#dark eradicator warlock

[trident-dragion]

The funny thing about early structure decks to me is the central boss monster, the one depicted on the box, was almost NEVER worth playing. Like, Red-Eyes Darkness Dragon, Vampire Genesis, Infernal Flame Emperor, Ocean Dragon Lord - Neo-Daedalus, Gilford the Legend, and Dark Eradicator Warlock were all just worse than focusing on the secondary stuff and lower level monsters that actually made the deck work. Sure, some of them might be good if you can summon them, Neo-Daedalus is probably the most viable of these, but the effort and resources required are just... not worth it? Like compared to today where the cover card of a structure deck is usually incredibly strong, it's wild thinking about how back in the day the REAL build-around card of a structure deck was something like Armed Dragon LV5 or Raging Flame Sprite

#yu-gi-oh! #red-eyes darkness dragon #vampire genesis #infernal flame emperor #ocean dragon lord - neo daedalus #gilford the legend #dark eradicator warlock #armed dragon lv5 #raging flame sprite #i remember loving red-eyes darkness dragon as a kid #shame that it's just a red-eyes black dragon but with decent attack points #but you still need to invest in the original red-eyes first #i know i played it in my over the nexus red-eyes deck but that was mainly as a followup for inferno fire blast #like it feels good to drop that after using a spell that would make red-eyes unable to attack #but compared to the others i'd say red-eyes darkness dragon might be one of the better cards of the six examples #at least red-eyes black dragon isn't hard to access

[alexanderlightweight]

Instead of giving you even more prompts this week, can I just request a continuation of something you’re already working on? Honestly there is so much great stuff to choose from. Anything would be good but I’ve been really thinking on the two time travel fics you put out. Really interested to see where you take those and how thoroughly the boys will destroy canon.

Really though, I’ll be happy with anything you might pick.

here! some more of the same sky where malec timetravel back to the past ^_^

i am hoping this is one of the two? i'm not sure which of the other tt is yur preffered second though

i hope you enjoy

<3 lumine

-

Alec dies on a Tuesday.

Alec dies on a Tuesday and the shadowworld goes to hell on Wednesday, as if Alec’s death was what broke the dam.

Jace knows it’s dramatic, he does, but that doesn’t mean he and Izzy both can’t feel that it’s the truth.

Alec died and now the downworld is locking itself down, as if Alec’s death is just the first catalyst in a series of unforeseen and terrifying events that even the clave doesn’t know how to deal with.

Demons killed Alec — and if it wasn’t demons than Jace is going to find out what it was that stole his parabatai away and destroy whatever and whoever it was — and Jace is fully dedicated to eradicating every single one. He’s going to ensure that he earns justice for the broken bond.

—

Alec frowns as he looks over a book with Ragnor, “Jocelyn shouldn’t need to use it again, but even if she does she won’t need your assistance. We don’t even need the book since he’s already done the spell before.”

Ragnor nods in obvious agreement and they share a look.

Alec hopes it means that Ragnor is also impressed by the fact that Magnus has never forgotten a spell that he’s cast.

“But I still don’t like leaving the Book of the White with Camille, there’s too much of a risk of it ending up somewhere it shouldn’t.

“What do you mean it’s with Camille?”

Alec frowns and racks his memory, “from what I remember, Dot Rollins traded it to Camille for some sort of safety for the Fray’s.” Alec takes a moment to consider Ragnor’s rapidly purpling face and then he wisely sets down the book he was reading and backs out of the room.

He doesn’t understand half of what Ragnor is saying but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s clear Ragnor could use a little space while he processes the information that Alec gave him.

“Everything alright, darling?” Magnus asks him and Alec leans in to press a kiss to his cheek and sigh in relief that he’s warm beneath Alec’s lips.

“I think I upset him. I didn’t realize he didn’t know that Camille ended up with the book.”

Magnus winces and shrugs while Cat stares at the both of them. Alec doesn’t know how to respond to this version of her. This Cat doesn’t know him and is only allowing his continued existence because of Magnus, Alec can tell.

He respects that about her, but he also misses sharing stories and love for Magnus while they watched Madzie at the park…

“Madzie—” Alec breathes out turning to husband and then Magnus’ face transforms into one of darkness.

“You’ll act as a distraction?” Magnus asks quickly, because they both know that right now they have the very best element of surprise.

Rouse will never expect Magnus to be working with a shadowhunter.

Just like Valentine won’t be expecting Alec to be working with warlocks.

What became common knowledge is now their secret weapon and Alec nuzzles Magnus cheek even as his gut twists in memory of being too late to save Madzie before she survived more trauma.

This can be a gift, to both this new start for her as well as the failure that still haunts him.

“Of course.”

“Cat—” Magnus turns to give her a serious look filled with fury. “I will need your expertise and any comfort you’d be willing to offer a warlock toddler. She needs the stability of a safe and steady home and lifestyle and her core seems to be similar in wavelength to your own.”

Eyes warm with trust and Cat merely inclines her head — and Alec had expected no less — “I’d be honored, Magnus.”

#lumine writes #writing wednesday #writing wednesdays #the same sky #malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #team immortal #catarina loss #ragnor fell #shadowhunters

[jknerd]

FOP AU: Alden Bitterroot

Full Name: Alden Bitterroot

Gender: Male

Occupation(s): Servant (former), Witch/Warlock

Residence: Salem, Massachusetts (escaped), Turner’s Manor, Dimmsdale California (former)

Interests: Practicing witchcraft/wizardry/dark magic, magical pranks with Timothea, Hunting “witches” (fairies, actually)

Family: Foulmouth Bitterroot (father; deceased), Vendetta Bitterroot (mother; deceased), Crocker family (possible descendants)

Other Relationships: Ebenezer Turner (employer), Dale Dimm (enemy), Timothea Turner (friend->enemy)

Character

Alden Bitterroot is a witch/warlock and the supposed ancestor of Crocker family. He was interpreted as well-known witch hunter in 21st century, but in reality, he himself is of pureblooded witch/warlock family with ancestry of Hecate, the Greek Goddess of crossroads, magic, necromancy and ghosts. His main goal is much more vindictive and crueler than Crocker’s; eradicate all fairies out of their existence and bring out golden age of witches and wizards once again. Similar to Kevin Crocker, he and Timothea shared close friendship for a while, but the difference is that their friendship ended horribly. There has been a debate whether he, too, was Timothea’s suitor. But to describe their relationship, it was “more than friends, less than romantic”.

Background

Since childhood, Alden and his family were persecuted for the witchcraft, forced them to escape Salem, Massachusetts, and move to California. Taken pity of their state, Ebenezer Turner allowed them to work in his farm. He catches a sight of young Timothea who was about his age, but was roughly reminded by his parents he must accept his place; as a servant in social hierarchy and must never freely gaze upon the “superiors”, which insights Alden’s ambition tp rise above the humans as he secretly practices magic. When this was spotted by Timothea, both become close friends as she kept his magic secret. Both become a mischievous duo, pulling pranks on children from higher classes occasionally. However, Timothea developed concern when he expressed immense hatred towards fairies as his kinds were ostracized and persecuted to death, fairies were worshipped as guardian spirits even though both kinds share similar ability; magic.

When Timothea found a wand, he immediately recognized it as fairy’s. He suggested to destroy it or use its magic to hunt down fairies, but Timothea decided to use it for good. Soon, as she used the magic often, she and Alden finds out many children having fairy godparents. When he learned his parents were burned alive because some of the godchildren wished to locate wizards and witches, Alden decided to take matters in his own hands; spreading rumor among adults that fairies are evil spirits manipulating children to kidnap and take their souls, accusing them as true witches as he successfully killed several fairies, taken their power and strengthen his power. Unable to let his vindictive scheme continue, Timothea and Dale Dimm confronted him. With him exposed as warlock, she sealed him away instead of burning him alive. It was March 15 when he was sealed away, led to his downfall and also the same day he made a curse; his distant descendant of future generation shall carry his legacy in killing fairies.

#FOP #FOP AU #Fairly OddParents #Fairly OddParents AU #Alden Bitterroot

[tieflingtareon]

My love, are you the devil? (Oh, call me a devil)

Chapter 10 | Words: 4k

Summary: Astarion found himself often surprised by his heroic companion. He had one goal. To become the favoured companion of the group, to earn the Tieflings loyalty, to make Tar'eons strength his own. Yet Tar'eon isn't like the usual target of his manipulations. Despite his naivety, he does not seem gullible. There is something very wrong with their 'leader' to begin with. Astarion isn't sure if he wants to control it or eradicate the threat it posed. But can he really do either when Tar'eon himself seems so...unwaveringly kind?

That devil is getting into his head, while others get into Tar'eons. He doesn't appreciate not having the upperhand after years of being at the disadvantage. He will find a way to make him see.

He is the one he should be listening to. Astarion would make it so, no matter the means.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50668558/chapters/127995079

Tar'eon was avoiding him.

Astarion wasn't stupid, he knew when someone was trying to escape his presence, even if Tar'eon was pretty good as playing it off so casually, busying himself with others so he didn't have to be alone with him.

They'd managed to slash their way into the Underdark, and after three days of exploring the dangerous terrain, covered in blood and smelling awful in Astarion's opinion, they'd managed to make it to the wizards tower.

"Wyll, can I trust you to take the lead on this one?"

Gods, he was getting sick of the devil mans name on Tar'eons tongue. He was always with him now, or Shadowheart, or Karlach - Hells, he even chose Lae'zels company over his own these days, and quite literally didn't know what a joke was. Frankly, she scared him.

"You got it." Wyll gave a charming smile, adding in a small salute before he made quick work of running forward and casting lightning into the watching guards of the tower. He went further to take the other out, Shadowheart following after the Blade once the coast was clear. Tar'eon made to follow as well, but Astarion grasped his arm, pulling him in close, obscured from the others behind the wall.

"Astarion-"

"You're avoiding me. I know you are. Why?" He quirked a brow, challenging. "Did you not enjoy our evening, darling? I can always give you a more...polished repeat, if you wish?"

Tar'eon actually deflated, looking defeated. He had never seen the man direct look so tired. Had he always had those dark circles? Was he sleeping? He hadn't asked Astarion to drink from him since that night he propositioned him, and if Astarion was honest, he was a little annoyed, but he couldn't bring himself to bring it up. He'd find something to eat later if Tar'eon wouldn't feed him.

"Can we...can we not, right now? I don't want to talk about this, Astarion." Tar'eon sighed and placed his hand on Astarion's arm. "Lets just get what we came for. Come on."

"I'm afraid I have no lock picks on my person, any chance one of you do?" Wyll came around the corner and quirked a brow at their closeness. Astarion huffed and walked past the warlock, bumping shoulders like he was some sort of stiffed school boy.

"I have some. You made quick work of those, but there may be more ahead, so I'll unlock the door, and you take charge." Tar'eon instructed to Wyll who chuckled.

"You tell me to lead, yet you plan our every move." Tar'eon had the audacity to blush. Astarion could hear the skip of his heart and his stomach soured.

"If you have any suggestions..."

"I'm only teasing, my friend. You have the most brilliant ideas anyway." He led Tar'eon with a hand on his elbow for just a few moments before he dropped it, and Astarion wanted to sink his teeth into the warlock. Not with the intention to feed, either.

Tar'eon was avoiding him, and now Wyll was cozying up to him like their sordid affair wasn't obvious. Lae'zel had even made a comment on their 'nightly affairs' and glared as she told Astarion to keep it inside the tent.

Fine. If Tar'eon didn't want to talk, so be it. Astarion would occupy himself until he came crawling back. Astarion would never grovel to another man again.

****

Astarion didn't usually get so ballsy with his hunts, but when a sleeping Minotaur had been on the menu, well...how could he resist? It was Tar'eons fault he was starving anyway. He may have gotten himself a touch blood-drunk though. He'd never experienced such a thing before, so he hadn't realised there was a limit to his overindulgence. It was much better than the buzz of wine. He felt giddy.

Tar'eon was approaching. Oh dear. He'd broken that pesky rule of his...Oh well. He didn't have to listen to anybody's rules, not anymore.

"There you are! My friend." He extended his hands out, giving a mocking bow to the man. Ignoring him for three days and then coming over to chat so casually? Whatever he wanted, it could wait. He was quite happy right now, and he didn't need the rain cloud that that man brought everywhere.

Tar'eon crossed his arms. Drats. He wasn't making himself appear very sober, now was he?

"At your service." He drawled, looking unimpressed.

"Are you now?" Astarion laughed a little. "Don't make promises you can't keep, darling." After all, his service hadn't been open to Astarion for the past few days.

