet dragging her to… Where? Where was she going? Her breath quickened, her heart speed up. She tried to stop, to turn back. It was no use. Elain walked until her apparent destination, casually kicking rocks along the way, black night-jasmine blooming around her feet. She stopped, crouched and waited. The wind hollowed, the air crackling with a tense energy, the metallic tang of old powerful magic in the tip of her tongue. A thunder split the sky in two. That’s when he appeared.

A fat white cat sauntered in her direction, the oddest pair of blue eyes fixed on her, the air sizzling in his awake. The weight of his presence pressed down on her, invisible nails scratching her skull from the inside, trying to dissect her. He felt like laughing at his cute attempt, pushing his presence away with the flick of a hand. Her eyes were no longer hers. They had turned white. Her lips where no longer hers. They began to move own their own.

"Hello," she greeted with a knowing smile. "I've been waiting for you."

The cat regarded her with the hostility of an enemy sizing his opponent, pacing from one side to the other, inpatient pawns scratching the earth leaving violent gashes.

"What is your name?" he meowed, striking blue eyes glinting with challenge, pristine white fur scintillating under the moonlight. “You won’t tell me…or you can’t?” she challenged back. “What’s the matter? The cat got your tongue?”

The cat hissed. Now she laughed at him. Although she should not meddle with the Present, the Seer often tip-toed the line of indiscipline, her competitive vein leading the peculiar creature to be prone to defiance. She gave Elain constant headaches. The Seer cleaned fake tears from her eyes.

"It doesn’t matter. You shouldn't be here, you know.” Not yet. “Go back."

Her relaxed demeaner disappeared with the order. She lifted her index –hand covered in a shimmering white aura, making it look like Elain was wearing tulle gloves –and touched the cat’s forehead, power sizzling from her to the animal who found himself sucked into a void. A flock of crows took flight into the night, the humming displaced energy being extinguished, the clogging presence gone. Crickets chirped unaware of what had just visited the forest.

Elain panted feeling exhausted, looking around, not understanding where she was. She blinked the fog away slowly, searching the beach where she had been seconds before, no sign of music or faes or bonfires.

What was she doing here?

Why was she alone?

“Why are you alone?”

Elain yelp covering her head as a reflex, her drumming pulse loud in her ears, making her slow to recognize the voice. The voice… She knew that voice. Elain peeked between her hands, Azriel’s strong body looming over her, enormous onyx wings raised and curved as a crescent moon, his shadow swallowing her shape completely. She breathed in relief, the rich and familiar scent of mist and cedar calming her anxiety.

“You scared me! Why do you move like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like, like,” she stammered trying to think of a word. “Like a wraith!”

Azriel chuckled.

“A wraith?”

“…lurking in the dark without making a noise,” she mumbled dusting of the sand from her arms, trying to fix the skirt which was now covered in natural whatnots, the hem splattered with mud. “Scaring the nightlights out of people…”

Elain stopped moving abruptly, freezing like a deer in the aim of a hunter.

Azriel was here!

Her belly was out, she was barefoot, she was dirty, sweaty, and mildly disorientated, and Azriel was here! She making a fool of herself in front of Azriel. Her eyes lifted quick as a lighting. A shivered ran down her arms when his glorious wings retracted, spreading to their full length before he tucked them tight behind his back. He was really here. No sign of his uniform tonight, no. Azriel was clad in black pants and a white shirt, the fabric strained over his chiseled body, delineating his muscles with the precision of a painting. She had never seen him wearing white before. The color fit him perfectly –not that Elain was a reliable judge, she thought he looked perfect in everything– the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows exposing a trail of tattoos she once dreamed of touching –with her lips– his hair perfectly combed back, not one curl out of place, the blue stones atop of his hand sitting there quietly.

Her heart drummed for a different reason now, loud as if it was trying to compete with the musicians down the beach. Thump, thump, thump.

Stop it! Stop that!

It didn’t. Elain sighed. She was done with her body not listening to her for the day.

“I can help you.”

“I can help her.” He said to her sisters in a lifetime ago.

She gave him an inquisitive look, watching him jerk his chin to her clothes, her hands still clenched to the dirty skirt. Azriel offered her a hand and Elain stared at it as if it was a mirage, one of her messy visions, except she couldn’t see the two of them. Only once she saw Azriel and herself, a moment of delightful pleasure where they shared a passionate kiss in the dead of the longest night of the year. A kiss that never came to happened. She swallowed nervously an accepted the offer, Azriel lifting her in a swift move, dropping her hand as quick as he took it.

Elain did not even had time to feel offended because shadows instantly surrounded her like bees coming to the hive.