"Thankfully, I've had my needs met this evening." Tar'eons brows furrowed and Astarion grinned. "I found a Minotaur. He took a little of my blood, but I took all of his." He'd given him a nasty scratch along his arm, but it was already beginning to heal.

"You seem happy." Oh, and Tar'eon sounded so bitter about it. Astarion had to stifle a giggle. He did enjoy riling the man up. "No need to drink humaniod blood, then?"

Was that why he came over? To offer his blood? Astarion scoffed.

"You're comparing plonk to vintage wine." He huffed at the comparison. Minotaur were basically animals. Like kobold. "You can make merry with either, but they are not the same." They weren't even in the same league. Tar'eon was the first actual person he drank from, and it had been the best thing to ever grace his tongue, as much as his curiosity considered the others necks.

"But Cazador fed me rats and bugs. And when you're used to drinking from a sewer, even plonk is a marked improvement."

"Sounds...delicious." Tar'eon looked as disgusted as Astarion did. He gave a humourless laugh.

"It was exactly as appetising as you'd think." He hoped he felt bad for not feeding him sooner. The prick. "Still. That was the past. I'll never have to grovel for him again." Not for anyone.

"True. You can start over." Tar'eon smiled now. He felt like he was finally getting through to the vampire. "You can be better than what he made you."

Astarions eyes shone as his imagination went wild.

"Exactly! I can be better than him. Stronger. More powerful. More-" Astarion noticed Tar'eons disapproving stance and grimaced. "Oh. You mean't...'be kinder'? Pet bunnies, that sort of thing?" He waved a hand and sighed.

"I have no objections to being nice, of course. Once I have the power to bend others to my will." Astarion smirked. If he weren't drunk on blood, he wouldn't have such a loose tongue, but seeing as Tar'eon was moving onto the next bed mate, who was he to care what he thought of him?

"You think power lets you do anything, free from consequences?" Tar'eon frowned, his brows furrowed like he didn't quite understand how Astarion could think that way. Astarion wasn't as naive as him though. He knew how the world worked. He'd lived worse than a mutt most of his life while under Cazador's thumb.

"Well...yes." It seemed only obvious. Did he really have to spell it out for him? "You can't look at the world and tell me I'm wrong."

Yet Tar'eon still shook his head, not seeing that Astarion was right.

"The strong have a duty to protect the weak, Astarion. Too much power - it's poisonous. Power corrupts. You do well to remember that." Astarion wanted to bare his fangs at the tiefling at the reminder that he was the one in need of this so called protection. That he was seen as weak in the others eyes. He should kill him on the spot, prove a point.

"A little corruption sounds fun." Astarion bit instead. "I spent centuries the victim of a corrupt man. It was the mindflayers who plucked me away from him. They gave me a gift." He glared at Tar'eon. "The strength to take my own freedom. I'm embracing this power, Tar'eon - and you should too."

"I told you, I won't do it." Tar'eon scowled. "I won't be discussing this any further with you."

"Oh come off it - you don't want to talk to me, period! Ever since that night, you've been avoiding me. I would say I'm hurt, but I'm really not."

"That's the problem, Astarion." Tar'eon thinned his lips. "You're never hurt. It's only ever me."

Astarion frowned, not quite getting what he was saying, not in his current state.

"Yes, so I've seen. You died, remember? I make a habit of not doing that, personally."

Tar'eon sighed and closed his eyes, shaking his head like he was simply too tired to be bothered with Astarion's quips.

"Goodnight, Astarion."

"Wha- you're not even going to give me a good response? You've lost your touch."

"Goodnight."

Astarion watched him go with a scowl, arms crossed over his chest. He huffed. Bastard ruined his mood, just as he predicted. He ignored the dull ache in his chest, going into his tent and closing it up tight. He didn't feel like any visitors tonight.

****

Tar'eon was acting strange. The bags under his eyes were only getting darker the further into the Underdark they went. Taking Nere's head back to the Myconid seemed to expel some of the tension in him, it seemed, but not by much.

One may think Astarion obsessed, but he really wasn't. He was simply observant. After centuries watching his masters every move, trying to calculate around his outbursts, his cruelties...

It was simply habit to watch, and watch closely.

Tar'eon was acting irrationally. He was losing the grip on himself from the lack of sleep, and Astarion could see it, the way that dark hunger swirled in his eyes the deeper they went. The man who would pick word over violence any day slayed Sovereign Glut like it was nothing when he suggested killing Spaw. Shoved the duergar off the boat and into the black waters without an ounce of remorse. Gave up the Captain with ease to Nere before he chose to slaughter him.

He had promised the girl, Thulla, after all. Even now, he kept his promises, but he was being bloodthirsty about them. It unsettled him, surprisingly. It was unsettling the rest of the group too, unsurprisingly. Their leader was becoming less himself as the days dragged on, and all the others had to explain it was the Underdark messing with the tieflings head, or the tadpole.

Astarion knew better.

"Something happened. Something you're not telling me." He waited until the others had retired before he approached the man. They still had much to explore of the Grymforge before they departed to the Shadow Lands. Even without a lantern, Tar'eon seemed set on leaving, and soon. Astarion understood. He too wanted answers sooner rather than later, and if Moonrise held them, he'd take some creepy shadows in hand to hand to get them.

Tar'eon turned his eyes away from the fire at Astarions words, and it was obvious he hadn't been looking to sleep, even if he desperately needed it.

"...That girl, Alfira...If it wasn't her, it would have been someone else." He sighed, looking back to the fire. Astarion stood above him, waiting for him to continue, but he didn't.

"For Gods sake - perhaps, yes, it would have been someone else. But it wasn't. Why are you bringing her up again anyway? Let the dead rest." Ironic for a vampire to say that.

"I...I had a visitor." He admitted and Astarion's interest was quipped.

"Oh? Is this the end of our late night trusts then?" He mused and Tar'eon sat up quickly, his eyes burning with anger as he glared up at Astarion.

"Can you just hold your tongue for five fucking seconds?" Astarion stepped back at the hiss, surprised by the potent irritation that radiated off him. He hadn't slept in days. Of course he wouldn't appreciate Astarions humour.

"...Go on." He tried not to sound angry himself, even if it was only natural to bristle when such a tone was used towards him. "You had a visitor." Tar'eons own anger seemed to melt away a bit, leaving him looking twice as exhausted as before, if possible. He laid back on his bedroll and stared up at the ceiling.

"He called himself my butler. He...he said I shouldn't deny my urges. That if I kept doing so, I'd be disinherited or something. How can he expect me to just- to just go around, maiming everything?"

"Haven't you been?" Astarion quirked a brow. "You've been on a war path for days now. They're all quite worried about you, darling."

"I- I'm trying to resist. I am. The only times I give in is- is when it's an enemy. I know I'm play with fire, but if I can somehow sate the urge while doing whats right...maybe I can keep those who are important safe."

"From experience, letting you play with fire doesn't go well." Astarion huffed softly, looking at the tired man. "...You can resist it. You told me yourself, that you wouldn't let anything take who you are. Who you want to be. If I catch you slipping again, darling, I will do you the favour of ending your misery quickly, alright?"

Despite the callous words, there was almost something tender about them, something soft in his voice that he couldn't hide, even when speaking of killing the man. Tar'eon smiled at him, small but true as he hugging his knees to his chest, looking away to the fire.

"If I ever turn on you guys, make it slow. I'd deserve it."

"This other being in your body may deserve it, but not you." Astarion sighed softly and crouched down, gently tilting Tar'eons chin to look at him. "You're not sleeping. You're scared you'll lose control again."

Tar'eon lowered his gaze and nodded softly, confirming his suspicions. Astarion tutted and crawled forward, the tiefling laying back without a protest, perhaps too tired to bother with one. Astarion brushed his cold lips over his throat, and Tar'eon shivered.

"If you bite me...I'll fall asleep. I don't know what will happen..."

"I will watch over you. You need to rest, for the others sake. You'll worry them sick."

"...And you?" Tar'eons hand was a hot presence against his lower back, trailing up and over the scars hidden beneath his shirt. "Will you worry?"

Astarion chuckled.

"Perhaps just a bit. Close your eyes, dear. Let me chase away those nightmares for you..." Astarion grazed his fangs over his pulse and bit down, breaking skin. Tar'eon gasped sharply, his arms slipping around the pale elf and holding him close.

It didn't matter how much distance he tried to put between them. He still craved this closeness. Knowing he would be watching over him, Tar'eon couldn't help but close his eyes, trusting the vampire as he let his exhaustion consume him.

Nobody dared to wake him, even well into the morning, least they suffer the wrath of the vampire beside him, fixing an shirt much too large for himself with needle and thread.

****

Before their trek back to Grymforge, Tar'eon made sure to ask Blurg about his collection of books, seeing as he seemed to be some sort of scholar.

"I...I'll admit, I know the Infernal language in a manner of speech, but I struggle to read it. Words, they're - instinctive. Even without my memories. I was wondering if you had any books on learning the Infernal language I could purchase from you."

"Hmm...You know, I may just have one from my own personal collection. I was given it as a gift from a friend, but I'm afraid languages are not my forte." Blurg opened his chest and rummaged through it for a couple moments before making a sound that showed he'd found what he was looking for. "Here you go. After everything you've done for the people hosting my friend and I, consider it a gift. Perhaps we will meet again."

"Hopefully after I'm rid of this tadpole." Tar'eon smiled and graciously accepted the gift. The journey across the water was a long one, so he tucked himself into his own corner and read as they travelled. Karlach was surprisingly sea sick, and spent most of the journey being comforted by Shadowheart, who offered her a potion to hopefully ease it, Wyll trying to distract her with a fairy tale from his childhood.

Tar'eon spent most of the day reading over the text, trying to memorise every letter of the language, every conjunction, the basics...

He only bothered to put it away during battle. Going against a giant robot was no easy feat, but once they realised it was weak in the lava, and took a decent amount of damage when crushed, it had been easy to take it down. They even ended up with quite the weapon, which he graciously passed to Wyll.

"I think you'd be the most proficient with this, considering you favour the rapier. They seem to be similar."

"Oh yes, but this will deal a lot more damage." Wyll smiled wide, looking at the faintly glowing scimitar with excitement. He gave it a test swing, a parry, humming to himself as he twisted his wrist. "It has a slightly different feel, but...I think it will do perfectly. Thank you, my friend. This Blade will do The Blade well."

The pair shared a smile, Tar'eon simply happy to make Wyll happy with the gift.

Astarion decided to take a wander while they had their moment, and stumbled across a magma monster, making a curious sound before he took out a fire resistant potion. He could see treasure on the other side, and he was quite curious.

Curiosity may kill the cat, but satisfaction brought it back, and seeing as Astarion was already dead, he was all for satisfying his every little desire. He managed across without disturbing the monster, his boot soles only a touch melted, and unlocked the box. He grinned as he opened it, only to find an amulet.

"Huh. How boring. It's not even pretty..." He picked it up nonetheless, planning on selling it, when a fit of giggles threatened to overtake him. Oh Gods. He touched a cursed amulet, didn't he?

He continued to laugh, trying to calm himself before he got the magma monsters attention. He was shocked to hear laughing that wasn't his own and stared at the monk before him. He wasn't in the favour of helping people, but seeing as he might literally die of laughter if he didn't accept, he agreed to take him towards Baldur's Gate. Tar'eon seemed quite amused by his occasional giggle, the amulet almost tickling them out of him at times. He was grateful when they got to camp and he was able to put it in the chest, far away from his person. He had other thinks to think about.

Like the scars on his back. It was starting to grate on him, not knowing what it said. He wasn't fluent in Infernal, Hells, he knew next to nothing, but he liked to think himself a quick learner in every task given to him. And knowing it may be a contract that could bring him back to Cazador...it made his skin prickle and the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

Seeing as he couldn't use a mirror, he removed his shirt and attempted poorly to feel over the bumps and ridges, trying to make out the lettering so he could spell it out, but he was only growing increasingly frustrated.

"Bloody Infernal. How is anyone meant to read this garbage?"

"I thought you didn't care what Cazador wrote on your back?" Astarion jumped, so lost in the task he hadn't noticed his favourite tiefling approaching from behind. When had he gotten so soft? He was sure he used to be better at this. When had Tar'eons footsteps stop registering to his ear like any other regular person?

"Ah! There you are. I admit, I got curious." Astarion chuckled, turning to look at the man. Tar'eon had a book in his hands, watching Astarion with curiosity. It seemed they'd both been thinking about it. Tar'eon felt like he could finally give some input to the scars in question, having consumed the book avidly.

"I've been tracing the scars on my back with my fingers, trying to read them by touch, but I can't." He admitted, a little defeated. "They may as well be written in Rashemi."

"Want me to get you a mirror?" Astarion baulked at the mirth in the others eyes, and scowled.

"That had better be a joke. I can't read it with a mirror, and it seems I can't read it with my hands either." He waited for the tiefling to offer his assistance, but he stood there, silent, watching him. He could almost feel himself flush, continuing.

"So...I was wondering if maybe - perhaps - you might be able to..." Gods, it was like pulling teeth with the man, he was still watching him and not saying anything. "Can you read what's on my damned back?" He snapped before clearing his throat, his 'please' near inaudible.

Tar'eon chuckled.

"Of course. Turn around. I'll try my best. I've been doing some reading, actually." Astarion turned around for the man to see the scar, feeling strangely vulnerable as he spread his arms as if to say 'go ahead'.

He tensed slightly as the other traced out a couple letters, Tar'eons head tilted in confusion as he read. It was all fragmented, like it was incomplete, but he doubted it. He could make out something about an oath, and 'the fires below', likely referring to an oath to the Hells. It looked almost like...

A piece of a larger text. Hadn't Astarion mentioned something about the other spawns also being carved into? Perhaps he wasn't the only one stuck in this oath Cazador had made.

"And?" Astarion asked, impatient. "What does it say?"

"Well, it's not a poem, as I suspected." Tar'eon frowned. "It might be a devil's pact, but it's incomplete. Or, I should say, it's only part of a larger pact all together."

"An Infernal pact, and not even the whole text?" Astarion felt a rush of indignation, turning around with a scowl. "What was that bastard up to...?"

"If he did make a deal with the devil, he might be more dangerous than we thought." Tar'eon admitted, his jaw clenched in anger. He was growing to despise this Cazador man more and more as time went by. It burned like the fires of the Hells in his belly.

"More dangerous than you thought, perhaps. I never had any doubts." Astarion gritted his teeth, fangs threatening to split his lip. "But if this is a part of a contract, it must be powerful. Or valuable. Or both." The knowledge he'd stolen away with something precious to Cazador, some sort of power he could no longer access...Oh, it was nice. His spiteful black heart rejoiced at the notion.

"No wonder he wants me back. What have I run off with..."

"There's more to the contract. My question is where the rest of it is?"

"I wasn't his only spawn. And he tortured us all - I imagine each of us carry this Infernal contract."

"I had assumed the same." Tar'eon frowned, holding his chin thoughtfully.

"My question is what could a devil have offered to Cazador? He had wealth, power, control - what more could you want?" He couldn't fathom wanting for anything else.

"There's a lot someone could want past money and power. Though, greed can become gluttony. When you have so much, you can forget how little others have, and desire even more, assuming you deserve it."

Astarion sighed. Still. Cazador truly had everything. What more could he want?

"Thank you, by the way. This is...well, it's something."

"I told you. This is important to you, so it's important to me." Despite the ache in his chest, he meant it. Astarion had his heart, even if the man wasn't ready to accept it. "We'll figure it out. I promise."

"Will we?" Astarion hummed. "How...sweet. That book - did you buy it, just to try and read to garbage on my back?"

"I'd prefer to avoid a deal with the devil, should we stumble upon him again. His smarmy face annoys me."

"Oh? I thought him rather handsome. I'm seeming to find myself quite...enchanted by devilish looks." Astarion gave a small tug on his horn as he passed him by to put his shirt back on, a playful smirk on his pretty mouth, and Tar'eon bit his lip.

He would not be swayed again. He really did have to put this to an end soon, before the hurt grew worse than it already was. Sometimes being around the man made his heart ache so fiercely he couldn't breathe. He could just...never bring himself to say no to him.

Gods. He hoped someone out there was praying for him, or he might perish beneath the vampires wishes.

#astarion x dark urge #astarion x mc #astarion x tav #astarion x male tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfiction #astarion bg3 #bg3 fic #bg3 tav #astarion

[xmystophalesx]

Best New Heavy Metal Releases Week of November 25th, 2022

Hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving holiday weekend. I was definitely thankful for that bit of extra time off from work to get through another strong week of releases. Will be a bit of a theme this week as there are more than a few albums that are just simply a blast to listen to. Especially in the “best of the Week” highlights section. Another flawless segue, so let’s get to a few of those aforementioned highlights.

Vambier-Prost Mortem (Heavy/Hard Rock)**

Good time hard rock with songs all about alcohol with those lyrics firmly planted tongue in cheek. Just a fun album all the way through.

Terrorhammer-Gateways to Hades (Black/Speed/Thrash)**

I would have like the production to be a little better on this, but I just had to have it as a highlight. This album just fills that old school fast as fuck Thrash/Speed Metal genre to the point of bursting.

Induction-Born From Fire (Symphonic Power)**

Completely new band to me and with this album, I will definitely look for more from them. If you are into Power Metal even slightly, give this one a listen. There is something really addictive about this album.

Hei’An-Imago (Progressive/Post/Black)**

One of those albums that has a lot going on and the more you listen, the more you unravel more layers and things you may have missed previously. This may not be an instant favorite, but it will reward you with multiple listens.

Sword-III (Heavy)**

Good old-fashioned Heavy Metal is the order of the day from Sword and once again they deliver an album that has everything you could want from the genre. Catchy songs, killer riffs, sing along choruses, blazing leads and when the album is over, they leave you wanting more. Considering their last album was released almost 35 years ago, this is one hell of a comeback!

Getting close to Christmas, just remember, Heavy Metal makes a magnificent gift! Buy some of these albums and help support all this incredible work. Until next week, and as always,

BANG THY HEAD!!!

All worthy of a listen if you like the genre

*= standout in that genre

**=best of the week regardless of genre

Best of the Week

Riot in the Attic-Those Who Don’t Belong (Hard Rock)**

Vambier-Prost Mortem (Heavy/Hard Rock)**

Sword-III (Heavy)**

Leather-We Are the Chosen (Heavy)**

Blackrain-Untamed (Glam/Heavy)**

Terrorhammer-Gateways to Hades (Black/Speed/Thrash)**

Hei’An-Imago (Progressive/Post/Black)**

Induction-Born From Fire (Symphonic Power)**

High Command-Eclipse of the Dual Moons (Thrash/Crossover/Punk)**

Standouts in their Genre

Sirrush-Molon Labe (Death/Black)*

Sisters of Suffocation-Eradication (Death)*

Evinity Project-Evinity Project (Melodic Death)*

I’ll Be Damned-Culture (Heavy/Hard Rock)*

Carnal Savagery-Worm Eaten (Death)*

Aviscerus-Visceral Depths (Melodic Death)*

Savage Soul-Suffering World (Death/Thrash)*

Once Awake-Once Awake (Melodic Death)*

Djevel-Naa Skrider Natten Sort (Black)*

Walk in Darkness-Leaves Rolling in Time (Gothic)*

Whirlwind-1714 (Heavy)*

Te Deum-Reflexia (Death/Doom/Melodic)*

Bad Sister-Where Will You Go (Hard Rock)*

Lucifericon-The Warlock of Du’ath (Death/Black)*

Nazghor-Seventh Secular Crusade (Black)*

The Riven-Peace and Conflict (Hard Rock)*

Judicator-The Majesty of Decay (Power/Progressive)*

Nomadus-Axis Primordial (Progressive Thrash/Groove)*

Elder-Innate Passage (Hard Rock/Psychadelic/Stoner)*

Depressive Witches-Distant Kingdoms (Black/Black n’ Roll)*

In the Woods…-Diversum (Progressive/Avantgarde)*

Jade-The Pacification of Death (Atmospheric Death)*

Virgil-Acheron (Death/Black)*

Worth a listen if you enjoy the genre

Esse-Letanias Al Verdugo (Melodic Black)

Black Lava-Soul Furnace (Black/Death)

Opened Paradise-Eclipse (Gothic)

Dark Nightmare-Beyond the Realms of Sorrow (Epic Heavy)

(Echo)-Witnesses (Melodic Death/Doom)

Krell-Deserts (Hard Rock)

Critical Extravasation-Order of Decadence (Technical Death/Thrash)

Zagtar-Primordial Mother (Groove/Thrash)

Anomaly-Somewhere Within the Pines (Death)

Archetype X-Regression (Melodic Death/Metalcore)

Detraktor-Full Body Stomp (Thrash)

Carnivora-Petrichor (Melodic Death)

Very close this week but pick of the week goes to Sword with a truly excellent album. THIS is how you make a comeback!

#black metal #metal #music #classic rock #folk #hard rock #hardcore music #rock #death metal #punk #melodic death metal #heavy metal #heavymusic #heavyrock #traditional metal #melodic black metal #youtube #extreme metal #melodic death #melodic metal

[crownofautumnleaves]

Dark Magician Effect Monster Forms + Accompanying Cards 

#Dark Magician #dark sage #Dark eradicator warlock #dark magician knight #knight's title #time wizard #Yu-Gi-Oh #yugi moto

[aroyami]

587th replied to your post “I really like the concept of Atem being a cat person, because cats are...”

this makes me sad that the mutou household canonicaly doesnt have a kitty

They Will

#587th #All hail Princess Dark Eradicator Warlock

[commanderguixi]

Tries to think of what Earth would be like if one of the Chosen did succeed and was granted the planet to rule over.

#dres muses #i know they all say their respective things #assassin p much would rule it as it is now with advent #hunter wants it as a game reserve #warlock would just eradicate most of the population but keep a large majority as his servants #but??? i wanna expand upon that... #... and the expansion is all very much Dark Bad End

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

My professor who I always really liked and respected all my girlfriends and even a couple guys have a massive crush on him everyone makes jokes about wanting to sleep with him he’s the younger cool type of professor, he made a pass at me after getting very friendly lately and touchy feely(hand on back, knee, shoulder and then finally grabbing my ass)I turned him down obviously after he asked if I’d wanna see him out the classroom. The whole scenario has brought up past trauma and I feel sick whenever I see him, I reported him but ya know these things no proof blah blah blah..unfortunately its happened alot at my university they get away with it but I just wondered how do you think Billy would handle something like that? Since he has experience with Arthur

LIST OF BILLYS THAT WOULD JUST FLAT OUT KILL HIM:

Literally any of my Dark Billys

Warlock Billy

Incubus Billy

God of war!Billy, might hesitate for a minute though.

Faeking! Billy would just eradicate him.

Vampire Billy, would not even hesitate, like, not even for a second, not even if you asked him to wait, nobody touches you.

Mafia!Billy..... tortures him first.

List of Billy's that would kill him and make it look like a happy accident:

Demon Billy, because he doesn't want you implicated in any way.

Werepanther Billy, because he likes to plan murders out extensively, it's an art form to him. He might just get the man fired too, and completely barred from schools if you persuaded him, he just loves to scheme.

.....I think you get the idea of what Billy would do.... 😅

I really hope you're okay though and it's horrible that someone in a position of power tried to take advantage of you this way with no implications, and Billy knows this feeling all to well and I know that if he could snuff that feeling out, remove it from the world completely, he would.

Billy isn't someone I could ever see tolerating that kind of behaviour.