“Mother’s tits,” Elain gasped in shock when the shadows woven themselves over her attire, the former white giving place to a deep black skirt. She ran a hand over it, the skirt smooth as a simple piece of fabric when in reality it was anything but. Elain laughed in delight, twirling to see if they would accompany the movement, feeling excited as a child watching a magic trick when they did.

“Thank you.” Azriel simple smiled, ducking his head. What do you say to the man who broke your heart? “Are you here for the celebration?” He nodded. Elain pushed a rebel curl behind her ear, a small pearl earring catching the moonlight. “Go on then.” She pointed to a vague direction waiting for him to start walking so she could follow, not wanting to say she had lost her way. His eyes dipped to her feet.

“Do you want me to fly you?”

“No.” She wheezed quickly. Gods, was she drunk? She couldn’t be drunk. Elain cleared her throat to sound normal. “No, thank you. I can walk.”

She pointed again, Azriel walking on the opposite direction. She followed. While trailing behind, Elain watched his boots, impressed that he was just as silent in the wild as he was on top of a carpet. She stepped on a pointy rock and winced, Azriel stopping abruptly.

“Let me fly you.” He requested with a worried tone. She twisted her hands nervously. No way she was flying with him. No way. That would be too much of him touching too much of her. “You wandered quite far.” He gave her a look she could not identify. “Outside the city.”

Elain looked around again, not recognizing a thing. There were no colorful fireflies in this part of the woods. She didn’t even know where she was, let alone how to get back to her friends or Velaris.

“Can’t we shadow-walk?” she asked, hopeful.

“We can.”

Again, Azriel offered Elain a hand.

And this time when she took it, he promptly intertwined his fingers with hers. His eyes burning with a longing so intense one would think she was the one who left him behind, not the opposite. His thumb slide against her skin once, a gesture he used to do so often her body ached with the familiarity of him. Hazel and brown were still lost on each other when they disappeared in shadows.

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mallybatingprogress · 10 months

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Danal flopped out her flaccid penis. It was soft and droopy. The foreskin sagging down over her bald-headed hermit like a loose and discolored slice of roast beef. She tooted softly as her cooch-cork let out a gentle stream of cloudy golden juices. The smell of putrid asparagus filled the air. Her hairy swamp nuts began to itch so she shook her wanker dry quickly, which caused her saggy brass clunkers to jiggle in the open air.

#porn.#literature #ocs #spilled thoughts #writing

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ashhawkburning · 1 year

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This mod fixes an issue in the DAO toolset's database where two conversation files (and thus their string entries) were empty. It will have no effect on the game itself, and is purely a modding resource.

The database provided with the DAO toolset has broken (empty) dialogue files for Kester, Bodahn, Danal (owner of Dane's Refuge in Lothering), and the Gnawed Noble Tavern's bartender (cir100_kester and main_rumour_man, which covers the latter three). The Single Player and core resource source files will also throw an error for these specific files if you try to import them from it using Builder-to-Builder Load.

This means that, other than not being able to view/edit those files (including all the rumours in the game), the String Editor in the toolset is also missing the strings from these conversations, meaning that exporting the singleplayer talktable from the toolset without these fixes will introduce problems in these conversations such as invisible subtitles (and possibly non-controllable conversations).

This mod is a Builder-to-Builder file containing fixed versions of these conversations that can be imported into the toolset to fix your own database files.

#dragon age #dragon age origins #dao #dragon age mods #dragon age origins mods #dao mods #my mods #my dao mods #dragon age toolset #dialogue #Bodahn Feddic #Kester #look at all those tasty rumours!

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phantoms-world-and-more · 1 year

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Damian brother is the ghost king

So Ra made damian and danny fight to the death for the tital of hair, but danny couldnt hurt damian and let him kill him, damian is traumatised by it. Ect;

On dannys end he lived has amnesia and lived with the fentons. Danny phantom happens, dannys parents accept who he is, he becomes ghost king ect;

What about the batfam, Ra al goul and talia al goul are all trapped in the ghost zone by a villian and have to work together to get home.

Theres a lot of fighting and yelling because of their past, damian has already told his family about Danal so when Ra mentions him as a jab to damian everyone looses their shit, talia included.

They find out to leave they need an audience with the newly crowned ghost king, and that phantom is their best chanse of getting home. They decide to suck it up and get along until they get home, then will proceed in killing eachother.

Ra has a plan to betray the batfam and become allies with the ghost king for power, talia knowes this so she warned bruce, who told the others, and now their all aware of his plan and are semi- racing to the gjost king so Ra dosent get an allie THAT powerful.