😘

#ask #billy russo #my writings #tw

[eggsmuses-a]

a bit of world - building based on the d.estiny fantasy au i mentioned here on corsairdcwn but it probably doesnt build much

- each of the classes reside in their own kingdoms , the hunters in Hertun , the titans in Tanit and the warlocks in Kla’wroc each ruled by their own vanguard from the actual games . Hertun is ruled prev by the Brask family until Prince Andal bestowed the title of Prince on his best friend Cayde as he died . Tanit is ruled by King Zavala , who is from the Reef Allegiance previously but diverged from the kingdom . Kla’wroc is ruled by Queen Rey who ascended to the throne after the previous King Osiris disappeared from the picture ( the reason for this is unknown and very covered up by false documents )

- the three kingdoms are united under the royal vanguard but have their own individual honour guards . the vanguard only contains the kingdoms of Hertun , Tanit and Kla’wroc . the reef and europan / darkness rules are barely affiliated with the RV

- its rare to see a class reside in kingdoms other than their own but not impossible -- though some discrimination happens depending on where they move

- the continent is the land of sol because ..... yeah

- ghosts are familiars in this land and are given to those chosen by the arcana who are basically just normal guardians

- the darkness is a dictation that begins spreading throughout sol with most of the followers residing in the county of europa that aims to eradicate the vanguard kingdoms and anyone who stands in the way

- Crow is still former Prince Uldren and was resurrected by an unknown mage and granted a familiar he called Glint . he’s widely unaccepted around the vanguard kingdoms , especially Hertun and lives in Tanit instead due to King Zavala’s sympathy . Uldren was originally planning to lead the Hertun Resistance to assassinate Cayde after betraying the Reef but it failed as the royal guard prevented this . Cayde has been missing from the public since however

- the awoken are an elf species that are a mixed race of dark elves and light elves . thats it LMAO

- the Bray descent was given a curse due to Clovis Bray -- i havent decided exactly what yet but they have a curse and its related to stasis . this affects Elisabeth and Ana years after Clovis’ disappearance and still shines through to Banshee now

#/if some of this doesnt fit fantasy world laws thats because i dont do rules #/im tired but i really wanna talk about this au but i also i dont have it thought out so i dont think this really adds much to what i had - #/- in mind but yeah #( out of eggs ) -- ooc #( .. ) -- headcanon #( .. ) -- study #study / cayde - 6 #study / crow #study / exo stranger #study / shaw #destiny // #/i uh wrote this earlier today so i dont know how good it os #/is*

[pahrak-the-sinnoh-slizer]

idk why but for some reason I wanted to organize all (or at least most) of the iterations of Dark Magician into a singular class tree, like how you would unlock each successive level if you were a Dark Magician in a game or something

(Dark Magician girl will have a separate class tree before anyone asks)

Attempted to transcribe this beneath the cut

-Palladium Oracle Mahad and Magician of Dark Illusion merge into classic Dark Magician

-Dark Magician has four paths beneath him, and one path to the right labeled “Class Change to Knight” which leads to Dark Magician Knight

-One path below Dark Magician is labeled “Xyz”, which leads to Ebon High Magician, then to Ebon Illusion Magician, then to Legendary Magician of Dark

-One path below Dark Magician is labeled “Classical Dark Arts”, which leads to Dark Eradicator Warlock, then to Sorceror of Dark Magic, then to Quintet Magician.  A path beneath Quintet Magician labelled “~1000 Years of Study” leads to Dark Sage.

-One path below Dark Magician is labeled “Timaeus Fusion”, leading to Amulet Dragon

-One path below Dark Magician is labeled “Chaos”, leading to Illusion of Chaos, then to Magician of Chaos, then to Magician of Black Chaos, then to Dark Magician of Chaos, then to Magician of Black Chaos MAX

-Dark Magician Knight has six paths beneath him, one of which reaches down until it is parallel with Magician of Black Chaos to show that the two fuse into Master of Chaos

-One path below Dark Magician Knight is labeled “Timaeus Fusion”, leading to Dark Magician the Dragon Knight

-One path below Dark Magician Knight is labeled “Gaia Fusion”, leading to Dark Cavalry

-One path below Dark Magician Knight is labeled “Buster Blader Fusion”, leading to Dark Paladin

-One path below Dark Magician Knight is labeled “Red-Eyes Fusion”, leading to Red-Eyes Dark Dragoon

-One path below Dark Magician Knight is labeled “Flame Swordsman Fusion”, leading to Dark Flare Knight, then to Mirage Knight

#Yu-Gi-Oh! #Dark Magician

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

A Conversation with Death [Chapter Three] The End is Nigh [Faustus Blackwood]

Asteria hummed as she browsed the selections. There weren’t many; one woman, a man, and a teenage male that Ambrose insisted she didn’t take. The man, ridden with sores had died of an overdose. According to the notes Ambrose took, he was an avid meth addict; the track marks along the inside of his arm were a dead giveaway. And the woman had committed suicide by cutting her wrists. It was an obvious choice, though Asteria might have liked to be a man again. The poor shape his body was in didn’t suit her interest, however; too much maintenance to waste on a mortal.

She approached the woman’s body and brushed her dark hair from her face. She was a gorgeous mortal; life in her cheeks would pale in comparison. It was almost a shame. Asteria pried open her stiff jaw and peered inside; her carcass was vacant, as it should be. She leaned down and placed her mouth over the woman’s, transferring her soul. Her former skin slumped to the floor in a wet heap. It took a few seconds, and once the transfer was complete, Asteria opened her eyes and peered around the room. The new body was stiff, rigor mortis had set in hours ago, but thanks to Ambrose massaging and flexing the joints, Asteria was able to move quicker than expected. She sat up with a grunt as most of the body’s functions returned.

Ambrose came down the stairs moments later. He cleared his voice to draw her attention and averted his eyes. Her bare chest was displayed to him; the cool air perked her nipples, and though Ambrose had done seen the woman naked, it was wrong to stare since the carcass was now amongst the living again.

“I brought something for you to wear,” he mentioned, offering the garment to her.

Asteria grinned. How considerate of him. She eased from the table and tested her legs before walking over to him, taking it. The dress was sewn from a crepe fabric and was lightweight; tasteful and form-fitting. The sleeves were long and mesh, covering the marks on her wrists. It suited her.

“I extend my gratitude,” Asteria exclaimed.

Ambrose nodded.

“My Aunties want a word if you have the time,” he mentioned.

She hummed.

“I have nothing but time.”

Humanity could not be eradicated in one day. All of the horsemen were needed to usher along the apocalypse, each with a purpose. Asteria’s siblings were somewhere in the world; she was in no hurry to locate them, though it needed to be done to fulfill their roles.

Asteria searched for her Psychopomp, locating it near her former skin. She sent it away and gestured for Ambrose to lead the way. He showed her back to the kitchen where the aunties were sitting, waiting for her. Zelda motioned for Hilda to stand and offered her seat to Asteria. The said woman puckered a brow. She reminded her of War, her brother Ptolemy.

As she sat, Hilda poured her a fresh cup of tea.

“An important guest is dropping by, and we insist that you meet him,” Zelda brought up.

Hilda cleared her throat.

“If you don’t mind.”

Asteria took a sip of her tea. The taste of sweet honey greeted her tongue.

“Is this person a warlock?” She asked.

Zelda confirmed with a nod.

What were they scheming? Hexes and curses did little to stop her, and though she was immortal, her human body was not. Asteria tapped her nails against the cup in annoyance.

“Making an enemy of me is unwise,” she stated.

Hilda shook her head.

“We mean to ask you some questions and since our High Priest is coming here, we’d like him to hear your answers,” she explained.

What harm could they do to her? One warlock could not change the tide of her decision. She tightened her jaw and narrowed her eyes.

“I honor my word. I made a promise to answer whatever questions you have,” Asteria mentioned. “But heed my warning, if you attempt to stand in my way, the idol you pray to will not be able to save you from me.”

Zelda squared her shoulders and grinned.

“So mote it be.”

For the next few minutes, Zelda explained the plan. Asteria was to wait in the kitchen until the meeting with their niece Sabrina was over, then someone would escort her to the living room. She wasn’t interested in being interrogated, but her honor was on the line. It might have been easier for her to have killed them.

An hour later, Asteria sat in silence, tapping her finger irritably on the kitchen table as she waited. She was annoyed, and what upset her the most was her inability to go against her word. The witches were trying her patience. As she tossed another lump of sugar into her empty cup, a surge of unexplained power tickled her senses. Did the source come from the High Priest? Asteria felt drawn to it for some reason. She looked towards the door frame just as someone walked in; a young woman with blonde hair.

“The aunties are ready for you,” she declared with a puckered brow.

It was about time.

“You must be Sabrina,” Asteria addressed.

There was something strange about her. Was she a witch like her aunts?

Asteria stood and sauntered over to her. She was right to assume there was something about her that was unusual; the unexplained power came from her. But did she know?

Sabrina narrowed her eyes.

“Have we met before?”

Asteria grinned.

“We have never met, but we are fated to.”

Everyone and everything is fated to die. There is no escaping death.

Sabrina sighed.

“Fate. I keep hearing that word lately. I am meant to do this; meant to do that.”

Asteria puckered a brow. She was indeed a unique character.

“It is in our nature to make our fates, though some of us are meant for certain roles,” she spoke.

The young woman hummed.

“How do we know what role we have to play?” Sabrina asked.

It comes predetermined. Asteria knew the role she had to play the moment she came into existence. She leaned forward and touched the blonde’s arm; a shiver racked her body.

“Cold hands, dear,” Asteria uttered. “And to answer your question, if you do not know by now what you are meant to become, then make up your fate.”

Sabrina thought about it for a moment, then grinned.

“You know, I think we were fated to meet.”

She had no idea how right she was. Motioning for Asteria to come along with her, Sabrina led her from the kitchen to the living room, then departed with a smile.

A warm fire crackled in the fireplace as Ambrose tended to it. Asteria sauntered in and was offered a seat on the couch next to Zelda. A man in black sat on the chair in front of them, assessing the woman. He stared at her a moment, then grunted.

“Am I to assume this is Death?”

Asteria puckered a brow.

“Would it be more believable if I took the appearance of a man?” She asked.

It was always the same with them; Angels and demons their species believe in, but not the ancients.  

The man frowned. His sharp nails tapped at the head of his cane in annoyance.

“It’s hard to believe regardless,” he answered back. Averting his eyes to Zelda, he raised a brow.

Zelda nodded.

“It’s no lie,” she made clear.

Ambrose cleared his throat and stood beside the couch.

“She was escorted by a Psychopomp. Their species can not be tamed,” he mentioned.

The man turned to Asteria. His eyes narrowed in puzzlement.

“I wasn’t aware death was a being.”

Zelda snorted.

“In the bible, it is, of all places.”

What she said was true. John of Patmos wrote about Asteria in Revelations, but all idols knew about her and the other three horsemen.

Her eyes narrowed in annoyance. As riveting as this debate was, Asteria was starting to grow bored of it.

“This is the last warning. Ask your questions before I let the worms have a claim to your flesh,” she sneered.

Zelda cleared her throat.

“Are you content, Father Blackwood?”

He curled his nose but agreed.

With the go-ahead from Zelda, Ambrose came around the couch to assess the woman and her answers.

“For what reason are you here?” he asked.

Asteria snorted.

“I have always been here, long before any of you were born. As to what I am here for, that is to see to the end of humanity,” she answered back.

Hilda – who stood near the door – frowned.

“What does that mean?”

Asteria grinned.

“The end is nigh. And once the seals are broken, the horsemen will ride across the plant, spreading fear and death.”

“How many seals have been broken?” Father Blackwood asked.

Asteria shook her head.

“I am unsure, but since I am free that means at least four out of seven seals are opened,” she explained.

Ambrose hummed.

“So the horsemen are free. Then what? And what are the remaining seals?”

Asteria sighed. Why must they ask so many questions?

“I do not know what the seals are but once the seventh is broken, the earth will go silent. It may not be then, but sooner or later humanity will cease to exist and there is nothing that can be done to stop it.”

She had no more to say.

Father Blackwood departed shortly after, and Death as well. Ambrose stood on the porch and watched as the saturated sunset waned to black. He had no idea where the pale rider was going. Perhaps to meet with her siblings, but he knew there was no reason or no way to stop her. There was still time before the endgame; still time to maybe stop it.

“Ambrose, darling, come inside.”

Hilda stood in the doorway.

“I need to figure this out, Auntie. There has to be a way to stop the apocalypse from happening.”

Hilda smiled.

“We’ll figure it out,” she promised.

Ambrose had no doubts. He was however bothered by the fact, he nor the High Priest knew about the first four seals opening. And on the eve of Sabrina’s birthday no less. Were the two somehow connected? Perhaps they were.

But how?

#faustus blackwood #the chilling adventures of sabrina #faustus blackwood x oc

[chibi-tsukiko]

Thanks Brother

A quick drabble for @carstairgray Parabatai Week Day One : Jace & Alec

I hope you like it 🙈

Tag list : @legendofconsullightwood @themostawesomehuman @littleturtle95 @justaburningpile @morgnstern @zfoxdraws @bookworm-jedi @magnus-the-maqnificent @banesbitch @fair-but-wilde-child @beclynn-herondale @khaleesiofalicante @my-archerboy @youngreckless @runecarstairs @high-warlock-of-brooklyn @ninacarstairss

He’s surrounded.

He takes a step back before slicing down another demon. It crumbles to the ground and two more take its place.

He takes a chance to sneak a glance over his shoulder and barely twists away from a shax demon before plunging his sword into its head. Above him, he glimpses an arrow flying.

A weight in his chest settles.

He doesn’t know how long they’ve been out here. He’d lost sight of Alec once the hoard appeared and no matter how many he cuts through, he can’t seem to reach him. His movements are getting stiff from fatigue and caked on ichor. The tip of his seraph blade is dull, but they just keep coming.

Slash!

Two more down.

Three take its place.

There’s a cry in the distance and Jace briefly wonders if it’s his own voice. His bones ache.

Ahead of him, the monsters crowd in a circle. No.

Another cry rings out and he takes off in a full sprint. His vision is a blur of ash and metal. A sharp pain in his chest sends him toppling forward. His blood is on fire, he clutches his left shoulder.

No.

He stumbles to stand and pushes himself forward, throwing himself into the pile. He rips through the demons with his bare hands, his heart twisting into his throat.

Alec.

His shoulder burns.

Alec.

His vision blurs.

Alec.

He can taste blood.

A shadow passes over him and he turns towards it, just for a second.

A falcon?

When he turns back, the demons have vanished. Bile churns in his stomach. Panic takes over, adrenaline powering him to run. He runs, and he runs, and he runs. But there’s nothing. Nothing.

Jace?

Alec.

Jace.

Where are you? I can’t find you. Wait for me ok. Hang on.

“Jace!”

He lurches forward, heaving, while his eyes adjust to the dark.

“Hey.” the voice places a tentative hand on his shoulder causing him to flinch away.

“It’s ok. It’s just me.”

“A-Alec?” he croaks, his voice hoarse.

“Yeah.” Alec answers, reaching back to touch Jace’s arm. This time, Jace doesn’t pull away.

“I didn’t think I was going to wake you up. You were pretty deep in there.”

“Sorry.” Jace mutters, rubbing unconsciously at his shoulder.

Alec shakes his head, “don’t be. You ok?”

Jace takes him in, scanning, searching for injuries or flaws in the illusion. But he’d know those blue eyes with stringy black hair anywhere. He’s here. The nightmare’s over. For now.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” He lies

Alec tilts his head skeptically.

“Really. I’m good. Thanks for getting me out of there.” Jace says, patting Alec on the shoulder.

“Of course. I’ll always have your back.” Alec smiles.

“Even in my dreams?” Jace smirks.

“Always.” Alec promises.

A calm washes over him. The nightmare eradicated by his Parabatai’s steadfast truth.

“Just don’t let Magnus find out, ok? I don’t wanna live the rest of my life as a coat rack.” He jokes.

Alec laughs, a pink tint blooming on his cheeks.

“Go get some sleep,” Jace instructs. “I’m good.”

“If you say so.” Alec shrugs, laying down on his side.

“What are you doing?” Jace asks, looking down at him

“Getting some sleep,” Alec answers, “You should too. Come on,” he smacks the empty side of the pillow next to him.

Jace stares for a moment, “You don’t have to…”

“I know.”

Slowly, Jace lays back down in the bed, his head spinning as the silence stretches between them.

“It’ll be ok.” Alec says quietly.

Jace feels movement by his side as Alec slides his hand out, palm facing the ceiling.

“I got your back.”

Jace takes it, giving it a squeeze, “I know” he says, “thanks brother.”

#Parabatai week #my writing #jace and alec #parabatai #alec lightwood #jace herondale #tsc #shadowhunters #the shadowhunter chronicles #emsfic #emsfics #parabatai week

[reyloyal]

Stronghold ~ a Medieval Reylo Story - chapter 2

warnings and summary- Masterlist

The kings words of warning became his own source of frustration.

He truly could not go back into the forest until he knew what to do about the witch. But what could be done with a woman he felt powerless too? A woman who was so clearly connected to things beyond his comprehension...

He'd been told that all women like her were eradicated generations ago. As a boy the stories briefly held his interest. The rumors of women who learned the dark arts in secret, or hid their born talents held a sort of romantic mystery and rebellion. And now to know one in the flesh… he’d not felt a sense of awe like this since Snoke took him from the family home to raise him in the temple. And while he was not certain she was able to use her naturally gifted talents like a priest would, she was more than capable of bewitching him with ease.

A single step into her woods and he'd forget his purpose again -nothing but a fool drawn to her beauty and power- she would subject him to whatever magic she’d used on him the first time. Magic that lingered on, making him restless and unable to sleep even now. He could still feel her prying into his mind. The effect of it left him walking around feeling as though his head were split open and exposed.

He would not risk it. So there was nothing that could be done until he found out more about her. A way to defeat the woman at her own game.

Fortunately, as a conquering warrior king who was quick to gain a reputation for his violent impatience, the people were more inclined to give information than withhold it.

After sending Hux into the village, with the strength of his best knights Ushar and Cardo to stand behind him, it became clear that the town had a history with the girl. The people of Niima were scared to speak of the past, but the shining edge of a sword was known to loosen tongues quickly and Hux was soon told there were two people who knew her story best.

Sitting in the squalid dwelling of an elderly couple, the king listened intently, ignoring the smell.

“Why did the people turn her away?” He asked after the pair had given him a brief introduction to the witch’s history.

The old woman shrugged, the old man sighed, his eyes glassing over. “People can be so cruel my lord.” And Ren could not help but to feel the bite in his words.

“We tried to help her.” His wife added standing behind the mans’ chair across from Ren. “We’d take a crust of bread, some soup if we could manage. Set it down at the edge of her woods. Sometimes blankets. I like to think we helped keep her alive in those early years.”

“And how old did you say she was?”

“Oh, must have been no more than five, maybe six?” The woman replied.

Apparently the people of this village had chased the child away, an orphaned child, but why? There was still a piece of this puzzle missing. “Had she caused some harm to anyone here?”

The couple looked at one another now, a secret shared between them.

“Speak” Ren ordered.

The old man looked up, and a glimmer of his more youthful self showed as he did. “Not only can people be cruel, they can also be stupid.”

Ren snorted a laugh and nodded.

“They would punish a child for the sins of her father…”

“Grandfather.” The woman corrected.

Now this, was truly interesting. “Who is she?” He asked needing to know.

The old man rested his arms on the table, leaning in to speak low “There was a man of magic my lord. A great man, feared by all. Long before your time, but I remember hearing of him as he reigned terror down on the people of his king’s dominion. A great man among his own kind, of your Sith religion some say he was.”

Ren felt his blood run cold. He knew all the greatest priests. Who could this man mean.

“Palpatine, was his name. And he was her grandfather.”

Ren sat back, his eyes narrowing and looking off to the dark walls as he tried to accept this. “No, I don’t believe you.” He said stunned. He had in fact heard of the long dead warlock. The story was before his time, the old man had been right about that, but it was still a story told as a warning, the promised punishment for the sin of coveting power was insanity and death, and his life was a parable told to teach this lesson.

Palpatine had used his dark magic without balance, and the black arts drove him mad, his lust for power unending. The story goes, he killed his own king and went on to rule with terror until he was finally killed, though the stories of who did it or how were never very clear.

It was seen as a dark time for the ancient religion, but because it happened across the Bent Sea, it was never more than that —a story— too removed from their lives to be real.

But now… here was a piece of that tale, alive and breathing, if what these two told him was true.

“Rumors, they was, but powerful enough to follow that child all the way here.” The old man went on. “She came through with a traveling peddler, he being the one who told his buyers he’d acquired the heir to the dark mage. Liked to say if they haggled too much, she’d burn ‘em with her power —you know people in run down places like this will believe anything” The old man said shaking his head at their ignorance. “I believe she got tired of his stories and mistreatment and run off to hide from him, right in our barn, before it burnt down.”

“But why was she with a peddler?” Ren asked.

The old woman shrugged. “Who knows, she was an orphan by the time she came to Jakku, and a hungry dirty one by the time she came to Niima. The man used her to find things to sell, do work, you know the sort, buy her for nothin’ keep her for a lifetime of servitude. I don’t blame her for running.”

“The man didn’t try to get her back?”

The woman shook her head “For a day or so, but, lots of children loose their parents and men like that are always looking for new hands to scavenge.”

He did know the sort.

“So you see, she was never really welcome here. Grew up on her own out there since people feared she’d use her born talent to curse them, even if they were just rumors. Then folks got curious, started snooping and said they saw her out there dancin’ naked with ghosts and such. Who knows, none of our business really. Im just happy she’s alive and not gone completely wild,”

“Oh, she’s beyond domestication,” Ren tossed out, rolling his eyes. “Thank you, you’ve been a great help. Hux!” He called, and the man was there in the shack with a bag of coins.

“For your trouble,” Hux said and tossed the sack onto the table before turning to go.

Ren stood, nearly filing the room and left the couple to stare down at the bag of gold that had the ability to change their lives forever, though they clung to one another hoping they had not said to much and put the dear girl in harms way. "It'll be alright" The man said patting his wife's small hand once the king and his men had gone. "She's not likely to be threatened by him. You know our girl is more powerful than any fool of a king Jocasta."

The old woman nodded her agreement but she could sense something happening, something far beyond her control and she feared telling him might have pushed the man towards Rey instead of away. "I'll go to her in warning, confess that we told"

"You'll do no such thing, and we will fix the holes in our roof." Her husband Frik said and his word was final, leaving his wife to settle back with her worry for the girl.

Once outside, Ren and Hux took deep breaths of the air that was only slightly less offensive than in the shack.

A group of filthy children went running past, squealing and screaming, possibly playing, the king wasn’t sure, but he watched them for a while

“Everything alright my lord?” Hux asked glancing up at the king.

Ren nodded as the children began to fight. One pulled the others hair, while another came and bit the hair puller.

“Perhaps they did her a kindness after all.” He said and quickly mounted his horse to leave.

*

Crickets chirped their symphony in tune with the distant call of the white owl as Rey watched her spirit guide fade away, crossing the unseen divide between worlds.

She sat at the edge of the now quiet summoning circle, feeling alone again and suddenly cold in the way one does when the person next to them leaves.

Letting out a long slow sigh, she raised her eyes up to the black sky, watching the stars fade in and out. The moon hung in a thick slice of chalky white and she took some comfort in it, though the images she tried to make sense of stole any joy from her the second she remembered what was seen in his mind, and what her guide had revealed.

She could not go on pretending to ignore what she knew about the king, his men, and now about herself.

She should have never pried, she should not have reached out and touched him, but the force was nearly screaming for her to look. It damn near insisted she see.

And see she did, all of it… overwhelmed but with a better understanding, she stood to clean up after herself.

As she went to grab her broom to sweep up the ash and salt, Rey wondered if she would sleep tonight with such vibrant visions rolling over in her mind, or would she give in and reach out to him, ignoring the voice in her head saying to let him go, let him die, let his end come and let the kingdom be.

leaning on the handle of her broom, she looked up at the sky once more knowing she would not.

*

Kylo paced in his room, eyelids heavy with lack of sleep as he found the dark hours of night to be the worst.

The moaning and cries of the suffering men were deeply unsettling, even to a man who had killed and maimed, the prolonged agony was too much.

He was nearing desperation, and a desperate king is a dangerous one.

The only source of distraction that seemed to keep his head level was this new knowledge of who the woman was.

Rey.

The story the old couple told, had given him a better understanding of her connection to those whispers of dark magic, and a better sense of what to do.

People who did not understand the teachings of the Sith were often afraid of all forms of magic, especially ones so far removed from the capital city of Alderaan. There the religion had stripped away the impurities that once tainted the gods gift of magic. But these wretches, living on the fringes of society still lived with a fear of the dark arts that helped him sympathize with why they ran her out of the village, still it was probably unwarranted when she’d been so young.

However, If she truly was a descendent of the great priest Palpatine, she should have been discovered long before this, and he could only guess that she’d created her place in the forest as a form of protection, not only from the villagers but from those who might wish to enact revenge on the girl for her grandfathers ill deeds.

What a shame, he thought stopping in the middle of the room. Such untapped potential should have a master and a purpose just as he had been guided from childhood, though sadly, the king would never be as great as Snoke or the other lesser priests and pupils (as he’d been told since he was a boy), but what he lacked in magical abilities, he more than made up for in strength on the battle field, and an unparalleled capacity to lead.

It did occur to him that some few, very fortunate kings, were known to have a mage ride along side them during times of conquest. He’d never heard of a woman being given the title, but he was sure the gods would see fit to make allowances for such a unique occurrence.

Should she prove to be as strong as her lineage suggests, Rey might make an accomplice that could see him take the known world…

He rubbed his eyes and looked across the room from where he stood, gazing out the open window, up at the black sky full of stars, and wondered if she was awake too.

Hux warned that he’d grown obsessed, but the chancellor didn’t understand.

This was an incredible discovery, almost as notable as her beauty, he thought with a fleeting smile.