Then when their at phantoms keep their greeted by servant ghosts who tell them that the king is out, but is on the way. They decide to wait inside phantoms keep.

They all get in a fight again and just when bruce is about to punch Ra the doors open, Ra thinks this will be a good way to rurn the tabels and show the king that the bats arent trust worthy.

But when they turn they see, danal.

He has inverted colours, and is a little older. But its Danal.

Talia and damian are ready to cry. Ra's in shock that his plan has little to no chance of working. And the bats are curious why the Al gouls are acting this way.

Then damian lest out a broken whiesered "Danal?"

Danal tilts his head to the side in confusion and says " close, but you can call me danny, now who might you be? And how'd you get all the way to the ghost zone without a way back?"

Danal looks at them with no recognition, hes confused amd curious,.but dosent know them.

Damian crys

His brother dosent remember him

#danny phantom #fic prompt #daily prompt #dc x dp #danny fenton #batman #dp x dc #damian wayne #talia al ghul #ra al ghul #damian and danny twin #Danal al goul #danny has amnesia

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locustheologicus · 1 year

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The Grey Jedi and Jesuit Spirituality

There must be both dark and light. I will do what I must to keep the balance, as the balance is what holds all life. There is no good without evil, but evil must not be allowed to flourish. There is passion, yet peace; serenity, yet emotion; chaos, yet order. I am a wielder of the flame; a champion of balance. I am a guardian of life. I am a Gray Jedi.

This quote comes from Leor Danal who is considered a founding member of the grey jedi, a spiritually community of the force that seeks balance in all things. I am intrigued at how this aspect of the Star Wars universe resembles Jesuit spirituality. Here is the code of the grey jedi.

Flowing through all, there is balance There is no peace without a passion to create, There is no passion without peace to guide, Knowledge fades without the strength to act, Power blinds without the serenity to see. There is freedom in life. There is purpose in death The Force is all things and I am the Force

Now, consider the first principle and foundation of Jesuit spirituality.

In everyday life, then, we must hold ourselves in balance before all created gifts insofar as we have a choice and are not bound by some responsibility. We should not fix our desire on health or sickness, wealth or poverty, success or failure, a long life or a short one. For everything has the potential of calling forth in us a more loving response to our life forever with God.

Our only desire and our one choice should be this: I want and I choose what better leads to God's deepening life in me.

The spirituality of balance calls us to let go and be detached from the material goods of this world. The spirituality of letting go is what we call kenosis, a spirituality that follows the example of Christ in letting go his divinity in order to redeem humanity (Philippians 2:6-8). Both St. Ignatius and Leor Danal call us to be oriented to the source of all being. We Christians call this source God and the Jedi identify that as the Force. Detachment allows us to enjoy the goods of this world while not allowing ourselves to be mastered by any one person or thing.

It is curious that serenity is identified by the Gray Jedi as a source for achieving balance. The serenity prayer is recognized as a prayer for wisdom to help us achieve the grace to be emotionally detached and focused on the source of all being.

At this point it may be asked, why would the Grey Jedi have this tradition and not the Jedi order itself? If the mission of both the Jedi and the Christian Church is to promote the good, to strive for justice and peace based on the good, is this not better than seeking detachment and balance. The simple answer is that good itself can be subjective. This is especially true of any institution that serves a political order, like the historical Church and the Jedi order. Chancellor Palpatine was able to corrupt Anakin with the self-serving political interest of the Jedi Order in preserving its vision for the Galactic Republic. In "Tales of the Jedi" episode 2 and 3, we see how Jedi Master Dooku saw the injustice that came from corrupt Republic dignitaries. This caused him to question the ways of the Republic and the Jedi and enter the way of the Sith.

But the Jesuit influenced spirituality of the Grey Jedi offers the path of balance and focus. While recognizing the truth of this world they strive to always serve the highest good and address the errors of even well-intentioned institutions that suffer from forms of corruption. In our own history we see that this happened when the Jesuits evangelized and defended the Guarani tribes of modern-day Paraguay from colonial oppression backed by the Church. This would eventually lead to the temporary suppression of the Jesuits who thankfully were brought back after the Church recognized their noble position. In the movie "The Mission," we see two Jesuits, played by Robert DeNiro and Jeremy Irons, who struggle with the correct way to respond to this oppressive reality. DeNiro's character, like Count Dooku, chooses the path of fighting the colonials in defense of this indigenous community, which does not end well.

As the Star Wars universe develops its Jedi tradition, I wonder if these spiritual teachings can become opportunities to engage with aspects of our Christian spirituality and its mendicant tradition.