Standing at the window now, Ren felt a slight pull, a distant call from the east that toyed with him. He needed to go back to her… he must go back.

Grunting acceptance of the urge he was forced to resist, the king sighed and shut the panels.

The fact remained that he still had no answers for the men, and a physical body to lay blame on would have benefited him greatly. The soldiers wanted someone to hate for their condition and it could not be him, so why not her? Killing a witch would give them a sense of vengeance, even if a real cure could not be found, at least their king would have given them a cause for their torment, imagined or not.

But even as he thought it, Kylo knew it would never happen.

Once again the idea of taking her life seemed to drain him of his own, as he was hopelessly enamored with the woman in spite of her still being no more than a stranger to him.

There were also the ramifications of killing the granddaughter of a legendary mage to contend with. And if it were not a sin, it most certainly should be.

Although, there was the possibility that Rey was as dangerous as her grandfather —a threat to the king and his religious order, he thought with a start.

Perhaps she was waiting for the right time to strike and take Snoke’s position for herself…

Ren sighed and laughed at his overactive mind, aware that there was some truth in Hux’s accusations of obsession, and started for the bed.

These wild, rambling thoughts were the result of surviving on too little sleep after too many sleepless nights.

But he took the small comfort of knowledge with him to the sheets, certain he might finally find relief from the insomnia.

Lying on his back, Kylo rested his head on his arm and starred up into the dark, until at last the quiet washed over him and he slept.

“Wake up”

The king sat up in his room, as alert as he had been a few hours before.

His heart thudded in his chest, he could feel the blood pumping as he looked around.

Someone was in the room, but he saw nothing changed, the door was still shut, the window too.

“Who’s there?” He said, his voice clear and deep.

“Wake up king, listen to me,”

That soft, sweet voice…It was her. He peered into the dark, straining to find her, realizing he already had. His eyes darted back to the window, and there he saw her, shimmering in the glass, a pale spectre, beautiful and faint.

“Rey?” He could not fathom how she’d done it, but she had, and he quickly got up from the bed, elated at first, but then hesitant. This was no small feat of strength. To do something like this she must be able to channel the power of other magic bearers, but no others were near.

Curious, Kylo went to the window and reached, laying his large hand on the pane, the signet ring on his little finger clicking against the glass “How are you doing this?” He asked looking around, then down through the window to the grounds below.

Nothing, the world was dark and still. But there she was floating as though she existed inside the glass itself.

“Please, no questions, just listen. There are three among you who claim loyalty, but their hearts have long since turned against you. Traitors sleep under this roof tonight king. Seek them out. Before it’s too late.”

For a moment the man was still, his bare chest rising slowly as he breathed in her warning. He shut his eyes damning her as adrenaline coursed through his body.

Kylo turned away, the rage of betrayal igniting his notorious temper “Who!” He seethed.

“I can not say, but, when you find them, you will be free to go.”

Spinning he looked at the fading image of her. “Wait. Can you see me?” He asked still shocked by the power she possessed. Not even Snoke had displayed something like this to him before.

“I see everything.”

Her shy gaze flitted over his half naked form before she looked away, a soft flush rising up her cheeks.

Ren’s heart beat heavy with the knowledge of this connection between them. The feeling was so profound he nearly forgot she’d appeared to give him this fateful message. “Why are you helping me?” He asked. The witch was no supporter of his, she'd made that more than clear and he could not say that he blamed her.

“Be well king, you have lived a life that was never your own.”

Her eyes met his again, and in them he saw the soft look of understanding and sympathy.

“In time, you may come to find it tiresome. When you do wish to rest, perhaps your choices will allow it to be peaceful,”

And before he could command her to stay, the rippling image of Rey was gone.

The room was silent again, his feelings for her and his curiosity as to how she seemed to know so much about him faded to hate for the traitors. He let the discovery sink in and his anger grow once more.

Ren turned, thick hair in his face, jaw clenched and teeth bared as he set his mind to the hunt.

*

The king’s mission was unrelenting and in two days, the traitors had been sniffed out.

Justification was his and Ren felt a sense of resolution in knowing that he’d guessed correctly after all. His accusations had simply been misplaced.

Poison was a cruel choice, and the culprits knew the slow death they’d damned the army to, still they’d continued dosing the water buckets used by the soldiers.

During their interrogations, between broken teeth and noses, blood pouring from gashes left by the angry fists of their fellow men at arms, they confessed that they had grown tired of the fight and of Ren’s cruel orders. Seeing little hope of humanity among them, they chose to end the unstoppable force of the northern army right along side their beloved ruler —or so they’d thought.

The thing these men did not know, was that the poison they’d used had been one of the first that all young royals, with a promise of the throne were exposed to during their training with the Sith, making them immune.

Kings who could be killed so easily weren’t very practical, which was one of the many reasons why being trained within those stark halls was an honor for any who would eventually be crowned.

With their plot to murder the king and his army a failure, the men now stood in the field behind Vonreg’s manor—ready to meet their fate.

It was a quiet morning, the sound of bird song cheerful in the distant gardens. With the sun shining down on the field and the agony of the men hushed, the reason for the gathering could not have been guessed by any who passed.

As the traitors were line up, one behind the next, the antidotes natural ingredients were being collected by the women of the village on Ren’s orders.

Knowing the cure was within reach, the ranks were calm with the guarantee of relief. Many of the men seemed strengthened by the discovery of the cause for their plight and those who could manage, asked to be propped up and they leaned forward to watch as their King acted out the sentence, which (as all had suspected it to be) was death.

Throughout the king’s life, there had never been a man or woman who looked on him and doubted his physical ability. In a room of one hundred men he would stand among the tallest. Broad shouldered with arms and legs of solid muscle, he was built to strike fear and want into all those he met.

Standing in the sun now, broad sword held so that all may see, he towered over the first of the traitors— kneeling with his neck stretched over the block— and looked every part the god-king Snoke had molded him to be.

His finely made armor caught the light, blinding the men who watched each time he moved.

Lifting his sword high with both hands, he brought it down with the heavy precision needed to remove a head from a body in a single blow.

Once, twice, three times, and it was finished.

Sliding his gloved hand across his face, smearing the splatters of blood, the king stalked towards his surviving army, and pointed his dripping blade at them without saying a word.

The men looked to their king knowing that this was a warning, not an act of vengeance for their sake, but a display showing that the same fate would fall —sharp as his swords edge— and take their heads too should they choose to rise against him.

“Long live the king!” Hux shouted as Ren turned and walked away, practically tossing his weapon into the arms of his squire who tumbled backwards under the weight.

“Long live the king!” The men echoed as he left them.

*

Inside the narrow manor halls, Ren pulled at the straps and buckles that kept his armor on.

Down towards the Dukes baths, he trudged, desperate to wash the hot blood from his face.

He hated it. Hated killing. Not because he didn’t have the stomach for it, but because these men continued to be foolish enough to force his hand.

“Fucking, bastards” He grumbled wanting to be free of it, to just sit in the dark and vanish for a while.

Once he’d made his way underground, past the cellars and into the nearly cave-like room which housed the bath, the servants assisted the king, pulling off the remaining layers until he stood bare in the dim room. Looking over at the waiting water, Ren mentally thanked Vonreg for having enough good taste to build his estate near the river, which more easily allowed for such indulgences.

As the servants made off with his dirty clothes (too frightened to touch the armor) Ren walked down the shallows steps into the stone pool and turned his back to the wall. With a quiet breath the king sank into the warmth slipping under the water to lie in the womblike silence.

When the need for air forced him up, Ren pushed to sitting, running two aching hands over his face, sliding them back over his hair.

Shutting his eyes he lay like a rock, his neck resting on the ledge of the bath and sighed.

How many more would betray him… How many more would seek to ruin him?

Was he not a good and just king? He was strong and brave enough to lead his own army into battle instead of sitting inside a comfortable tent like others might. And when the fighting was finished and they’d claimed another land as their own, did he not offer his men all that they could ever want…. So why then did they always want more? And when would more be enough…. Perhaps it was not more they wanted?

“Are you tired of it yet?”

The kings eyes sprang open but he did not sit up.

The Witch. Rey.

“I am” He told her, the surprise of her arrival fading faster this time.

“Me too… I, am tired of hiding. You, want to disappear. Maybe that is what brought us together.” She wondered aloud,

“That was fear and superstition… and perhaps a desire to find answers more digestible than mutiny” He answered splashing water onto the stone floor as he rose up to sitting.

The king was met with the shimmering image of her sitting across from him. Her face was highlighted by the glow of candles scattered about the room, but it was the sight of her long legs in that lotus position that distracted him, but only for a moment. He had so many questions for her and no idea of where to begin.

“How do you know so much?” He finally asked.

“I saw everything when I touched you.” She easily replied.

He could still feel the hard press of her fingers. “You did something to me that day that I’ve only heard rumors of.” Was her ability to invade ones mind inherited or learned, He wondered, but then, who would have taught her?

“It doesn’t matter, just know that you will live to fight another day.”

She sounded disappointed.

“You’re unhappy?”

“I saved you and your men, yet I still look for answers as to why I made that choice.”

“Could it be that you prefer me alive over dead?”

“I don’t prefer you at all” A hint of surprise at his suggestion laced her words and her ghostly head turned away, defiant.

“It would seem you and my men have that in common” He replied, sorry for the truth of it and for the sting in his heart.

She looked back at him and sighed, shaking her head as though he were a troublesome child.

“Did you even hear them before you acted?”

“What?”

“Did you hear their last words? Their reasons for doing it?”

He often forgot to bother with that bit (when prisoners were even given last words) but this time, he’d asked Hux what the leader of the three said.

“They, didn’t want to move on.” He admitted. “Said they wanted to be let go of their duties to their king, for —my path was “not one they could follow.” He mocked.

“And yet you killed them anyway.”

“They were traitors.” He said scowling at her. “You would have me let murderers live among us? Why bother telling me at all if that’s how you feel.”

“You’re all murderers.”

She spoke so bluntly. Her persistent lack of a healthy fear for his authority irritated him to no end, like a grain of sand in his eye. A deep growling dismissal of her words vibrated in his chest. “I am a king. This is what being a king is,”

“Really? Is that so?”

“And, how many kings do you know? If memory serves, you said none.”

“I know only men, men who wish to rule, men who have ruled and men who will. Kings are nothing but the stuff of dreams. Arrogance and entitlement with a pretty crown.”

He was beginning to wish she would disappear as quickly as she had a few nights before.

“Don’t look so hurt. You know who and what you are. And while your ways frighten me, they’re not so much worse than ones who came before you. I’ve seen the same viciousness in others. And I’ve seen them change.”

“And why would I want to change.” He asked, fingers moving in the water as he looked away, angry that he’d not immediately dismissed the idea.

“Why would you want to stay the same?”

Ren took his time looking back into her eyes.

She was younger than him, he was nearly certain, and yet she spoke as though she’d already lived a lifetime. She mystified him, confused him, angered him, intrigued him…“How are you doing this? Tell me.” He asked moving past the strong feelings to change the course of the conversation.

“It’s not just me, it’s you too. When I looked, I could see that you have the gift as well. Like I said, we’re similar.”

She was mistaken. Anything she might have seen in that moment was a direct result of her magic as his talents were few, but her… Does she not know, he wondered. Who she is, who she comes from? If she didn’t he would not tell her like this. He felt it only right to say in person that she possessed the blood of an unmatched mage. A warlock of no comparison.

“Will you come to me?” He asked sitting up straight. “I, think we should meet once more before I go.”

Rey looked at him and shook her head, her hair falling over her shoulder. “I will not. If you want to see me again, you’ll come here to me, though I can’t see the point in it.”

Without the threat of being poisoned, the prospect seemed less troubling than it might have a few days ago, but still, he was a busy man with people to lead. What would they think if he went off, disappearing into the forest without good reason this time.

Kylo quickly shook those worries from his mind. He was king, and no one would dare question him. They’d watched him dispose of three men in three strokes. No, he would do as he pleased.

“I will come to you,” He said, happy at the prospect of seeing her in the flesh, yet, nervous anticipation flashed in his dark eyes.

She seemed uneasy as well, but with a single nod, her permission was given, and her ghost faded from view, leaving him alone to sit and wonder if he was making a wise choice.

*

Alone in his rooms that night, the king took out pen and paper.

Starring at the blank page, his mind drifted for a while, seemingly unable to put his thoughts down in ink, until finally he chose honesty and began to write.

High Priest Snoke,

I write to you from my temporary residence in the village of Niima.

While our losses here held back the advance, it can not go unsaid that we made a quick and all together uneventful show of arms, defeating the kingdoms army a few weeks ago as my other ravens sent have informed you. It is with confidence that I ready the army to complete the final conquest.

And so I write to you now, not as king, but as a man, and a servant of the order. I have met someone, a young woman, who has shown some talent in the ways of magic that I believe you should be made aware of. I know of the purging history, but I feel this woman is more than an overlooked conjurer. I intend to find out more about her as I would not waste the time writing if I did not find the matter worthy of some attention. There is a strange feeling of being pulled towards a lighter sense of self when one is too near her. We proceed south in our efforts to sack Bespin in two days. I will send another raven after the victory with an update on any findings about the girl.

—Ren

He folded the letter, dripped the wax and pressed his ring creating a seal.

His page came running as soon as he was summoned and Ren handed the letter to him, giving the boy instructions to have it in the air that night.

Once he was alone again, the king retreated to the small dining room near his suit and sat at the window-side table where he’d take breakfast each morning.

His men finally slept in silence now that the fever was gone, and the antidote administered, but his world would not stay quiet.

Thoughts of Rey —of who and what she was, bombarded his mind with a chaotic clatter. So much so that he thought of calling for the boy to come back and instruct him not to send the raven, only to think better of it and let him go.

Snoke should be informed, he convinced himself. He is the high priest after all, and any source of magic would be reported to him now that Ren had expanded the Sith religion south throughout the kindgoms.

And yet, the nagging sensation of having done something wrong continued to eat away at the king. As though he’d betrayed her somehow, exposed a secret she’d kept for so long to someone who could so easily be her enemy.

But high priest or not, Snoke was a subject under authority of the king. And if the man thought Rey might be a threat or wished to cause her harm, Ren would simply not allow it. After all, his duty as savior of this place was to protect it’s people.

He looked down at his hands resting on the table and sighed, wondering if such strength could be used to save instead of kill, and if he would ever choose to try.

*

“A letter for you my king” Hux said turning away from the messenger boy.

He crossed the dark room and delivered the letter to Ren who stood in the window of his chambers, brooding as he seemed to do here in Jakku.

Glancing at the scroll in Hux’s hand, the king saw the mark of Snoke’s stamp and took it, opening it quickly.

King Kylo Ren, First of his name, follower of the way,

If what you say is true, and this woman has garnered enough interest that you thought to write to me, then my advice to you is simple. Keep her close, do not let this witch out of your sight and when the battles are over and your expansion satisfactory, bring her home to me and I will assess her talents properly. Until then, know that a woman of magic can be a terrible thing, one worthy of a Kings attentions even more so. She is untrustworthy as are most of her sex, but with the ability to trick and stumble a man, she is a danger.

Be safe young Lord, remember who you are, and though magic is not strong with you, your power is of body and mind. Do not let her sway you from your path, steer her towards yours.

Be well.

Your humble servant,

High Priest, Snoke

Ren moved to sit in the chair at the writing desk and tossed the paper onto it.

“Is everything alright my Lord?” Hux asked cautiously walking towards him.

No, he wanted to say. I’ve made a mistake, he answered silently but had no desire to say it aloud.

Hux was his friend of a sort, as friends of kings go, and yet, he was not sure he could trust him with this either.

With a slow exhale through flared nostrils he reckoned with the fact that there were times he felt truly alone —much like Rey.

“Nothing you should worry over.” He lied and slid the paper aside, still stewing over the words as he tried to figure out his next steps.

Keep her close?

He rubbed his chin slowly thinking this over. Keeping her close would mean taking her from her home, as he had no intentions of staying in this hellish mud put. But the idea felt surprisingly wrong. He imagined her tearful heartbreak at being carted away, but, if she were a terrible danger then Snoke was right to suggest it.

He sat wrestling with the idea for some time until he shook his head wanting to be done with the dilemma.

Perhaps, he thought, if he simply asked, she might be willing to come with him… what wonders might she posses? He now imagined her wiping out enemy forces with a flick of her wrist, which was amusing, but there was some genuine curiosity in this too. He’d seen the things Snoke and the lesser priests could do, she might possess similar powers.

Feeling determined, Ren stood and called for his page to help him dress.

He’d promised to go to her, so he would, but with more than secrets, now he came with a proposition, and should she refuse —his authority as king.

*

Three days after she’d found Ren in the baths, Rey sensed a presence in her woods.

Not a seeker or a lost soul, no one in need of help in the usual ways, but one desperate indeed.

She stood, her hunting forgotten, and listened as he neared.

The sound of his heart was as it had been the first time. A strong, steady beat instantly familiar.

Now that she knew who this particular rhythm belonged to, she felt her own pulse quicken.

Brushing the dirt and sticks from her skirts, she picked up her basket of small game and findings, and headed back for the clearing.

He’d found her easier than she’d expected and seemed to be looking for the stone steps to the doorway, as if it weren’t cloaked in magic.

Rey smiled and sighed.

Poor man.

“Hello King” She said walking up.

Ren turned, glaring down at her, unsure if she was really there or not.

“You came back.” She said.

His expression softened as he nodded. “I did.”

Rey could not stop the tiny smile that turned up the corners of her lips.

She nodded for him to follow and went to a half fallen log where she sat her basket of mushrooms, ramps and one small rabbit down, and invited him to take a seat as well.

When he did, she drew back, having not expected him to sit so close.

It was hard to breathe when he was so near, his size was stifling in a way that made her muscles tense, and a place deep in her belly tingle. The unexpected response her body had to his alarmed her. Looking up into his clear hazel eyes, she accepted the feelings but set them aside as nothing more than nature and spoke.

“Tell me, why did you want to come back? I don’t understand. You found the culprits, it was not me, as I told you the first time. There’s nothing for you here now.”

He shrugged slightly, “Isn’t there?” He asked, no shame in his meaning.

She felt a flush rise up her neck as her eyes flicked down to his full lips set in a stern line. “I, don’t think… I should finish my work,” She stammered, flustered as she stood to walk away, but he took hold of her by the wrist, much more gently this time and pulled her back, so that they were looking nearly eye to eye now.

“You saved my life Rey. And my army. I owe you a debt.” He said, though it seemed there was much more to his words than simple gratitude, and the warmth of his gentle voice covered her until she felt her defenses melt away like the iced river in spring.

Looking off through the trees, Rey swallowed the emotions and raised her head. No matter what the visions had revealed, she was certain of the things she knew about this king. And no magic was needed to understand who and what he was. “I saved the life of a man who brings terror wherever he goes.” She said turning her head to him. “I should be punished for it. Not thanked.”

Her honesty bothered him, she could see that, but it did little to stop her from speaking her mind.

“When I first saw you” She said leaning just a little closer. “You came riding down into the valley on your black horse, head high after a battle where you crushed the army of a good king with savagery and little honor. Your men have terrorized the people of this village. You came here to my home, ready to take my head without knowing if I was guilty of your fabrications or not, and when you move on to the next kingdom, you’ll do the same, until you’ve killed and taken all that there is, until there’s nothing left. Even your own men grow weary of it.”

Her words were powerful, and Ren leaned away, the warmth in his eyes turning to something more akin to hurt, if not shock, and he let go of her.

Rey quickly left, walking off towards the trees, trying her damndest not to break down. The truth was on her side, but it was regret that she felt. Regret that she was secretly happy she’d saved him. She’d allowed her own feelings to stop her from doing the right thing by letting those men poison his army. She should have let them put an end to Ren’s rule, but those sleepless nights plagued by visions of faceless soldiers dropping poison into the water had been unbearable. Try as she might, she’d not been able to escape the sight, and the agony of the ones who drank seemed to torture her own body —it had been too much. She wanted nothing more than to end their suffering, and yes, to save him from such a fate, a fate that had become so intwined with her own…Rey pushed the visions of the future from her mind quickly, listening as he approached.

“In time, you’ll see.” Ren said walking up. “The things I do are for the good of the people. I understand, it’s not what you would do, but —perhaps you can offer some advice when I need it.” He said stopping when he was near.

“What do you mean?” She turned to look up at him, confused.

“I told you, I owe you a debt.” He spoke from the heart it would seem “I’ve come with… an opportunity.”

Instantly Rey felt the world growing dark around her. This was not what she’d been expecting.

The connection between them was undeniable, and she’d assumed he wanted to understand it as she did, but this? This was something else entirely.

“Come with me.” He offered bluntly.

Rey stepped back, her breath growing shallow.

“Come with me and use your powers for something that matters. Your name will be known. The people will fear you as you take your place at my side,”

“At your side?” She could not believe he would dare say such a thing and wondered if he’d seen the visions too.

“As my mage. Few kings have been so lucky to know one as powerful as you, I think it was fate that brought me here, that brought us together.” He said, painfully eager to thrust this offer on her without the slightest consideration of her feelings.

“What makes you think I’m so powerful?” She asked, hoping for both their sakes he would not say what she feared most.

He smiled, just a little as he stepped closer. “I know who you are Rey, you’re not meant to live alone in the woods, hiding from another persons past… I know who your family is.”

She felt sick as he spoke. How could he have known? How could he have found out so quickly. Years she’d spent quieting talks of her lineage, years she’d spent atoning for the sins of a man she never knew. Once the whispers had been silenced, she’d been quite successful in living a life free from the dark shadow of Palpatine. Until now.

“You think you’ve unearthed some great secret?” She asked through a snicker of contempt. “I know who I am, and I will not use what I possess to help you, or anyone. I choose this life, I live alone by choice, my choice, and no other!” She snapped and turned from him.

“Thats not true,” He said calmly. “You told me. You’re tired of hiding. Remember. I know you want to be rid of this place. To see, and do, all the things you’ve only heard about from those free to live it. You envy them, but I am offering you a chance to be that person and more.”

The hairs on the back of her neck raised, and she studied him from over her shoulder. The king’s abilities were far more than he knew.

He’d just spoken her own thoughts aloud. Thoughts she’d had as she sat across from him in the underground baths… and he hadn’t the slightest idea. Fascinating.

Still, she did not dare to say yes to this offer.

“I can not, Kylo, please.” She said looking away again, for the only thing that frightened her more than saying no was how much she longed to say yes, if for nothing more than for a chance to do just as he’d said, to live a full life without fear of her past, free of these unwarranted burdens… but not like this, and not with him.

The king however was not used to hearing no, and it seemed he would not give up so easily.

“Out here, living amongst squirrels and rabbits —you’ll disappear. No one will ever know that you existed at all, outside of whispers and stories. This life keeps you tied to your past. I say, let the past die —kill it, if you have to. That’s the only way to become who you’re meant to be.”

Tears were brimming in her eyes. His words were so full of hope, and he spoke them so gently, like the loving stroke of a strong hand along her cheek.

“Out here,” He went on “You’ve no place in the story. Out here —you’re nothing,”

She took a shaking breath as the tears fell.

“But not to me.” He said and stepped forward as she turned to face him fully. The king raised his gloved hand towards her. “I want you to join me… please."

Rey could not stop the faint gasp that escaped her lips before turning away. She shut her eyes; the sight of him pleading with her too much.

“Do not ask this of me.” She managed.

“Let me show you what I see when I look at you Rey. Let me teach you how to become so much more than this.”

Shaking her head she waved him away before starting for the steps to take her home.

“My lady…” The king called to her back. “If you don’t come willingly, I’m afraid I’ll have no choice” He seemed to force the words from his mouth.

Rey froze, stunned by this quick turn.

She faced him, their eyes meeting, and she saw his capacity for cruelty alive in them.

Of course, how foolish had she been. He was still the arrogant king that rode into the village, the blood of good men staining his blade.

“You offer me your hand, then threaten me when I don’t take it?” She asked feeling her own harsh nature spark to life.

“It’s for the protection of the people.” He said, “I have every reason to believe that unless you’re kept close, and your powers assessed properly, you could be a danger to my subjects.”

With a groan Rey hung her head. Surely these words were not his own. They did not come from him in a way that felt natural and she wondered for a moment who they belonged too —and one voice she’d heard in his mind echoed loudly.

“You know thats not true.” She said peeking up at him. “You can not possibly think something like that is true. What have I done to give you that impression.”

“It’s not what you’ve done.”

“No, it’s not is it.” She brushed the last of her tears away as she marched up to Ren. “All your talk of killing the past, when it’s that very thing that draws you in… scares you.” Her eyes narrowed as she spoke. “It’s him. It’s the damned name that I don’t even use. I’m Rey, just Rey! Not Palpatine! I was not there! I did not commit his crimes!” She insisted, her words growing louder as her eyes grew dark and furious. “I’ve done nothing! And yet you, and people like you seek me out, to lay blame and accuse me of things that I have no control over, things that happened when I wasn’t even alive!”

He looked up, noticing how the the trees creaked like old bones stirring as the sky began to dim.

“You come here, to my home, first threatening me, and then demanding I join you as some sort of what? A gift? Some way out? As though you might save me!” She let out a shout of aggravation. “I am nothing! I like being nothing. Better to be nothing than to be the fear in peoples eyes. That fear you see in them before they even know your name. You know the look. I’m sure of it.” She shook her head, disappointed in him. “You dare come here and threaten me again!” Rey could feel it happening, the surge, the white heat that rose form her core and would show in an ugly way, but he’d brought this on himself. He deserved it, just like all the others who had threatened her over the years.

“You think you’re the first?” She sneered. “You’re not, and I will strike you down just as I did them!” She shouted and the look of shock in his eyes was all the permission she needed.

“My liege!”

Rey and the king both turned.

Two of his men, his own personal knights had gotten in somehow, slipping past her spell of protection, and stood with swords drawn, ready to defend their king by any means.

It was a mistake these men would soon regret.

With a shout, Rey unleashed the brutality of her magic from her powerful hands.

Lighting lashed out and gripped the men, her anger made physical by the darkness she possessed.

It felt glorious to watch the way they screamed silently, watch them twist and contort with the unimaginable pain, the burning that would stop them hurting her…

Without warning, a sharp blow to the back of her head knocked Rey to the ground and everything went black.

***

“Your holiness, the chamber is ready”

The old priest, a servant and his apprentice Antilles stood in the sparse room.

Snoke nodded, thanking the servant silently as he let his golden robe fall to the ground, his thin ceremonial garments beneath the robe were a humble show of respect before the power of the gods.

The long dim room was hidden deep within the bowels of the Sith Temple. The complete silence around them was unsettling, but it was for this reason that they were here.

Snoke glanced up at the large black box before him. Within it’s void, he would find the answers he sought, just as all who came here hoped to do.

The servant opened the door and the priest stepped up into the dark and listened as the heavy door was shut behind him.

Slowly he lowered to his knees, letting the cool stone press against his flesh until he felt the familiar sense of fear. His meditations within the chamber were innumerable and yet, he still succumbed to an initial panic after years of battling his phobia. Yes, the servant and his newest seminary were just outside, but the anxiety felt at the complete deprivation of sight, sound and any sense to ground himself had been his secret shame for as long as he could remember.

Knowing this childish fear would pass, he focused his breathing and in time calmed his racing heart until all that could be heard was its very slow beat.

Much better, he breathed and settled just a bit more into his own mind.

Hands on his knees, palms up, he focused on the power within, calling out to the dark force to guide him and show him what it was he needed to see.

The dream he’d had last night had been much more than an unconscious release, it had been a vision, but it was not clear, and he needed to see.

Who was it, he wondered. Who stood behind the crackling white light full of raw power that had woken him with a start.

As his mind moved deeper into the trance, flying through time and space, he saw many things, heard many voices. It was through years of practice and devotion to the arts that he was able to weed through the many to find the one. This was how he’d found the boy, young Ben Solo. The one he would crown king. He would use that same gift of finding hidden power to know who had come to him as he slept last night.

Through a tunnel of stars his mind raced, the faces and voices left behind. He was very close now, the old man could feel it. Soon, the answer would be revealed.

Letting the force wash over him, Snoke waited until at last, clarity came with a searing burst of light, the impact of it knocking him back.

His eyes opened wide, like two bright orbs in the dark chamber, as he saw beyond his mortal view.

Slowly, the truth became clear. The one he’d dreamt of was not a person, but —an awakening.

A dormant conciseness springing to life. A discovery of power, and that discovery being matched. It was beautiful, and terrifying. Tears streamed from his pupil-less eyes, rolling over his face as a new fear set in.

With a dry gasp he pressed his head with the palms of his hands, the pain of seeing like being stabbed in the skull.

And then it was over. The world was black and empty as he lost the sight, and once again felt his breath quicken with being confined in isolation.

Weary from his findings, the high priest slowly pushed up off the ground, stunned by this revelation. It was nearly impossible for him to accept, but the possibility of it had always been there.

Feeling his own small spark of magic burn hot, Snoke gave a heavy bang on the door to be released.

The door opened and the horrified look on Antilles face reflected that of the high priests own feelings about it.

“High priest! Are you well? Let me help!” The young man offered his arm which Snoke took hold of as he stepped down from the black box.

“Water for his holiness!” Antilles called out to the servant who was waiting by the door.

“What was it? What have you seen?” He asked quietly and handed Snoke his robe.

The ancient warlock slipped into the comfort of the fine silk with a groan. His entire body ached from the deprivation chamber.

There was an answer to the seminarians question, but the high priest was not ready to speak of it just yet. His mind had already begun devising a plan, explaining the inner workings to a soft, eager to please nuisance like Antilles would take time he didn’t have.

“Leave me.” He croaked and pushed away.

Hurt but ever obedient, Antilles bowed and left the older man to walk at his own pace.

As Snoke made his way back towards his chambers, his mind set in a thick fog, he wondered just where he’d gone wrong.

The manipulation of the boy had been so complete even he had forgotten the truth of it all. But not entirely. And so it seems, neither had nature.

His future empire was in danger. The dark magic warned him of it in a way he could not ignore. There was only one man in all twelve kingdoms who could bring on such a feeling of dread and he had just written about a witch found in the forests of Jakku.

Snoke’s fist clenched as he tossed the doors to his suite open. He could not be certain, but the timing made him question this woman all the more.

He would send word, mobilizing the necessary precautions already positioned close to the king.

#Reylo #reylo au #medieval reylo #reylo ao3 #reylo fanfic #reylo angst #enemies to enemies #but not for long #slow burn #please

[of-stardust-and-wanderlust]

So I don’t have anything truly Star Wars for May the 4th BUT my friend convinced me to join my first DnD campaign (a homebrew passion project she’s DMing) and I mayyyy have developed a new fixation!

I created a brand new character for the campaign--a tiefling of course--and it inspired me to take some of my favorite devaronian characters and restyle them into tieflings that fit into this world!

First up is Ki’anya Kiyana! She’s a cousin of my player character (though she was still a baby the last time they saw each other) who discovered a betrayal in the family that drove her to make a warlock pact. This world doesn’t really have true deities, but it does have a mostly-eradicated belief system surrounding death. Her pact was therefore formed with Death itself; the dark markings on her horns, neck, hands, and feet symbolize her connection to it.

This was mostly just a fun and nostalgic design challenge for myself, since I already have my player character, but it was really fun to revisit her! Anyway, stay tuned for the other three!

#ki'anya #tiefling oc

[sxint]

BASIC INFORMATION.

Full name: Saint Matthieu Warden (insp). Nickname: Sainty, Satan Birthdate: 30th of May 1991 Age: 29 Zodiac: Gemini Sun | Gemini Moon | Gemini Rising  Gender: Cis male Pronouns: He/him Romantic orientation: Biromantic Sexual orientation: Bisexual Nationality: British/French Ethnicity: English/French Ranking: Virtue Affiliation: War

BACKGROUND.

Birthplace: Monte Carlo, Monaco Hometown: Worlingham, Suffolk/ London, UK Social Class: Upper Educational achievements: 1st class honours degree in Politics and Economics from Oxford University Father: Warlock Warden Mother: Gabrielle Warden Sibling(s): Remus Warden, Juno Warden

Pets:  Indiana (8 month old doberman) Previous relationships: A handful of fast burning relationships, a year and a half with Kitty Mallick Arrests: 8 official arrests (theft, vandalism, breaking and entering, possession of drugs, affray)   Prison time: Bailed out within hours of each arrest. Apart for the 6th time where Warlock made him stay in a cell over night to think about his actions, it didn’t help.

OCCUPATION & INCOME.

Current occupation: Head of global distribution at Bellum Nova/ Virtue of War Dream occupation: Horseman of War Past job(s): None Spending habits: Sporadic, cautious for the most part but can be easily tempted into spending. Especially when it comes to food In debt?: No

SKILLS & ABILITIES.

Physical strength: above average Speed: average Intelligence: above average Accuracy: average Agility: average Stamina: average Teamwork: He’s gotten better with it over time, although he prefers to work alone should it be an option. He finds it hard to trust others even with simple tasks and has a superiority complex where he thinks he will do said task better himself Talents: Persuasiveness, problem solving, warmongering, impersonations (particularly good at his Remus impersonation that sounds practically identical)  Shortcomings: Emotionally unavailable, competitive, vengeful, relatively fearless and has no impulse control   Languages spoken: French, English and Spanish Drive?: Yes Jump-start a car?: Yes Change a flat tyre?: Yes Ride a bicycle?: Yes   Swim?: Yes Play an instrument?: No Play chess?: No Braid hair?: Yes   Tie a tie?: Yes   Pick a lock?: Yes   Cook?: No

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE AND CHARACTERISTICS.

Faceclaim: Max Irons my beloved Eye colour: Green Hair colour: Dark blonde/light brunette Hair type: Slightly curly texture but kept short enough that it appears straight   Glasses/contacts?: Wears glasses to read and also has deuteranomaly colourblindness (has difficulty differentiating red and green) inherited from Warlock. Dominant hand: Right Height: 6″3 Weight: 86kg or 13.6 stone Build: Tall, muscular but carries slight weight around his middle because he loves carbs and knows how to have a good time Exercise habits: Regular jogging in the morning with Indi, gym throughout the week for weight training Skin tone: Type II Tattoos: Stick and poke tattoo of devil horns on the back of his calf given to him by Mitzi Zhang. The word ‘victorieux’ on his ribs in gothic script (insp). Doberman portrait (insp). Piercings: None Marks/scars: Lightly freckled, small birthmark at the back of his bicep on his left arm, dagger scar near his abdomen Clothing style: Monochromatic and sleek but likes wearing knitted jumpers and slogan tee shirts when he’s being more casual. Also lives in grey sweatpants when he’s at home. (Insp, insp, insp, insp). Jewellery: A 1950s manual wind Rolex with leather straps and a 18k yellow gold watch face. Given to him as a child and it belonged to his grandfather (insp). Allergies: Pollen Diet: Carb heavy, lives off bread and cheese, also has a real sweet tooth due to not being allowed to eat a lot of sugar as a kid.

PSYCHOLOGY.

MBTI type: INTJ, the architect (Introverted, Intuitive, Thinking, and Judging) Enneagram type: The Challenger (Resilient, protective, vengeful, insensitive) Moral Alignment: Chaotic evil Temperament: Choleric Element: Air Emotional stability: Changeable and unmanaged. Saint would rather shut down than address his feelings, he gets embarrassed and shy about having them and see’s them as something that gets in the way. Introvert or Extrovert?: Introvert Phobias: Atychiphobia - Fear of failure Drug use: Recreational, favours cocaine and MDMA. Not so much since Remus’s issues with addiction   Alcohol use: Drinks a glass of red wine before bed every night Prone to violence?: Yes Prone to crying?: No Believe in love at first sight?: He used to, but not anymore

MANNERISMS.

Accent: Southern British, occasionally has an air of French when relaxed or tired. Also a slight lisp and deep and softly spoken. (insp). Hobbies: Shooting guns, walking/training his dog, depressively eating bread on the kitchen floor whilst listening to radiohead Habits: Smoking cigarettes, drinking wine Nervous ticks: Jaw clenching, fidgeting with his hands, smoking Drives/motivations: To exceed others expectations of himself Fears: Abandonment Sense of humour?: Dark and dad jokes Do they curse often?: Oui

FAVOURITES.

Animal: Dogs Beverage: Cabernet sauvignon Book: Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk Colour: Blue, being red-green colour blind it’s one of the more vibrant colours that he can see Food: Gratin dauphinois served with crusty bread. Marzipan filled croissants or cherry bakewell for dessert (he loves almonds) Flower: Roses Gem: Sapphire Mode of transportation: Aston Martin Vantage   Scent: Black Opium (kitty’s perfume)  Sport: Rugby   Weather: Thunderstorms Vacation destination: South France  

ATTITUDES.

Greatest dream: Becoming Horseman of War Greatest fear: Being eradicated and forgotten at his siblings’ hands   Most at ease when: Alone at home where he can be himself without the pressure of performing for other’s   Least as ease when: In groups with new people that he doesn’t know Biggest achievement: Being Gabrielle’s favourite child   Biggest regret: Falling in love and getting caught

#tasks.